The Sequel: Part VIII
Title: 'The Sequel'
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairings: Bree Van deKamp and Lynette Scavo
Chapter: Part VIII
Rating: PG-13ish
Author's Note: Very. very. emo. Angsty. Sad. Boo hoo.
She was hesitating for too long.
Lynette began to grow worried as she watched Bree linger with a foot half on, half off the stairs. The liquid in the glass on the counter had grown cold by now but Lynette didn’t dare move for fear of scaring Bree away like a wild creature on the forest floor. She had even been holding her breath until the moment where she felt dizzy enough to take another.
Bree wouldn’t leave, would she? They’d been through far too much together. Not just this weekend or that torrid night she kidnapped the redhead from the psych institution; they’d been through years together. If she left now she couldn’t just be leaving this situation, this decision she’d already made; she’d be leaving this relationship. Perhaps Lynette hadn’t thoroughly thought it through before she’d given the woman her ultimatum - the blonde certainly didn’t want Bree to walk out that door. And yet, if she didn’t have Bree’s trust, she had nothing.
Surrender. It was a terrifying word and as Bree stared at the golden liquid filling that cup and then the look on Lynette’s face, she wasn’t so sure she could surrender. Give up everything she had, everything she was; to become a shadow of her former self, a mere facet of the intricate design that made up Bree Van deKamp. Who would she be then? What would she become?
With her hand frozen on the banister and her leg aching from its awkwardly placed position, Bree felt as indecisive as her step on the stairs made her look. If she stayed and drank from the cup, she would be signing a silent contract, giving all of herself over to Lynette to do with as she pleased. Bree had a feeling that what had happened the night before was only a hint at what her lover was capable of.
As the minutes ticked by, Lynette prayed that the desperation she was beginning to feel inside wasn’t showing on her face. Her heart felt like it was melting against her ribcage and oozing into every free cavity in her body, as if it were getting ready to evaporate itself out through her skin and splatter all over Bree in a frantic attempt to prove her love.
Lynette was beginning to feel that soul sucking downward spiral as she watched the thoughts move across Bree’s face. Her mind turned to the last year when she’d found herself tossing back ADD medication in order to get through the day, to push this sort of helplessness away. Closing her eyes briefly, she took another breath and was somewhat stunned to find just how much she had invested in this slight woman in front of her. Even Tom, the love of her life, couldn’t compare to these feelings of loving possessiveness and fierce protectiveness.
Bree was beginning to see that, though Lynette held the metaphorical leash in this relationship, it was she who had the power. It was she who had consented to the situation she now found herself in and it was she who could take that consent away. Bree’s eyes washed over Lynette standing there with bated breath and in that moment she realized, it was up to her. Lynette would never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. She also knew she’d been given this ultimatum because Lynette was putting herself on the line; it was all or nothing. It had to be - this was far too delicate a balance. Either you were on or you were off and the other person was left on the ground, shattered into bits.
Her nails dug into the wood of the banister. This wasn’t about the cup left ignored on the counter. It was much more than that. It meant Bree would have to peal back the layers of flesh she’d painstakingly zipped herself into in hopes that no one would be able to see through their translucency to her broken heart. The first splash against her chest surprised her and she jumped, looking down. She was surprised to find herself crying.
As tears made their way down Bree’s face, Lynette felt herself fall and yet she stood firmly on the floor. Inside, she was scrambling and clawing to stay afoot on slippery ground. She wanted to take back her words; she wanted to swallow them whole and choke on them until they were nothing more than regurgitated vomit -incomprehensible, unintelligible blather. Inside she was screaming at herself to take them back but on the outside, she was a stone statue.
You can’t take back words that have already been spoken out loud. Lynette knew that all too well and so she stood there, waiting for Bree’s decision. It was excruciating. Bree was vulnerable; she was a pale, beautiful, vulnerable creature and that was part of what attracted Lynette to her neighbour. Her vulnerability was evident even with the effort Bree took to conceal it. Lynette, however, she was fragile. She was teetering on a precipice waiting to make her Humpty Dumpty debut. If Bree walked out that door, nothing would ever be the same.
