Easy Silence
Jan. 12th, 2012 02:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intheheartTitle: Easy Silence
Rating: G
Summary: Hugh and Joanna, being together.
Notes: Title from a Dixie Chicks song.
Joanna picks her way over the puddles, arms laden with shopping bags, and tries very hard not to trip. This most recent job requires heels, and she is wobbly on the rain-slick pavement; her family is coming into town, and her groceries are heavier than usual. She slips, and catches herself, slips again.
"Let me help you," a man says, and takes a bag before she can object.
She knows him, she sees with relief. She's worked for him. He's a nice man, with secret pains, but who doesn't have those?
"Thank you," she says, smiles. "My car's this way."
--
The day after she recieves her masters' degree, he runs into her at the store, and her smile is blinding.
"Congratulations," Hugh says, feeling as if he's been punched in the heart.
"Thank you!" she says, brightly, bouncing on her heels, swinging her basket. It's odd, to see her so animated; he's used to her still and quiet. He likes this part of her. "I can hardly believe it. No more temping."
"Yes, a wonderful thing," he says. "Let me take you to dinner? To celebrate," he adds, hastily, and her smile gets wider.
"To celebrate," she echoes. "Absolutely. "
--
They go out together often enough, but Joanna prefers these nights in; dinner, a rented movie, being together. She doesn't have to dress up as much, doesn't need to chat or fill silences when it's just the two of them.
Tonight they have spoken rarely, eating and sharing coffee in comfortable silence. She wants every night to be like this; wants to spend the rest of her life with this man, baggage and all.
"Joanna," he says suddenly. She looks up to find his eyes on her. "Joanna, let me marry you?"
She smiles. She has known her answer forever.
--
It's been raining again, fat drops splatting on the restaurant parking lot. Joanna is wearing heels again, laughing and holding his arm for balance as they weave their way around the puddles, huddling under the same umbrella.
She loves the rain. He could take it or leave it himself but she loves the rain, loves the water and the sound of it, the smell of the ground after a shower, the peace it imposes on the world.
There's no one in the world but them, just now.
"Joanna," he says, "let me kiss you," and bends to her upturned mouth.
Rating: G
Summary: Hugh and Joanna, being together.
Notes: Title from a Dixie Chicks song.
Joanna picks her way over the puddles, arms laden with shopping bags, and tries very hard not to trip. This most recent job requires heels, and she is wobbly on the rain-slick pavement; her family is coming into town, and her groceries are heavier than usual. She slips, and catches herself, slips again.
"Let me help you," a man says, and takes a bag before she can object.
She knows him, she sees with relief. She's worked for him. He's a nice man, with secret pains, but who doesn't have those?
"Thank you," she says, smiles. "My car's this way."
--
The day after she recieves her masters' degree, he runs into her at the store, and her smile is blinding.
"Congratulations," Hugh says, feeling as if he's been punched in the heart.
"Thank you!" she says, brightly, bouncing on her heels, swinging her basket. It's odd, to see her so animated; he's used to her still and quiet. He likes this part of her. "I can hardly believe it. No more temping."
"Yes, a wonderful thing," he says. "Let me take you to dinner? To celebrate," he adds, hastily, and her smile gets wider.
"To celebrate," she echoes. "Absolutely. "
--
They go out together often enough, but Joanna prefers these nights in; dinner, a rented movie, being together. She doesn't have to dress up as much, doesn't need to chat or fill silences when it's just the two of them.
Tonight they have spoken rarely, eating and sharing coffee in comfortable silence. She wants every night to be like this; wants to spend the rest of her life with this man, baggage and all.
"Joanna," he says suddenly. She looks up to find his eyes on her. "Joanna, let me marry you?"
She smiles. She has known her answer forever.
--
It's been raining again, fat drops splatting on the restaurant parking lot. Joanna is wearing heels again, laughing and holding his arm for balance as they weave their way around the puddles, huddling under the same umbrella.
She loves the rain. He could take it or leave it himself but she loves the rain, loves the water and the sound of it, the smell of the ground after a shower, the peace it imposes on the world.
There's no one in the world but them, just now.
"Joanna," he says, "let me kiss you," and bends to her upturned mouth.
