Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. A.N. Redheads Appreciation Day, so. This was clearly necessary. ;D Hope you enjoy!
Softness
Ruth smiles at the couple sitting at an ice-cream parlour table. The...teacher, maybe, has a scrumptious-looking sundae in front of him. His companion is completely lost in him. How the man can wear sunglasses and yet she could bear witness in court that he was making heart-eyes at his companion is a bit of a mystery, but she would and be nothing but truthful.
Her husband is kind, attentive, even loving. But she finds herself wanting that. No, more than that – she doesn't even just want to be loved like that, she wants to have a chance to love like that. Which is stupid. She's married, for God's sake, and yes, she loves him, but they're adults. With jobs. Responsibilities. Bills. Worries. Of course they don't have many occasions when one can just forget everything and stare at their beloved as if the rest of the world – no, universe – paled when someone's just..there, and happy, and that's all you've ever wanted in life. Only these people are definitely adults, and the redhead isn't letting anything get in the way of just...adoring his partner. Lucky man.
She's moving towards them before she even catches herself. Not that anybody would notice. They're all in public. If she walks that way, or even gets a sudden urge for ice-cream...for all her responsibilities, she can steal five minutes now. Just five.
"Love you," the teacher says – out of nowhere, maybe.
Because his partner's reaction is, "Talking to your dessert now, angel?"
An indulgent grin accompanies a headshake. "Don't be silly now. It just hit me all of a sudden, again. How much I do, and that I can. Say it. Now. And I don't even have to worry who could hear. Sometimes I wonder if I fell asleep."
"I promise, angel, it's not a dream! Your bosses, and my bosses, know better than get in the way now. For a few centuries, at least. Besides, if this was anyone's dream, it would be mine. Who's the sleepyhead between us, huh?" A hand goes to cover "angel"'s one that's not holding the spoon.
"Can't argue with that. " For a minute or two, there are no more words, just the pretty picture that attracted her at the start (only neither is breaking the small touch) and Ruth's ready to be on her way. For all that these two would barely notice if the aliens landed right here and now, she's starting to feel awkward.
That's when angel drops the spoon to turn fully towards his partner and run his fingers through short, ginger hair. His lover leans into it with a low rumble, like a pleased cat.
"I can do this, too. You have no idea how much I love your hair. No matter how many things you hide, and don't get me wrong, it's a thrill to be the keeper of your secrets, or how many things you change, you're still my gorgeous redhead."
"I don't know, angel, my 1970s phase was..."
"Impressive." Angel nods sollemnly.
His partner chuckles. "You really love me."
Ruth really has to leave now, before she chuckles too and gets herself caught. She'll keep it to herself. Forget it by the end of the week, or that's what she tells herself. If the couple ends up stored somewhere in her ample subconscious, a bright dash of love-red and softness and longing, well, that's how the subconscious works. Besides, whoever they are, they told their bosses to fuck off, which who doesn't relate to? She might take inspiration someday. Perhaps she has. Something is nagging at her brain. But it doesn't matter, and would it be a bad thing anyway?