Post by lubylover4life on Oct 24, 2008 1:00:27 GMT 10
Ok, so this is my first fic...I'm probably going to make a fool of myself by posting it but here goes! It's most likely going to be a oneshot, but I'll continue it if anyone wants me to! Please R&R! Hope you like it
Takes place during Season 14's "Coming Home." (Abby's POV)
He’s here, striding down the corridor as though he never truly left. If only. Morris seems to dances away from him, a flurry of activity as usual. His eyes meet yours, and in that moment, there is only the two of you. Matching smiles break out across your faces and suddenly, unbeknownst to your brain your feet are running toward him.
Bounding into his arms, he swings you around, holding you so tightly that your shapes mold together like a sculpture of pure joy. You feel his smile extend against your face; feel him breathing in the scent of your neck. Opening your eyes, you stroke his hair gently, trying to convince yourself that he is not an apparition, that this is not some wonderful dream that will leave your heart aching for him in the morning. Yes, he is real-his heart beats strongly against yours, and those words you uttered months ago ring in your ears. “I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.” You shut your eyes once more, and in this moment, you almost believe everything will be okay. Hope has returned also, pushing away the darkness of despair for now. Surely the love in your heart can overpower the guilt that threatens to suffocate you. You hang on to this hope as tightly as you do your husband, praying both can make you strong again.
With his arm around you, you stroll down the hallway. He came home early to surprise you, wanted to see the look on your face. You wish you’d known. You would have taken the day off, you say. Less chance of running into Coburn, Moretti and even Pratt, who might act like a concerned friend and tell your husband how drunk you were last week. That niggling voice in your head starts babbling, question after question swimming round your brain. What kind of wife are you to have threatened your relationship with this wonderful man? If you tell him the truth, will that one night have cost you everything you were so fortunate to gain? Even if he somehow forgives you, can you forgive yourself?
He says he got you something. Somewhat shyly, he hands you a heart shaped candle. He must mistake the guilt on your face for confusion, because he starts babbling about how he knows it’s corny, till he pauses, and says that it’s what you’re meant to get your girl back home when you haven’t seen her in a while. Oh, Luka. Then he mentions the blackout, and it’s all you can do just to smile and seem amused. He tells you he missed you so much, and takes your face in his hands, eager to kiss you after so long. His lips meet yours softly at first, before quickly slipping back into the old routine of an intense passion. You both almost forget where you are until the lounge door opens and someone nearly collides with the two of you. And as your husband smiles, and shakes his hand, making polite small talk, you feel the darkness returning, and allow it to swallow you up. It is then, in that precise moment that you realise, you know, that there is no going back from what you’ve done.
nicole x
Takes place during Season 14's "Coming Home." (Abby's POV)
He’s here, striding down the corridor as though he never truly left. If only. Morris seems to dances away from him, a flurry of activity as usual. His eyes meet yours, and in that moment, there is only the two of you. Matching smiles break out across your faces and suddenly, unbeknownst to your brain your feet are running toward him.
Bounding into his arms, he swings you around, holding you so tightly that your shapes mold together like a sculpture of pure joy. You feel his smile extend against your face; feel him breathing in the scent of your neck. Opening your eyes, you stroke his hair gently, trying to convince yourself that he is not an apparition, that this is not some wonderful dream that will leave your heart aching for him in the morning. Yes, he is real-his heart beats strongly against yours, and those words you uttered months ago ring in your ears. “I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart.” You shut your eyes once more, and in this moment, you almost believe everything will be okay. Hope has returned also, pushing away the darkness of despair for now. Surely the love in your heart can overpower the guilt that threatens to suffocate you. You hang on to this hope as tightly as you do your husband, praying both can make you strong again.
With his arm around you, you stroll down the hallway. He came home early to surprise you, wanted to see the look on your face. You wish you’d known. You would have taken the day off, you say. Less chance of running into Coburn, Moretti and even Pratt, who might act like a concerned friend and tell your husband how drunk you were last week. That niggling voice in your head starts babbling, question after question swimming round your brain. What kind of wife are you to have threatened your relationship with this wonderful man? If you tell him the truth, will that one night have cost you everything you were so fortunate to gain? Even if he somehow forgives you, can you forgive yourself?
He says he got you something. Somewhat shyly, he hands you a heart shaped candle. He must mistake the guilt on your face for confusion, because he starts babbling about how he knows it’s corny, till he pauses, and says that it’s what you’re meant to get your girl back home when you haven’t seen her in a while. Oh, Luka. Then he mentions the blackout, and it’s all you can do just to smile and seem amused. He tells you he missed you so much, and takes your face in his hands, eager to kiss you after so long. His lips meet yours softly at first, before quickly slipping back into the old routine of an intense passion. You both almost forget where you are until the lounge door opens and someone nearly collides with the two of you. And as your husband smiles, and shakes his hand, making polite small talk, you feel the darkness returning, and allow it to swallow you up. It is then, in that precise moment that you realise, you know, that there is no going back from what you’ve done.
nicole x