fic: trying to spin the world the other way (rps - cheryl cole/kimberley walsh)
Title: Trying To Spin The World The Other Way
Author: ripptyd
Rating: PG
Fandom: Girls Aloud, Cheryl Cole/Kimberley Walsh (RPS)
Word Count: 675
Summary: Her dark hair is falling down across the back of her neck and all you want to do is bury your face right there.
This isn’t like you. You don’t go to bed angry. It’s not healthy, and you’re all about peace of mind even though it’s generally a busy place in your head. But she found the hot button and pushed it, and you just walked away. So you’re sprawled out on the couch in the living room, clock-watching and listening to the ticking coming from somewhere on the wall.
You’re shifting and the thin blanket that you grabbed from one of the many linen closets is tangled around you until you can’t keep it together anymore. You kick it off in an uncharacteristic fury as you flail a bit, and the noise in your throat is strangled frustration.
You don’t know why you even bothered to stay. You should have grabbed your keys sitting on her kitchen countertop and bolted out the front door. You should have sped down the road for an infuriating silent hour in the middle of the night and climbed into your own bed in your own apartment. Because this isn’t the first time, and you know it won’t be the last.
But you aren’t. And that’s why you’re running your fingers through your hair and staring at the steps in front of you now. The floor is cold to your bare feet and you’re trying to move smoothly as you get closer.
The hallway is black except for the strip of soft yellow glowing through the crack at the bottom of the door. And you’re fidgeting, playing with your nails. And you just don’t feel like yourself. As if you’ve stepped into someone else’s life and body for the past couple hours. It makes you a bit lightheaded. And when your hand shakily turns the doorknob, you use your body to ease the solid oak free from the jamb.
Her back is to you, and your out of body experience is finally over. Her dark hair is falling down across the back of her neck and all you want to do is bury your face right there. You practically ache to fix this.
You whisper her name because you’re not sure if she’s asleep or not. The small table lamp next to her is on, and the room is in this awkward state of light where you wonder if you’d see better if the light were just off. She hates sleeping with any lights on (it gives her headaches when she wakes up), but her breathing looks so slow and steady that she just might be.
So you creep. You creep closer and you gingerly lower yourself to the bed, working your way across the huge mattress to be right behind her. And your head rests on the pillow with hers, and you can’t help but miss how long her hair used to be. Your chest is burning and you remember that you are holding your breath. So you exhale and watch the dark strands in front of you flutter.
You just do it. You wrap your arm around her waist and you hold her close. The lump in your throat makes it hard to speak, but you whisper against her ear. You apologize. Even though just five minutes earlier you were fuming. But then you saw her, and all you wanted to do was apologize so life could move on. Because when things are like this, your world does indeed come to a full stop.
It’s the longest minute of your life while you wait for her to react. And she doesn’t. So you start to pull your hand away, but you feel her small fingers gripping your wrist. She pulls you back against her and she kisses your fingers softly and she apologizes.
And in that moment you can breathe easily again, inhaling deeply. The heavy feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach is gone.
She reaches to switch off the lamp with a soft click, and your lips press against the back of her neck tenderly.
Your world starts to move again the way that it should.
Author: ripptyd
Rating: PG
Fandom: Girls Aloud, Cheryl Cole/Kimberley Walsh (RPS)
Word Count: 675
Summary: Her dark hair is falling down across the back of her neck and all you want to do is bury your face right there.
This isn’t like you. You don’t go to bed angry. It’s not healthy, and you’re all about peace of mind even though it’s generally a busy place in your head. But she found the hot button and pushed it, and you just walked away. So you’re sprawled out on the couch in the living room, clock-watching and listening to the ticking coming from somewhere on the wall.
You’re shifting and the thin blanket that you grabbed from one of the many linen closets is tangled around you until you can’t keep it together anymore. You kick it off in an uncharacteristic fury as you flail a bit, and the noise in your throat is strangled frustration.
You don’t know why you even bothered to stay. You should have grabbed your keys sitting on her kitchen countertop and bolted out the front door. You should have sped down the road for an infuriating silent hour in the middle of the night and climbed into your own bed in your own apartment. Because this isn’t the first time, and you know it won’t be the last.
But you aren’t. And that’s why you’re running your fingers through your hair and staring at the steps in front of you now. The floor is cold to your bare feet and you’re trying to move smoothly as you get closer.
The hallway is black except for the strip of soft yellow glowing through the crack at the bottom of the door. And you’re fidgeting, playing with your nails. And you just don’t feel like yourself. As if you’ve stepped into someone else’s life and body for the past couple hours. It makes you a bit lightheaded. And when your hand shakily turns the doorknob, you use your body to ease the solid oak free from the jamb.
Her back is to you, and your out of body experience is finally over. Her dark hair is falling down across the back of her neck and all you want to do is bury your face right there. You practically ache to fix this.
You whisper her name because you’re not sure if she’s asleep or not. The small table lamp next to her is on, and the room is in this awkward state of light where you wonder if you’d see better if the light were just off. She hates sleeping with any lights on (it gives her headaches when she wakes up), but her breathing looks so slow and steady that she just might be.
So you creep. You creep closer and you gingerly lower yourself to the bed, working your way across the huge mattress to be right behind her. And your head rests on the pillow with hers, and you can’t help but miss how long her hair used to be. Your chest is burning and you remember that you are holding your breath. So you exhale and watch the dark strands in front of you flutter.
You just do it. You wrap your arm around her waist and you hold her close. The lump in your throat makes it hard to speak, but you whisper against her ear. You apologize. Even though just five minutes earlier you were fuming. But then you saw her, and all you wanted to do was apologize so life could move on. Because when things are like this, your world does indeed come to a full stop.
It’s the longest minute of your life while you wait for her to react. And she doesn’t. So you start to pull your hand away, but you feel her small fingers gripping your wrist. She pulls you back against her and she kisses your fingers softly and she apologizes.
And in that moment you can breathe easily again, inhaling deeply. The heavy feeling sitting in the pit of your stomach is gone.
She reaches to switch off the lamp with a soft click, and your lips press against the back of her neck tenderly.
Your world starts to move again the way that it should.