xmutanthigh | Bobby's aftermath threads

Entry tags:

Bobby's aftermath threads

Characters: Bobby, Laura, John, Jono, and anyone else who wants to jump in
Setting: Various places
Content: There's a lot of things to deal with in the wake of the past couple of days...
Status: Open(ish) and incomplete

Okay, so, in order to preserve my sanity while I get back into the rhythm of things with class, I'm trying something a little different. This will work kind of like the day-in-the-life posts, except I'm just going to throw up a few comments for a few specific characters, and then a general "Bobby's in the kitchen eating ice cream; come say hi" one which anyone can tag into after that. =)

Comments will be in vague chronological order, but we all know that TIME IS IN FLUX at XMH, so it doesn't matter too much when this stuff happens!

Hope it's not confusing!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[There is something... different about the way she says his name. He's not sure what it is. There is nothing in her expression to give away what she feels.

He looks at her inquisitively, head tilted slightly to one side, the tone of his voice gentle and warm.]

Yeah?

I did not want you to die.

[The words are quiet; she does not look at him as she says them, and they are injected with so little and yet so much of that ghostly pain she feels when thinking about his absence, about the nature of his mission.

They are the truth, the only way she knows how to say what comes to easily to him to voice. He was worried. She was... this.]

[He detects it - that tiny fragment of emotion. It's in the way she does not meet his eyes, her whole body still and somehow tense. And it's that emotion that prompts him to move.

He sits beside her on the bed - close, but not too close.]

Hey.

[And with a gentle touch (he is always gentle with her), he puts his fingers under her chin and tilts her head so he can look at her face. The corner of his mouth pulls into a very small half-smile.]

I'm not dead.

[An obvious fact. But it's a reassurance.]

[It's that touch, that tender, electrifying touch and the changing tenor of his voice. Just that one touch rouses a response from her: excitement and anxiousness all at the same time, as if it were the first. And perhaps, because she wants him to touch her so much, that's why it so often feels so staggering.

Her sad, imploring eyes flutter up to his; it is an obvious fact. But it is a comforting one.]

I know.

[She murmurs this, and lifts a hand slowly to rest over his beating heart, feels and listens to it under the warmth of his skin.]

[His hand slips from her chin to cup her jaw, thumb gliding slowly over her cheek. These are the moments with her that he likes best - when he can look into her eyes and see a little of what she feels, when she reaches out to him and leans into his touch, when he can tell that she cares for him, that she wants to be with him.

Her admission echoes in his head (I did not want you to die) and he realises that it is her way of telling him that she cares about what happens to him. This reassurance... he needs it sometimes, because he is so often uncertain about what she thinks, what she feels for him.

He shifts a little closer, the proximity of their bodies a reassurance for both of them.]

[Laura tips her head further down, breaks their much too startling gaze as her breath catches slightly. There is something in this touch that weakens and scares her, that makes her chest ache and her body fold in closer towards his.

Her eyes shut; her fingers curl slightly against his shirt. There's his breath, and hers; his heartbeat, and hers. The rustle of her comforter against his shifting body, the brush of his thigh against her knee.

She hesitates, feels herself trembling completely out of her control, and gives in, falling forward against his chest. She feels greedy for his smell, his warmth, the softness of his shirt beneath her nose. She doesn't understand this, but she doesn't care, because he is here and real and all that matters. She has not lost him, and her eyes shut tightly as her body eagerly shifts closer against him.]

[Her body tumbling into his is surprising - surprising, yet not unfamiliar. They have been here before, when emotion has overwhelmed her.

His response is instant, his arms emfolding around her, holding her close, one hand moving in slow, soothing circles over her back. Her slender fingers are curled in his shirt; he can feel the steady rise and fall of her breathing as she presses against him. After the slight distance that he had perceived between them over the past week, this closeness and the feeling of her in his arms, warm and solid, is a relief and a comfort.

He closes his eyes and his lips brush a tender kiss over the top of her head.]

[Her hand moves from his chest and her arms reach to twine over his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric, breath shallow and body shaking. There is nothing conscious about her movements, those that are usually so controlled. Instead when she tips her head to press herself into the crook of his neck, it is with a small, animalistic, nearly fearful mewl, and only then does the comforting friction of his circling hand seem to register, and Laura starts to settle.]

[The touch of her lips against the skin of his neck is both electric and soothing all at once. He can feel her trembling, and gathers her in even closer.

Bobby is not sure what has triggered this response from her (surely she was not this worried about him?), and he wonders with a hint of concern why it is that she's clinging so tightly to him.

But at the same time, her closeness is welcome. He can't help but like it.

He turns his head and just manages to press a light kiss to her ear.]

Laura.

[He says her name softly, tenderly, his hand never ceasing in its comforting path on her back.]

[That warm brush of his lips sends a jolt through her; her mouth parts against his pulse and she draws in a gasp. She is glad, thankful, she is something that he cannot see her wide eyes at this moment. Because they have flung open, and she cannot imagine what secrets they spill. Laura can barely curl a reining grip on her emotions, can't even hope to catch but one and identify it.

She was not this worried and she knows this. She was not worried. She is... frightened. Heart racing, body huddled, breath short. Laura feels reactive tears fulling her eyes and she does not understand.

This is... panic. She has no calm, no center. She is... nothing. Weak. Broken. She is falling apart.

She does not trust her voice; does not answer. Merely closes her eyes tight and clings to Bobby harder, as if he were an anchor keeping her together.]

[At her reaction, he tightens his arms around her, pulling her in until she's sitting across his lap. He knows she needs him somehow, needs the reality of his presence, his touch. The hint of concern he felt is swelling now. She is collapsing, under the weight of... what? He can't tell. All he can do is hold her close and try and reassure her, even though he's not sure what she needs to be reassured of.]

I'm here, Laura. I'm here.

[The words are barely whispered, and he moves one of his hands to glide through her hair, cupping her head and holding her to him.]

It'll be okay.

[He doesn't know what it is, but he says it anyway because he believes that, whatever's wrong, it can't be wrong forever. Somehow, it will be okay. And he will stay for as long as it takes.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bobby's aftermath threads

D: THEY ARE PRECIOUS AND I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPYYYYY

ME TOOOO OMG WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE HAPPYYYY.

no subject

no subject

no subject

JHA;LKRGJRG how do I respond to such a perfect tag

I AM NOW SUFFERING FROM THE SAME DILEMMA

SAME DILEMMA, ROUND TWO ♥

THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS AND BEAUTIFUL <3

SOBS FROM THE PRECIOUS AND BEAUTYYYY

D: IT'S SO SAD AND SO SWEET AT THE SAME TIME