Drabble - All the World's a Stage
Title: All the world's a stage
Author: choco_dreamer
Pairing: Ed/Leighton
Rating: PG
Summary: My take on the line ‘When pushed to dish, Westwick minimizes the thin line between work and play’ from Ed’s GQ article.
A/N: ubiquitous_girl told me that there’s a special place in Hell for RPF writers. If I’m going to end up in Hell, I might as well do it for Leighton and Ed.
Disclaimer: I wish.
She is not like other girls he’s met before. She’s fire and ice and all the colours the rainbow is not. When she walks into a room, it doesn’t light up - it buzzes with a current of electricity. But she doesn’t feel it, isn’t aware of the trail of burning hearts she leaves behind as she walks out.
Or maybe she does - he can’t tell.
He feels the pull, the tug of something inside of him every time she’s near, like a moth to a flame. Whenever he senses her eyes on him, the flashy rock star exterior gives way to the shy school boy from within, and he’s no longer sure where to look - so he looks the other way. He can’t seem to find the right words or think straight when she’s around, so he tries to put as much distance between them as he can (he’ll fly to England this summer; he’ll holiday in LA next weekend).
Maybe he’s becoming more like Chuck, he mulls sometimes. Chuck doesn’t want to open up his heart because he’s scared he’ll get hurt and Ed thinks he understands. But then he thinks he’s more like Blair because he would gladly wear his heart on his sleeve if it means there’s a chance of a happy ending. But Leighton says she doesn’t like boys who are always around, doesn’t care about being in relationships, doesn’t want to say the words ‘I love you’, and he’s pretty sure he knows how this story ends - he doesn’t want to be the one left standing alone on the pavement watching the other be driven away.
Maybe if he keeps repeating it out loud enough times (no, he doesn’t think he’s anything like his character; well, maybe Blair isn’t the only one Chuck has feelings for) he’ll convince himself too.
But when the cameras start rolling and she’s straddling him on the seat, she’ll playfully slip her tongue into his mouth, slide her hand over his neck - and all the boundaries between what’s real and what’s not, what’s right and what’s wrong, blur into the lines of a script he’ll replay in his head over the next several nights. He’s already falling so where’s the use in taking a step back from the edge this time? Instead he’ll slant his mouth possessively over hers, wrap his fingers around her tiny little waist, and will this moment to last forever (but he’ll settle for another ten takes).
Author: choco_dreamer
Pairing: Ed/Leighton
Rating: PG
Summary: My take on the line ‘When pushed to dish, Westwick minimizes the thin line between work and play’ from Ed’s GQ article.
A/N: ubiquitous_girl told me that there’s a special place in Hell for RPF writers. If I’m going to end up in Hell, I might as well do it for Leighton and Ed.
Disclaimer: I wish.
She is not like other girls he’s met before. She’s fire and ice and all the colours the rainbow is not. When she walks into a room, it doesn’t light up - it buzzes with a current of electricity. But she doesn’t feel it, isn’t aware of the trail of burning hearts she leaves behind as she walks out.
Or maybe she does - he can’t tell.
He feels the pull, the tug of something inside of him every time she’s near, like a moth to a flame. Whenever he senses her eyes on him, the flashy rock star exterior gives way to the shy school boy from within, and he’s no longer sure where to look - so he looks the other way. He can’t seem to find the right words or think straight when she’s around, so he tries to put as much distance between them as he can (he’ll fly to England this summer; he’ll holiday in LA next weekend).
Maybe he’s becoming more like Chuck, he mulls sometimes. Chuck doesn’t want to open up his heart because he’s scared he’ll get hurt and Ed thinks he understands. But then he thinks he’s more like Blair because he would gladly wear his heart on his sleeve if it means there’s a chance of a happy ending. But Leighton says she doesn’t like boys who are always around, doesn’t care about being in relationships, doesn’t want to say the words ‘I love you’, and he’s pretty sure he knows how this story ends - he doesn’t want to be the one left standing alone on the pavement watching the other be driven away.
Maybe if he keeps repeating it out loud enough times (no, he doesn’t think he’s anything like his character; well, maybe Blair isn’t the only one Chuck has feelings for) he’ll convince himself too.
But when the cameras start rolling and she’s straddling him on the seat, she’ll playfully slip her tongue into his mouth, slide her hand over his neck - and all the boundaries between what’s real and what’s not, what’s right and what’s wrong, blur into the lines of a script he’ll replay in his head over the next several nights. He’s already falling so where’s the use in taking a step back from the edge this time? Instead he’ll slant his mouth possessively over hers, wrap his fingers around her tiny little waist, and will this moment to last forever (but he’ll settle for another ten takes).