"Misplaced Thanks" - Adama/Roslin Drabble
Title: Misplaced Thanks
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: R
Word Count: 300 words
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
Warnings: Alcohol.
A/N: Late entry for the "gratitude" challenge at ar_drabbles. Thanks to nixmom for her kick-ass beta.
There are days when Laura is thankful that Bill drinks.
The alcohol is like a great wall between them, obscuring their view of one another, granting them much needed space.
He finds a clump of her hair between the sheets of his rack, so he drinks.
He notices that the trembling in her hands is starting to get worse, so he drinks.
He can’t arouse her like he used to, so he drinks himself to sleep so that he isn’t tempted to initiate sex with her.
Laura hopes that he falls so deeply in love with the bottle that he forgets his love for her entirely. It pains her to realize that his addiction is less destructive than his love for her.
She hates the smell of alcohol so he always sleeps on the couch.
Her eyes fill with tears every time he comes home drunk so he forbids himself from looking at her in the eye.
She hears him crying in his sleep every night. She hears him vomiting in the head.
Today, she sees the dark circles under his eyes. Today, his pain is palpable.
He’s looking at her with such fierce longing that, for a moment, she thinks that he is going to take her in his arms and kiss her like he used to. Instead, he turns his body slightly and retrieves a flask from his jacket. He crushes his lips to the container and she can barely recall what that feels like.
He still sits next to her as Cottle hooks her up to the IV.
He still reads her passages from his own heart, disguised as the book in his hands.
He still won’t meet her eyes.
There are days that Laura is thankful that Bill drinks.
Today isn’t one of them.
Pairing: Adama/Roslin
Rating: R
Word Count: 300 words
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
Warnings: Alcohol.
A/N: Late entry for the "gratitude" challenge at ar_drabbles. Thanks to nixmom for her kick-ass beta.
There are days when Laura is thankful that Bill drinks.
The alcohol is like a great wall between them, obscuring their view of one another, granting them much needed space.
He finds a clump of her hair between the sheets of his rack, so he drinks.
He notices that the trembling in her hands is starting to get worse, so he drinks.
He can’t arouse her like he used to, so he drinks himself to sleep so that he isn’t tempted to initiate sex with her.
Laura hopes that he falls so deeply in love with the bottle that he forgets his love for her entirely. It pains her to realize that his addiction is less destructive than his love for her.
She hates the smell of alcohol so he always sleeps on the couch.
Her eyes fill with tears every time he comes home drunk so he forbids himself from looking at her in the eye.
She hears him crying in his sleep every night. She hears him vomiting in the head.
Today, she sees the dark circles under his eyes. Today, his pain is palpable.
He’s looking at her with such fierce longing that, for a moment, she thinks that he is going to take her in his arms and kiss her like he used to. Instead, he turns his body slightly and retrieves a flask from his jacket. He crushes his lips to the container and she can barely recall what that feels like.
He still sits next to her as Cottle hooks her up to the IV.
He still reads her passages from his own heart, disguised as the book in his hands.
He still won’t meet her eyes.
There are days that Laura is thankful that Bill drinks.
Today isn’t one of them.