Holding on
Oct. 15th, 2009 05:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sermocinare(x-posted)
Author: Fireez
Challenge: Blueberry Yoghurt #2 (homecoming), Molasses #30 (fade to black) and Fudge Ripple #3 (exhaustion)
Rating: PG-13 (some making out)
Word count: 1216
Summary: In the aftermath of the explosion, Dee and Irene draw strength from each other
Author's notes: Follow-up to this.
Irene gulped down the last of her whisky, then put down the tumbler and rubbed her brow with thumb and forefinger. Dee noted that her hands had finally stopped shaking. Good. Still, she looked... drained. Exhausted, as if she had not slept for days. He reached out and lightly touched her elbow, which was resting on the small table in a corner of the bar they had fled to as soon as they had felt able to get up and walking again. Irene let out a sigh, and closed her eyes:
"We should go home now."
Dee nodded, fingers still rubbing her elbow, almost absent-mindedly: "You're right." He mustered up some of the strength that had returned during the last hour, and let it resonate through his voice: "But you're coming with me."
She gave him a sceptical look: "You sure that's a good idea?" She moved her hand from the glass onto his, and he could still feel the chill of the ice on her fingertips. "You know that your father doesn't exactly like the idea..."
Dee clenched his jaw, anger flashing in his eyes: "Well, I don't care. Not today." Seeing the slightly worried look on Irene's face, he went on: "You know... usually, I'm a good son. Hell, I'm even a good daughter if he asks me to." He looked down into his drink, giving the liquid a swirl that made the ice clank against the wall of the glass: "I know I'm not perfect. But I do what he asks of me, and I love him, you know that. But today, he'll just have to get the fuck over himself." He looked up, meeting Irene's gaze, and turned his hand so he could curl his fingers around hers: "I thought I might've lost you today. I don't want to feel like that ever again."
Letting her fingers entwine with his, Irene gave him a smile, the first one he had seen on her face today. Then, she lifted his hand and placed a soft kiss on his fingers: "Thank you. I was afraid of being alone tonight. After all that has happened..." she bit her lip, shaking her head slowly: "I don't know if I would've been able to sleep."
"Me neither."
When they reached Dee's car, the last rays of light were turning the sky a deep red, and the streetlights were humming into life around them, bathing the roads and pavement in their flickering yellow light. They didn't speak during the ride home, but Dee would occasionally reach over and grasp Irene's hand, as if reassuring himself that she was still there.
Arriving at the Hohenheim's residence, Dee ushered Irene in through the large double doors that made up the front entrance, his grin somewhere between sly and embarrassed: "Welcome to our humble abode."
"Humble abode my ass," Irene whispered, giving him a short slap on the arm. She had been to the villa a few times before, but she would probably never get used to it. It was impressive, to say the least. Large - way too large for two people - and bathed in seemingly perpetual shadows, Villa Hohenheim was a strange mix of awe-inspiring and creepy.
Dee kicked the door shut with his heel, causing it to slam into the lock with an audible bang that resonated off the walls of the entrance hall. Irene glared at him: "You did that on purpose."
"Yup." He grinned, straightening up a bit: "I'm not going to creep around the house like a burglar just because I'm bringing my girlfriend home for the night."
A voice rang down from somewhere on the upper floor: "Dee? Is that you?"
"It's me," Dee called back, "and Irene."
Turning towards Irene, he took her by the arm: "Come on. Let's go upstairs."
Irene nodded, and they climbed the wide marble staircase that led to the upper floor, which held the bedrooms, most of which had been converted into studies, and a library, the door of which now opened, Dee's father stepping out of the warm glow of the library and into the somewhat dimmer light of the corridor:
"Irene. Good evening to you."
He smiled, picking his reading glasses off his nose, eyes shining with the same bright blue as Dee's. Irene extended a hand, and was slightly surprised that the older man didn't let go after giving it the customary short kiss.
"I read about the explosion at the university in the evening paper. I hope you're all right?"
He inclined his head, looking at her with genuine concern.
