Don't look at me - a Little women fanfiction- chapter 2
When I started this, I was determined to write just a little oneshot...(and I think that this will be the final chapter,at least I hope my muse will let me finish it here). But anyway, after posting it, I found out that I wanted to hear their thoughts about what I let happen to them,so here it is. Hope you enjoy it.
She didn't how it had happened.
She remembered the kiss, of course, and after that the odd feeling that they were living a lifetime remembered moment.
The little smiles they shared, and then his hand caressing her cheek, like he wanted to be reassured by her flesh that she was still here,near him. And finally the second kiss, with the confidence that it was real, that they were living it, and it was not a scene of her tales,where she imagined herself as the brave lady and him as the valiant foreign king,finally admitting their mutual feellings-or one of his dreams,where she didn't escape away from him after a small sign of interest.
And then,she yawned.
She knew it was not the most romantic act to perform in front of him, especially after a kiss- and her mother,and Meg, and almost every female in Conchord told her that she was not supposed to let the people see her tonsils when she felt tired...but she was tired, that chapter didn't let her sleep properly last night, and she yawned in front of Teddy a billion times, Christopher Columbus! He must know that, even if they kissed, she was still the old Jo March, sometimes rude, not completely tamed, maybe a little too much earthy...
His words shook her from her thoughts.
“Are you tired ?”
She nodded, and let him drag and rather unceremonoiusly drop her on the old ottoman in her attic. “So, farewell to romanticism...” she thought, before her eyelashes closed. So after a few minutes, she fell completely asleep, and didn't see him staring at her with a look that would made her blush, so full of care and adoration. Only when he was sure that her sleep was deep enough, he moved her towards his side, and let her head fall on his shoulder, while putting his arms around her. With a last look on her peaceful vise, and a last little smile at her light yet persistent snoring, he closed his own eyes, and let his mind fall in a serene sleep.
So, when she woke up later (and she didn't know how late it was,but it was certainly dark outside), the first thing she saw was his ratherly handsome face, and the first thing she felt was his embrace; and even if she didn't recall the exact sequence of events that led them to share her ottoman, she was sure she could get used to that. And after all, her couch never seemed so comfortable like in that moment.
The End
She didn't how it had happened.
She remembered the kiss, of course, and after that the odd feeling that they were living a lifetime remembered moment.
The little smiles they shared, and then his hand caressing her cheek, like he wanted to be reassured by her flesh that she was still here,near him. And finally the second kiss, with the confidence that it was real, that they were living it, and it was not a scene of her tales,where she imagined herself as the brave lady and him as the valiant foreign king,finally admitting their mutual feellings-or one of his dreams,where she didn't escape away from him after a small sign of interest.
And then,she yawned.
She knew it was not the most romantic act to perform in front of him, especially after a kiss- and her mother,and Meg, and almost every female in Conchord told her that she was not supposed to let the people see her tonsils when she felt tired...but she was tired, that chapter didn't let her sleep properly last night, and she yawned in front of Teddy a billion times, Christopher Columbus! He must know that, even if they kissed, she was still the old Jo March, sometimes rude, not completely tamed, maybe a little too much earthy...
His words shook her from her thoughts.
“Are you tired ?”
She nodded, and let him drag and rather unceremonoiusly drop her on the old ottoman in her attic. “So, farewell to romanticism...” she thought, before her eyelashes closed. So after a few minutes, she fell completely asleep, and didn't see him staring at her with a look that would made her blush, so full of care and adoration. Only when he was sure that her sleep was deep enough, he moved her towards his side, and let her head fall on his shoulder, while putting his arms around her. With a last look on her peaceful vise, and a last little smile at her light yet persistent snoring, he closed his own eyes, and let his mind fall in a serene sleep.
So, when she woke up later (and she didn't know how late it was,but it was certainly dark outside), the first thing she saw was his ratherly handsome face, and the first thing she felt was his embrace; and even if she didn't recall the exact sequence of events that led them to share her ottoman, she was sure she could get used to that. And after all, her couch never seemed so comfortable like in that moment.
The End