what we once were // the x-files // msr // post- “home again” // angst
His hand is rough in hers, callused, and she wonders when that happened.
Not like she’s had an excuse to touch him for a long time. Not like he’s been hers to touch.
But her hand still fits in his like he was made for her, or she for him, and as she leads him up the stairs to her apartment it almost feels like old times.
But her place is different and he hesitates in the doorway where before they’d already have their clothes off. He stares at her like he doesn’t know her.
His voice is as rough as his hands. She doesn’t want him to talk, she just wants to kiss him and hold him and not think, not fucking hear anything but the sound of their own breathing for awhile.
She wants him to touch her, not just his hands in hers but his hands on her, on her waist, under her shirt.
But if he touches her she’s afraid she’ll shatter. Afraid that while he tries to hold her together his touch will be the thing that breaks her in two.
So she reaches out. She crosses the void, and she places her hands on his shoulders, and he bends down to kiss her like he has for so many years.
It feels right. It feels wrong. It feels like old times and not, because she is not who she once was.
The remnants of a beard scratch her face where before he used to be smooth, the lines by his eyes more pronounced.
But he is still hers, she is still his, and right now that’s the best either of them can hope for.
It’s been awhile since I’ve written some MSR drabbles so I wanted to tag some authors in fandom I really admire, especially for MSR, for some feedback. I may continue this one but I’m not entirely sure yet.