Out of the corner of her vision, Irene could see Dee's eyebrows raise slightly. Apparently, this had not been the reaction he had expected. She smiled, then nodded:
"I'm all right. I wasn't in the laboratory when it happened." She gave her love's arm a slight squeeze: "And Dee came and took care of me right away. So yes, I'm fine."
"It's already in the papers?" Dee asked, glancing in the direction of the library. "What are they saying? Anything about what caused it?"
His father shook his head: "Nothing much yet, but the papers are full of it. They even have some colored pictures in the Abendzeitung." He looked at his child: "I was worried." Then, he inclined his head towards Irene: "Well, it's good to hear that you are all right, Miss Rosenthal." With that, he retreated back into the library, shutting the door behind him.
Dee raised his eyebrows and blinked: "Now that wasn't what I expected."
"Hm." Irene bit her lip, looking at the now closed door thoughtfully: "I think you underestimate your father sometimes, Dee."
Dee shook his head slightly, still seeming surprised: "I guess you're right."
Upon reaching Dee's rooms, Irene let herself sink down on a sofa near the fireplace, glad that it was still warm enough that a fire was not needed, flames being the last thing she wanted to see right now. Dee sat down beside her, and she let him pull her into his arms, letting her head rest against his shoulder: "God..."
Giving her a gentle hug, Dee pressed his lips to her forehead and temples: "I'm so glad this is over."
Irene turned slightly, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck, gently kissing the soft skin: "And I'm glad you were there." She straightened up, resting a hand on his cheek and looking into his eyes: "I love you."
"And I love you too, Irene." He leaned into her kiss, sighing at the soft touch of her lips against his, letting his hands stroke her back gently, soothingly. She snuggled up against him, the warm weight of her body slowly melting away the fear that had lodged itself in his heart, until all he could think of was the taste of her lips and the smell of her skin, warm and familiar underneath the lingering smell of biting smoke.
Breaking the kiss, Irene moved over until she was sitting on his lap. She leaned her forehead against his, stroking his stomach lightly, brown eyes shining and alive now, glowing with a very own fire, and whispered: "Don't ever let me go."
Dee shuddered, spine tigling with her touch, and smiled at her before leaning up to kiss her again: "Promise."
Author: Fireez
Challenge: Blueberry Yoghurt #2 (homecoming), Molasses #30 (fade to black) and Fudge Ripple #3 (exhaustion)
Rating: PG-13 (some making out)
Word count: 1216
Summary: In the aftermath of the explosion, Dee and Irene draw strength from each other
Author's notes: Follow-up to this.
Irene gulped down the last of her whisky, then put down the tumbler and rubbed her brow with thumb and forefinger. Dee noted that her hands had finally stopped shaking. Good. Still, she looked... drained. Exhausted, as if she had not slept for days. He reached out and lightly touched her elbow, which was resting on the small table in a corner of the bar they had fled to as soon as they had felt able to get up and walking again. Irene let out a sigh, and closed her eyes:
"We should go home now."
Dee nodded, fingers still rubbing her elbow, almost absent-mindedly: "You're right." He mustered up some of the strength that had returned during the last hour, and let it resonate through his voice: "But you're coming with me."
She gave him a sceptical look: "You sure that's a good idea?" She moved her hand from the glass onto his, and he could still feel the chill of the ice on her fingertips. "You know that your father doesn't exactly like the idea..."
Dee clenched his jaw, anger flashing in his eyes: "Well, I don't care. Not today." Seeing the slightly worried look on Irene's face, he went on: "You know... usually, I'm a good son. Hell, I'm even a good daughter if he asks me to." He looked down into his drink, giving the liquid a swirl that made the ice clank against the wall of the glass: "I know I'm not perfect. But I do what he asks of me, and I love him, you know that. But today, he'll just have to get the fuck over himself." He looked up, meeting Irene's gaze, and turned his hand so he could curl his fingers around hers: "I thought I might've lost you today. I don't want to feel like that ever again."
Letting her fingers entwine with his, Irene gave him a smile, the first one he had seen on her face today. Then, she lifted his hand and placed a soft kiss on his fingers: "Thank you. I was afraid of being alone tonight. After all that has happened..." she bit her lip, shaking her head slowly: "I don't know if I would've been able to sleep."
