My attempts at a Lizzie Bennet Diaries fanfic
It is not possible, he knows, to fall in love on the basis of a few chance encounters. How can one properly assess someone's character in mere hours, surrounded by drunk cretins and wildly gyrating bodies? A true relationship should be based on common interests, shared values, and a mutual attraction.
He can't stop thinking about her.
The dance. Strands of her hair brushing against the curve of her cheek, the way she'd bit her bottom lip when she got frustrated with his taciturnity, sparks flying as her body brushed against his, her fingers wrapped around his, only highlighting the fragility of her wrist, the only bit of delicateness he can see, everything else overshadowed by the fierce fire that burns within her. Her personality: rude, brash, blunt. She is unlike any of the cultured, sophisticated, girls he's known all his life.
It feels a little like waking up.
Netherfield. Knowing she was there, under the same roof, there is no adequate description for what he was feeling then. Every room he entered, there'd be the faintest hint of her perfume, taunting him. He'd search in vain for clever conversation, landing on ridiculous topics, all in a doomed effort to engage her attention. His inanity continually led her to rebuff him and he was reduced to sitting there, like a mute fool, watching her smile brightly at everyone but him.
He desperately wants to touch her again.
The bar. Wickham. He can't be in the same room as that man. He's made promises, to himself, to his baby sister, and he would have broken every one of them if he remained there. It was the rational decision to make. He felt like he abandoned her, though, left her vulnerable to Wickham's machinations. Of course, her family was there and she always watches over her energetic younger sister, but none of them knew what Wickham is capable of. Her friendliness with that man only went to prove her poor judgement of character.
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Lizzie's videos were something he kept to himself. Caroline and Fitz knew about the videos, obviously, but he preferred not to discuss them. It was a small part of her that he could keep with him. Sometimes, if he particularly missed her, he'd let them play through, just so he could hear her voice. It was a foolish indulgence, yes, but one he saw no harm in. Until his sister caught him.
They'd gone on their annual ski trip and Gigi had asked to borrow his iPad.
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It should not be possible, he thinks, to fall in love after a few chance encounters. A true relationship should be based on common interests, shared values, and a mutal attraction. Certainly, one party shouldn't have a deep and unbiding loathing for the other.
He loves her anyway.
She's quite unlike the cultured, sophisticated, girls he's known all his life. She's quick to judgement, holds grudges for a stunningly long time, and remains wilfully blind to anything that contradicts her worldview. But there's a fire to her, a burning that lights her up from within. It's never directed at him, but her smile is radiant and her laughter is infectious. She has playful whimsy and fierce protectiveness for her loved ones.
And she hates him.
Her videos are all he has. He keeps them to himself, despite Caroline and Fitz knowing about them. They're a small part of her that he can carry with him. Sometimes, if he particularly misses her, he lets them play through while he tackles paperwork. Her voice floats through the room and the words become meaningless, as he listens only to the sound of her, the cadence and rhythm. His sister catches him on his iPad, once, while on their annual ski vacation. He attempted to fob her off with the barest details, but she quickly ferreted out the rest from Caroline and Fitz and is now a perpetually grinning thorn in his side. He does his best to ignore the drawbacks of having a little sister and