Bree had taken an obvious chance but Lynette had also taken a chance on Bree. She’d put herself out there in all her lovely fragility and she’d opened up the deepest parts of herself to her lover, in hopes that she wouldn’t be ridiculed or thought disgusting. Even after all Bree had gone through with Rex and his desire to be dominated, that was nothing compared to Lynette’s imagination. Bree had barely handled Rex’s lecherousness; the blonde hadn’t been so certain that Bree’d be able to handle hers.
She had yet to make a move to brush away her tears. Bree stood still against the backdrop of the Scavo house and held Lynette’s gaze. In that look years of friendship and love unfolded like a tenderly wrapped present. Bree remembered the first time Lynette had held her hand. It had been during Mary Alice’s funeral; Lynette’s grasp had been warm and firm, solid and very present; a reminder that she had the blonde’s support. She recalled how their fingers had laced together like small children playing Red Rover with their best friends. There had been an eager air of excitement in that first touch, one they had ignored for a long time afterwards.
Bree’s tears were wetting her skin beautifully and Lynette took a moment to appreciate them before returning her gaze to the damp green eyes that begged for her dry eyes. Shortly after Rex’s funeral, Lynette had found herself in the Van deKamp house consoling Bree. Somehow consoling had turned into Lynette’s hand on Bree’s cheek and then her mouth on Bree’s lips. Their first kiss had been full of sorrow, regret and tenderness. The forbidden love they’d held for each other while Rex had been alive, bloomed in that moment in Bree’s living room.
With a blink, Lynette was transported back to the current situation. The idea that she would never again kiss that trembling mouth made her knees weak. She would never again run her fingers through that perfect coif of hair and make it an unruly mess. That she would never see Bree sink to her knees and offer herself in that heartbreakingly beautiful way she had mastered in such a short time. Her heart throbbed so painfully Lynette considered that she might, in fact, be having a heart attack.
It was too much; Lynette opened her mouth to take it all back...
...To Be Continued...
x-posted to flickacross bree_lynette desperate_fic girlslash
Fandom: Desperate Housewives
Pairings: Bree Van deKamp and Lynette Scavo
Chapter: Part VIII
Rating: PG-13ish
Author's Note: Very. very. emo. Angsty. Sad. Boo hoo.
She was hesitating for too long.
Lynette began to grow worried as she watched Bree linger with a foot half on, half off the stairs. The liquid in the glass on the counter had grown cold by now but Lynette didn’t dare move for fear of scaring Bree away like a wild creature on the forest floor. She had even been holding her breath until the moment where she felt dizzy enough to take another.
Bree wouldn’t leave, would she? They’d been through far too much together. Not just this weekend or that torrid night she kidnapped the redhead from the psych institution; they’d been through years together. If she left now she couldn’t just be leaving this situation, this decision she’d already made; she’d be leaving this relationship. Perhaps Lynette hadn’t thoroughly thought it through before she’d given the woman her ultimatum - the blonde certainly didn’t want Bree to walk out that door. And yet, if she didn’t have Bree’s trust, she had nothing.
Surrender. It was a terrifying word and as Bree stared at the golden liquid filling that cup and then the look on Lynette’s face, she wasn’t so sure she could surrender. Give up everything she had, everything she was; to become a shadow of her former self, a mere facet of the intricate design that made up Bree Van deKamp. Who would she be then? What would she become?
With her hand frozen on the banister and her leg aching from its awkwardly placed position, Bree felt as indecisive as her step on the stairs made her look. If she stayed and drank from the cup, she would be signing a silent contract, giving all of herself over to Lynette to do with as she pleased. Bree had a feeling that what had happened the night before was only a hint at what her lover was capable of.
As the minutes ticked by, Lynette prayed that the desperation she was beginning to feel inside wasn’t showing on her face. Her heart felt like it was melting against her ribcage and oozing into every free cavity in her body, as if it were getting ready to evaporate itself out through her skin and splatter all over Bree in a frantic attempt to prove her love.
