Seconds Just Relax
Author: Rovi
Disclaimer: GA and DD are human beings of flesh and blood and I have no right to get into their lives. This is a fictional story, nothing to do with the actual reality: p
Dedication: This goes to Brenda by snogger fic idea to Vania cheerleader for their services, not to let boredom forced to write and all snoggers Out There.
Type: Snogger (yep, I'm snogger not deny it), POV, Vignette. Feedback
: by favoooorr! rovi.adams @ gmail.com
Note: I know I'm in the midst of another fanfic, but a bit distracted does not hurt: p, also took the opportunity to enter the world snogger because I'd never dared to make a fic this category. If you guess the scene, earning a return trip to the kitchen of his home with all expenses paid: p Van ... lol you do not participate.
Ahh! Something very important: Made in Dominican Republic:)
is a single scene ... a script to give life to characters that belong to fiction. Lives that are nothing more than pieces of paper and take our bodies to move a step closer to reality. But I do not understand why I can not get close to him, feel his touch and her lips almost next to mine, and also define the line between real life and performance.
I know what comes next. Last night I repeated each line in my mind endlessly, and imagined a few times the way we rehearse. But when he arrived this morning, I felt the tension in the air and trying to avoid being few inches of it, I invented a new excuse to prolong the inevitable.
I told him to leave room for spontaneity and confidence in our chemistry ... were professional enough to put us in front of the cameras and make a scene without having seen in a couple of days. I said that and much more to convince him, but the moment of truth had arrived.
As I felt his arms surround me, I knew that the control had gone too far. There were no more words to say, it was time to give way to body language, let the emotions flow and transfer some of our spirit to a dead letter in a thousand typed pages.
I had to remember the old lessons of theater. For me it was easy to give up my true self and become once again Dana Scully. I was already getting used to it and, yes, we often get into the skin of the protagonist, but I think it's time to transform it here is a kind of possession.
hope I do not quite all its flavor when it is time to separate some of it and start to lose myself in his eyes. Her hands settle softly on my face, which leaves me no choice but to face his eyes, even if it means risking losing everything for a dream that may not have more room in my subconscious.
A tear is rolling down my cheek, I can feel it before the end of repeating the idea in my mind. He quietly asked me if this is right and slightly nod, giving him permission to go ahead and cross the walls that have defined a platonic relationship for five years. If he knew all I'm thinking at this point, I would not hesitate I'm completely crazy.
His lips are every second closer to mine. I can not think, my vision blurred and all I feel is the pain of knowing that one of my fantasies do not come to fruition. He will not kiss me because it is written ... may never do it. And the closer you are, the more it hurts. It's torture I do not deserve, but no one to blame.
I am mentally prepared ... at least I tell myself to comfort me. I am resigned to settle for a light touch and break the spell because the show must go on, but when it's time to wake up I feel something all my senses alert, something too good to be true.
's kissing me ... is too much information to be processed by my brain. My hands go to his neck and my nails dig into his hair, is sufficient evidence to rule out the possibility that my imagination is playing dirty.
The murmur of others reminds me that we are not alone, but he did not seem to matter much, because their language tries to cross the barrier formed my lips and deepen the kiss. And while whispering was able to distinguish a "cut!" that there is also the desired effect, at least not for us.
finally parted for air to our lungs and oxygen for our brains to process what we just did. There is no excuse for altering the script of a story that is not ours.
When questions and doubts become too heavy a burden for me, I try to find an explanation in his eyes, however, all I find are more questions. He is a mystery to me, and always will be. A completely closed book, which was written insurance for a woman who is not me.
Slowly we get separated, and in this sea of uncertainty the only thing that is clear is that a scene has been through repeated. A scene that will become a bitter memory.
FIN .-
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