Playing House | PG | The Hours
Title: Playing House
Prompt: Kissing in the hallway with arms full of loaded towels (p. 143)
Fandom: Laura/Kitty, The Hours
Rating: PG
Word Count: 608
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I’ve been reading The Hours aloud to myself, and every time I pass this particular passage, it remains with me long after I’ve put the book down. This is just a little expansion of that idea. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think.
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Laura Brown still has the key to Kitty’s house. Though she would never presume to enter without being invited, it comforts her to know that it’s tucked away at the bottom of her purse. It gives her a thrill whenever she sees the glint of brass amongst powders and lipsticks. It gives her access to Kitty that no one else has.
Kitty always invites her. Laura never has to ask, and this knowledge is comforting. Kitty has extended an open-invitation, but Laura never takes advantage of it. She needs the validation of Kitty’s request of her company. In some small way, it proves to her that Kitty wants to be around her so much that she will offer the repetitive invitation. It makes Laura feel wanted.
They are not risk-takers. They do not embrace when Richie is around. His wide-eyed observance of every detail scares Kitty. Laura knows that her child will not repeat whatever he should happen to see, but the other woman fears having a witness to her actions. She often plies him with toys or cookies as if to buy his silence.
Once a week Laura leaves Richie with Mrs. Latch, or with a friend of Dan’s who has a daughter that is a year older than Richie. These days are Laura’s favorite; without Richie hovering in her shadow, she feels like she can breathe. She can be Laura instead of “mommy” or “Mrs. Brown.” She can be a woman in love.
They do not go out on these days; they stay at Kitty’s. Sometimes they make love. Sometimes they sit on the sofa and hold hands in companionable silence. Sometimes Laura helps Kitty with her housework. She will do the laundry, but she will never touch Ray’s things. The stark reminder of his presence in Kitty’s life is one that she prefers to avoid. She will wash Kitty’s delicates and the linens.
Laura loves those moments where, locked in the comforting routines of domesticity, she can pretend that this is her home with Kitty. She’s reminded of the dolls she played with as a child, of mimicked marital gestures and sweet playacting of mommy and daddy. She feels fragile like the porcelain faces of her dolls, as if what she and Kitty share could be shattered at any clumsy moment.
Laura was often prone to accidents as a child.
Sometimes Laura will hug the wicker basket to her chest and watch Kitty as she organizes the towels in the closet. She prefers them a certain way, organized by size and color. It’s an idiosyncrasy that Laura has undertaken in her own home. It’s a small reminder of Kitty that she doesn’t have to hide. Under the orange glow of the bulb in the hallway, Kitty’s beauty will radiate like sunlight and Laura will feel instantly warmed. They will kiss over the basket of fresh sheets. The scent of fabric softener and Kitty’s perfume is a heady aphrodisiac that stays with Laura all day.
It hurts a little more each time Laura has to return to her own home. The crash of the domestic illusion she creates is always sharply painful. She feels like a neglected doll that’s lost its mate, locked away in the dark prison of a toy box. She lives for the days when she’s wanted again, when she gets to play once more. It’s these days when she can stop imitating the woman she is expected to be and simply exist as Laura. In Kitty’s eyes, there is no need to maintain a persona to be playacted. She is exactly who Kitty wants her to be. She is Laura-just Laura.
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Prompt: Kissing in the hallway with arms full of loaded towels (p. 143)
Fandom: Laura/Kitty, The Hours
Rating: PG
Word Count: 608
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I’ve been reading The Hours aloud to myself, and every time I pass this particular passage, it remains with me long after I’ve put the book down. This is just a little expansion of that idea. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think.
-
Laura Brown still has the key to Kitty’s house. Though she would never presume to enter without being invited, it comforts her to know that it’s tucked away at the bottom of her purse. It gives her a thrill whenever she sees the glint of brass amongst powders and lipsticks. It gives her access to Kitty that no one else has.
Kitty always invites her. Laura never has to ask, and this knowledge is comforting. Kitty has extended an open-invitation, but Laura never takes advantage of it. She needs the validation of Kitty’s request of her company. In some small way, it proves to her that Kitty wants to be around her so much that she will offer the repetitive invitation. It makes Laura feel wanted.
They are not risk-takers. They do not embrace when Richie is around. His wide-eyed observance of every detail scares Kitty. Laura knows that her child will not repeat whatever he should happen to see, but the other woman fears having a witness to her actions. She often plies him with toys or cookies as if to buy his silence.
Once a week Laura leaves Richie with Mrs. Latch, or with a friend of Dan’s who has a daughter that is a year older than Richie. These days are Laura’s favorite; without Richie hovering in her shadow, she feels like she can breathe. She can be Laura instead of “mommy” or “Mrs. Brown.” She can be a woman in love.
They do not go out on these days; they stay at Kitty’s. Sometimes they make love. Sometimes they sit on the sofa and hold hands in companionable silence. Sometimes Laura helps Kitty with her housework. She will do the laundry, but she will never touch Ray’s things. The stark reminder of his presence in Kitty’s life is one that she prefers to avoid. She will wash Kitty’s delicates and the linens.
Laura loves those moments where, locked in the comforting routines of domesticity, she can pretend that this is her home with Kitty. She’s reminded of the dolls she played with as a child, of mimicked marital gestures and sweet playacting of mommy and daddy. She feels fragile like the porcelain faces of her dolls, as if what she and Kitty share could be shattered at any clumsy moment.
Laura was often prone to accidents as a child.
Sometimes Laura will hug the wicker basket to her chest and watch Kitty as she organizes the towels in the closet. She prefers them a certain way, organized by size and color. It’s an idiosyncrasy that Laura has undertaken in her own home. It’s a small reminder of Kitty that she doesn’t have to hide. Under the orange glow of the bulb in the hallway, Kitty’s beauty will radiate like sunlight and Laura will feel instantly warmed. They will kiss over the basket of fresh sheets. The scent of fabric softener and Kitty’s perfume is a heady aphrodisiac that stays with Laura all day.
It hurts a little more each time Laura has to return to her own home. The crash of the domestic illusion she creates is always sharply painful. She feels like a neglected doll that’s lost its mate, locked away in the dark prison of a toy box. She lives for the days when she’s wanted again, when she gets to play once more. It’s these days when she can stop imitating the woman she is expected to be and simply exist as Laura. In Kitty’s eyes, there is no need to maintain a persona to be playacted. She is exactly who Kitty wants her to be. She is Laura-just Laura.
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