With nowhere else to go, his hands settled lightly on her waist. It took Raph a moment to even realize they'd made their way there.
"Yeah," he said, without really saying anything. His eyes were now fixed on her lips, and he found himself wondering how difficult it would be to get that dark reddish purple color off his face if it got smeared on like before.
Kiss her, said the pro-macking voice.
How many scenarios had they gone through? And every time they'd settled into...into something. The same track. And it wasn't Abed's imagination that had caused it if his distress over the Inspector and his constables and their long tradition of not having romantic tension had been any indication.
But had that just been his imagination influencing it by itself or had hers had a hand in it?
All he knew was that he was filled with an overwhelming desire to give her all of himself. All of the feeling he kept stuffed away, that he pretended he didn't have, that came out during late night talks sprawled on various floors and beds around the Pole. Always at 2 am, always when everyone else was asleep so the little things they whispered in each other's ears wasn't overheard - and still they whispered them anyway. They crept up in each other's space, breathing the same air, eating up each other's words and feeding each other a steady diet of understanding.
He wanted her in a way that wasn't about his wants. Oh, he wanted her to want him back, but more than anything, he wanted to make her feel good. She deserved so much to feel good, especially after all the terrible things other people had made her feel.
But the riddle was this: What if that kind of attention was something she didn't want from him? He didn't want to make her uncomfortable with yet another person pressing her into closeness she didn't want. She deserved to have all of the care and affection that she wanted and if that was just from a friend, he wanted her to have it. Just that. Just exactly what she wanted. No more, no less.
But he wanted her to want more instead of less so badly because then there was that much more he could give. A whole new avenue, a different track. He wanted to give her everything he could and even if it wouldn't replace the things that had been taken away from her, maybe she could still be wrapped in the sliding silk of something different and still wonderful in their place.
Wrapped up safe. Cherished. Wanted for who and what she was. Not something to consume, to leech dry. They'd both done that, Alex and the vampire. Sucked out all the affection and understanding and given nothing back. Her parents had sucked away her trust.
And still she wasn't empty. She had a whole universe inside her, one that'd intersected with his long enough for him to see how infinite it was.
Kiss her.
This time he listened, his reaction instant, his body moving before he could stop it, leaning up and in for the obvious. To her, at least, it would be obvious. To him it was the same kind of reaction he had to a blow during practice. Unconscious, fluid, instant. Solid and real.
Then his brain caught up with his body (and the other sneakier part of his brain) and put the brakes on.
ABORT! ABORT! You'll ruin everything.
He quickly veered away, withdrawing his hands from her waist, expertly ducking out of her arms.
"Yeah. So. I've only got a few scrapes. So I'm good. And you're good. I'm gonna go - Mikey - video games - something -" That was totally incoherent.
BAIL. JUST BAIL.
"...Bye!"
And with that, he moved towards the door in a way that looked like he was trying very hard not to run.
no subject
"Yeah," he said, without really saying anything. His eyes were now fixed on her lips, and he found himself wondering how difficult it would be to get that dark reddish purple color off his face if it got smeared on like before.
Kiss her, said the pro-macking voice.
How many scenarios had they gone through? And every time they'd settled into...into something. The same track. And it wasn't Abed's imagination that had caused it if his distress over the Inspector and his constables and their long tradition of not having romantic tension had been any indication.
But had that just been his imagination influencing it by itself or had hers had a hand in it?
All he knew was that he was filled with an overwhelming desire to give her all of himself. All of the feeling he kept stuffed away, that he pretended he didn't have, that came out during late night talks sprawled on various floors and beds around the Pole. Always at 2 am, always when everyone else was asleep so the little things they whispered in each other's ears wasn't overheard - and still they whispered them anyway. They crept up in each other's space, breathing the same air, eating up each other's words and feeding each other a steady diet of understanding.
He wanted her in a way that wasn't about his wants. Oh, he wanted her to want him back, but more than anything, he wanted to make her feel good. She deserved so much to feel good, especially after all the terrible things other people had made her feel.
But the riddle was this: What if that kind of attention was something she didn't want from him? He didn't want to make her uncomfortable with yet another person pressing her into closeness she didn't want. She deserved to have all of the care and affection that she wanted and if that was just from a friend, he wanted her to have it. Just that. Just exactly what she wanted. No more, no less.
But he wanted her to want more instead of less so badly because then there was that much more he could give. A whole new avenue, a different track. He wanted to give her everything he could and even if it wouldn't replace the things that had been taken away from her, maybe she could still be wrapped in the sliding silk of something different and still wonderful in their place.
Wrapped up safe. Cherished. Wanted for who and what she was. Not something to consume, to leech dry. They'd both done that, Alex and the vampire. Sucked out all the affection and understanding and given nothing back. Her parents had sucked away her trust.
And still she wasn't empty. She had a whole universe inside her, one that'd intersected with his long enough for him to see how infinite it was.
Kiss her.
This time he listened, his reaction instant, his body moving before he could stop it, leaning up and in for the obvious. To her, at least, it would be obvious. To him it was the same kind of reaction he had to a blow during practice. Unconscious, fluid, instant. Solid and real.
Then his brain caught up with his body (and the other sneakier part of his brain) and put the brakes on.
ABORT! ABORT! You'll ruin everything.
He quickly veered away, withdrawing his hands from her waist, expertly ducking out of her arms.
"Yeah. So. I've only got a few scrapes. So I'm good. And you're good. I'm gonna go - Mikey - video games - something -" That was totally incoherent.
BAIL. JUST BAIL.
"...Bye!"
And with that, he moved towards the door in a way that looked like he was trying very hard not to run.