"Me neither."
When they reached Dee's car, the last rays of light were turning the sky a deep red, and the streetlights were humming into life around them, bathing the roads and pavement in their flickering yellow light. They didn't speak during the ride home, but Dee would occasionally reach over and grasp Irene's hand, as if reassuring himself that she was still there.
Arriving at the Hohenheim's residence, Dee ushered Irene in through the large double doors that made up the front entrance, his grin somewhere between sly and embarrassed: "Welcome to our humble abode."
"Humble abode my ass," Irene whispered, giving him a short slap on the arm. She had been to the villa a few times before, but she would probably never get used to it. It was impressive, to say the least. Large - way too large for two people - and bathed in seemingly perpetual shadows, Villa Hohenheim was a strange mix of awe-inspiring and creepy.
Dee kicked the door shut with his heel, causing it to slam into the lock with an audible bang that resonated off the walls of the entrance hall. Irene glared at him: "You did that on purpose."
"Yup." He grinned, straightening up a bit: "I'm not going to creep around the house like a burglar just because I'm bringing my girlfriend home for the night."
A voice rang down from somewhere on the upper floor: "Dee? Is that you?"
"It's me," Dee called back, "and Irene."
Turning towards Irene, he took her by the arm: "Come on. Let's go upstairs."
Irene nodded, and they climbed the wide marble staircase that led to the upper floor, which held the bedrooms, most of which had been converted into studies, and a library, the door of which now opened, Dee's father stepping out of the warm glow of the library and into the somewhat dimmer light of the corridor:
"Irene. Good evening to you."
He smiled, picking his reading glasses off his nose, eyes shining with the same bright blue as Dee's. Irene extended a hand, and was slightly surprised that the older man didn't let go after giving it the customary short kiss.
"I read about the explosion at the university in the evening paper. I hope you're all right?"
He inclined his head, looking at her with genuine concern.
Out of the corner of her vision, Irene could see Dee's eyebrows raise slightly. Apparently, this had not been the reaction he had expected. She smiled, then nodded:
"I'm all right. I wasn't in the laboratory when it happened." She gave her love's arm a slight squeeze: "And Dee came and took care of me right away. So yes, I'm fine."
"It's already in the papers?" Dee asked, glancing in the direction of the library. "What are they saying? Anything about what caused it?"
His father shook his head: "Nothing much yet, but the papers are full of it. They even have some colored pictures in the Abendzeitung." He looked at his child: "I was worried." Then, he inclined his head towards Irene: "Well, it's good to hear that you are all right, Miss Rosenthal." With that, he retreated back into the library, shutting the door behind him.
Dee raised his eyebrows and blinked: "Now that wasn't what I expected."
"Hm." Irene bit her lip, looking at the now closed door thoughtfully: "I think you underestimate your father sometimes, Dee."
Dee shook his head slightly, still seeming surprised: "I guess you're right."
Upon reaching Dee's rooms, Irene let herself sink down on a sofa near the fireplace, glad that it was still warm enough that a fire was not needed, flames being the last thing she wanted to see right now. Dee sat down beside her, and she let him pull her into his arms, letting her head rest against his shoulder: "God..."
Giving her a gentle hug, Dee pressed his lips to her forehead and temples: "I'm so glad this is over."
Irene turned slightly, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck, gently kissing the soft skin: "And I'm glad you were there." She straightened up, resting a hand on his cheek and looking into his eyes: "I love you."
"And I love you too, Irene." He leaned into her kiss, sighing at the soft touch of her lips against his, letting his hands stroke her back gently, soothingly. She snuggled up against him, the warm weight of her body slowly melting away the fear that had lodged itself in his heart, until all he could think of was the taste of her lips and the smell of her skin, warm and familiar underneath the lingering smell of biting smoke.
Breaking the kiss, Irene moved over until she was sitting on his lap. She leaned her forehead against his, stroking his stomach lightly, brown eyes shining and alive now, glowing with a very own fire, and whispered: "Don't ever let me go."
Dee shuddered, spine tigling with her touch, and smiled at her before leaning up to kiss her again: "Promise."
