Dustland Fairytale - Touch me till I follow in love.
Title: Touch me till I follow in love.
Rating: PG
Characters:
Emily: college aged, theatre major
Brian: college aged, tv/film major
Maggie: college graduate, Brian's girlfriend
Summary: Contact - gained, lost, missed.
Style: Pieces
He watches almost bored, but mostly agitated as she hugs his girlfriend before him. Then, hands barely leaving his girl's waist, she turns to him as he suspected, her eyes urging him to hug her next.
A single arm drapes around her, his fingers barely on her side under the cheerful expression of his girlfriend. She holds him tightly, briefly.
He'd give her a better hug if his girl wasn't around.
No. He probably wouldn't hug her at all.
"You're too skinny," she muses as she trails her gold-painted fingernails against the taunt fabric of his costume stretched over his stomach. Her teasing tone doesn't quite reach the tension around her eyes.
Her hair's falling in her face, ivory through the gold, as she breathes it huffily away.
She clamps her hands exasperatingly on his shoulders, determined that he should listen and agree with her next point in their argument.
He's a little uncomfortable with the fierce look in her eye and the fact that her warm palms are so close to his neck.
He holds his camera out to her and she places her hand over his, angling the camera to avoid the glare from the florescent lights above them.
She's talking, talking, talking, and he can't hear a word. He just sits on the top of the piano and wonders what to do about her elbows on his knees as she stands casually between his legs.
Her long fingers tap on his upper thigh as she continues and he just can't focus.
"Good night," she beams, bringing her hand down to meet his. Her long fingers tighten around his momentarily and before he can even react, she's pulling away and tucking her hair behind her ear.
The teacher mentions something about needing paper and she searches her bag beside him for a few moments before looking up deviously.
"Hey, friend," she starts with an appealing smile, her pale arm slinging around his neck.
He gives in to her wordless plea and tears some sheets out of his notebook.
"Sorry," he says for the umpteenth time as the camera fails to cooperate for him. He senses rather than sees her rolling her eyes.
"I swear, if you say you're sorry one more time, I'm going to hit you," she threatens half-heartedly.
He pauses for effect before smirking. "Sorry," he says out of the corner of his mouth.
She laughs breezily as she follows through with her threat, bringing her hand gently against his back. Her fingers brush past his shoulder and he suppresses a shiver.
He reaches over to grab some napkins when all of a sudden he feels someone ruffle his hair. When he turns around, he sees her jean-clad form walking away. She doesn't turn around to see him smile.
Somehow, he keeps ending up next to her during the tour.
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other. The slight movement bringing her closer to him and his shirt sleeve brushes against her bare arm.
He watches from his peripheral vision as she straightens up and severs all contact.
He doesn't even realize she's behind him until she's leaning down to his seat.
Her sudden presence when she thanks him for his help makes him jump. She brings her head down to his level to kiss his cheek, but his unexpected movement makes her lips land on his ear.
He refuses to turn around because she always teases him when he blushes.
Just from the tentative smile on her face, he anticipates her next words.
"Can I hug you?"
He sighs and makes a big show of putting his camera bag on the sidewalk, but returns her sudden clutch regardless.
Her fingers are cool against his scalp as she brushes away his hat hair. She's too close and too silent until she finally pulls away and examines at his hair critically.
Her impossibly blue eyes flicker to his eyes as she quietly murmurs, "Very handsome."
Then she avoids his eyes entirely and looks at him only through her camera lens.
The springtime sun beats down on them as she eludes his hand. He stretches out further to reach her hair, her shirt, her shoulder. She lets out a shriek as he gets closer and damned if he lets her win this round of tag.
Her hand touches her too-red lips before she presses her fingertips to his face in an extended kiss.
They sit across the cafeteria from each other, and he's pretty sure she's pretending that she hasn't noticed him. And it's hardly a matter worth considering until their eyes meet over the tables between them and suddenly it's strikingly prominent that they are not touching at all.
"Your girlfriend wants to talk to you," she informs him, holding her cell phone out to him.
He accepts, and for an instant, their fingers nudge each other. But then she lets go.
"Hello?" he speaks into the phone, still looking at her with sideways eyes.
They talk into the night air about nothing in particular until they have to part ways. He holds his arms out slightly from his body, waiting for the inevitable hug that she always seems to thrust upon him.
But she smiles softly and waves her fingers good-bye before she turns away, azure eyes staring at the ground.
She won't look at him, talk to him, joke with him. He may as well be the wall. He's not used to this at all and he can't help but stare at her, wondering what's wrong.
Focusing more on the papers on the desk than him, she hands over the camera for him to take back. Her fingers hold only the very end, plenty of room for him to grab the other edge.
Disregarding pretenses, he runs his fingers over hers, taking the camera directly from her grasp.
She looks up only when they lose contact.