Lynette was beginning to feel that soul sucking downward spiral as she watched the thoughts move across Bree’s face. Her mind turned to the last year when she’d found herself tossing back ADD medication in order to get through the day, to push this sort of helplessness away. Closing her eyes briefly, she took another breath and was somewhat stunned to find just how much she had invested in this slight woman in front of her. Even Tom, the love of her life, couldn’t compare to these feelings of loving possessiveness and fierce protectiveness.
Bree was beginning to see that, though Lynette held the metaphorical leash in this relationship, it was she who had the power. It was she who had consented to the situation she now found herself in and it was she who could take that consent away. Bree’s eyes washed over Lynette standing there with bated breath and in that moment she realized, it was up to her. Lynette would never force her to do anything she didn’t want to do. She also knew she’d been given this ultimatum because Lynette was putting herself on the line; it was all or nothing. It had to be - this was far too delicate a balance. Either you were on or you were off and the other person was left on the ground, shattered into bits.
Her nails dug into the wood of the banister. This wasn’t about the cup left ignored on the counter. It was much more than that. It meant Bree would have to peal back the layers of flesh she’d painstakingly zipped herself into in hopes that no one would be able to see through their translucency to her broken heart. The first splash against her chest surprised her and she jumped, looking down. She was surprised to find herself crying.
As tears made their way down Bree’s face, Lynette felt herself fall and yet she stood firmly on the floor. Inside, she was scrambling and clawing to stay afoot on slippery ground. She wanted to take back her words; she wanted to swallow them whole and choke on them until they were nothing more than regurgitated vomit -incomprehensible, unintelligible blather. Inside she was screaming at herself to take them back but on the outside, she was a stone statue.
You can’t take back words that have already been spoken out loud. Lynette knew that all too well and so she stood there, waiting for Bree’s decision. It was excruciating. Bree was vulnerable; she was a pale, beautiful, vulnerable creature and that was part of what attracted Lynette to her neighbour. Her vulnerability was evident even with the effort Bree took to conceal it. Lynette, however, she was fragile. She was teetering on a precipice waiting to make her Humpty Dumpty debut. If Bree walked out that door, nothing would ever be the same.
Bree had taken an obvious chance but Lynette had also taken a chance on Bree. She’d put herself out there in all her lovely fragility and she’d opened up the deepest parts of herself to her lover, in hopes that she wouldn’t be ridiculed or thought disgusting. Even after all Bree had gone through with Rex and his desire to be dominated, that was nothing compared to Lynette’s imagination. Bree had barely handled Rex’s lecherousness; the blonde hadn’t been so certain that Bree’d be able to handle hers.
She had yet to make a move to brush away her tears. Bree stood still against the backdrop of the Scavo house and held Lynette’s gaze. In that look years of friendship and love unfolded like a tenderly wrapped present. Bree remembered the first time Lynette had held her hand. It had been during Mary Alice’s funeral; Lynette’s grasp had been warm and firm, solid and very present; a reminder that she had the blonde’s support. She recalled how their fingers had laced together like small children playing Red Rover with their best friends. There had been an eager air of excitement in that first touch, one they had ignored for a long time afterwards.
Bree’s tears were wetting her skin beautifully and Lynette took a moment to appreciate them before returning her gaze to the damp green eyes that begged for her dry eyes. Shortly after Rex’s funeral, Lynette had found herself in the Van deKamp house consoling Bree. Somehow consoling had turned into Lynette’s hand on Bree’s cheek and then her mouth on Bree’s lips. Their first kiss had been full of sorrow, regret and tenderness. The forbidden love they’d held for each other while Rex had been alive, bloomed in that moment in Bree’s living room.
With a blink, Lynette was transported back to the current situation. The idea that she would never again kiss that trembling mouth made her knees weak. She would never again run her fingers through that perfect coif of hair and make it an unruly mess. That she would never see Bree sink to her knees and offer herself in that heartbreakingly beautiful way she had mastered in such a short time. Her heart throbbed so painfully Lynette considered that she might, in fact, be having a heart attack.
It was too much; Lynette opened her mouth to take it all back...
...To Be Continued...
x-posted to flickacross bree_lynette desperate_fic girlslash