(no subject)
Fandom: Guiding Light
Title: better not touch
Pairing: CC/JL RPS
Rating: PG-13
Summary: And her fingers will thread through yours and grip tightly, and you’ll know she’s tearing up a little too.
Disclaimer: I’m not CC or JL, and this is purely a work of fiction.
A/N: It’s RPF/S. If you’re not cool with it, don’t read it :).
Awards shows are kind of stupid, actually, but you do it because it’s part of the job, and because you do genuinely care about your castmates being praised for being good at their jobs. You care, and you know she cares, and that helps.
Because if you’re going to be completely honest with yourself, it’s been lonely here in this once-familiar state without her. Which is why you’re not exactly minding having to get all dolled up in a designer outfit and talking to reporters about, yet again, what it feels like for it all to be over.
Because once you get inside, you’ll get to sit next to her and see those dimples flash your way, and sneak your hand into hers during the inevitable tribute when you know you’ll be tearing up a little. And her fingers will thread through yours and grip tightly, and you’ll know she’s tearing up a little too.
When she starts tracing lazy circles with her thumb, it’ll make your heart race just that tiny bit faster, that way that makes you want to smile for days and never let go of her hand. Except that you can’t, not anymore, because she still lives out east, and you both have these lives that you’ve built, and it’s all exceptionally shitty, because the thing is, you’re both good people.
You’re good people, so you can’t let your leg fall against hers while you watch someone two rows ahead of you get an award, because you know the camera will pan the audience.
You’re good people, so you can’t let your hand rest on her hip in the bathroom, fingertips pressing into soft curves, because someone might see you.
You’re good people, so you can’t let your tongue slide against hers after your third glass of wine at some after party you’ll probably go to, because you’re not them anymore.
You’re good people, so instead you’ll hold hands and wait for October.
Title: better not touch
Pairing: CC/JL RPS
Rating: PG-13
Summary: And her fingers will thread through yours and grip tightly, and you’ll know she’s tearing up a little too.
Disclaimer: I’m not CC or JL, and this is purely a work of fiction.
A/N: It’s RPF/S. If you’re not cool with it, don’t read it :).
Awards shows are kind of stupid, actually, but you do it because it’s part of the job, and because you do genuinely care about your castmates being praised for being good at their jobs. You care, and you know she cares, and that helps.
Because if you’re going to be completely honest with yourself, it’s been lonely here in this once-familiar state without her. Which is why you’re not exactly minding having to get all dolled up in a designer outfit and talking to reporters about, yet again, what it feels like for it all to be over.
Because once you get inside, you’ll get to sit next to her and see those dimples flash your way, and sneak your hand into hers during the inevitable tribute when you know you’ll be tearing up a little. And her fingers will thread through yours and grip tightly, and you’ll know she’s tearing up a little too.
When she starts tracing lazy circles with her thumb, it’ll make your heart race just that tiny bit faster, that way that makes you want to smile for days and never let go of her hand. Except that you can’t, not anymore, because she still lives out east, and you both have these lives that you’ve built, and it’s all exceptionally shitty, because the thing is, you’re both good people.
You’re good people, so you can’t let your leg fall against hers while you watch someone two rows ahead of you get an award, because you know the camera will pan the audience.
You’re good people, so you can’t let your hand rest on her hip in the bathroom, fingertips pressing into soft curves, because someone might see you.
You’re good people, so you can’t let your tongue slide against hers after your third glass of wine at some after party you’ll probably go to, because you’re not them anymore.
You’re good people, so instead you’ll hold hands and wait for October.