![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
an affair at lambeth palace
Dec. 30th, 2011 02:11 am[ continued from here ]
He pulls back when she does, not wanting to come across as overeager or, even worse, overly pushy - and while the desire to one-up her had been more than apparent, it really only ends up going that far. He's never been able to refuse a challenge, subtle or otherwise, and this has proven to be no exception to that rule. In the end, he's going to look back on the moment with little regret, and as she rocks back down onto her heels, he sighs quietly, punctuating the noise with a tiny smile, a small press of lips as he nods appreciatively and steps out of the doorway, out from under the mistletoe, giving himself that minute opportunity to stretch his legs. He'll probably take a seat at some point later, but at the moment, he doesn't mind sticking around.
"And yet," he replies, shrugging casually while the corner of his mouth quirks into a half-grin. Nothing lost, nothing gained - except, perhaps, a little more to her overall mystery.
In most people's eyes, there are mirrors, Effy thinks. Not really windows into the soul, not always, some people more than capable of obscuring that view (and Effy likes, or at least liked, to think of herself as one of them). But there are always mirrors. Pieces of oneself that one can see in that flash of an instant, when an impression is made or a perception changed. But try as she might, pinning down her own reflection in Tyler's eyes is... difficult. Unsure whether she counts as a girl, a ghost, or something else entirely, Effy simply tilts her head, eyes narrowed as she tries to catch a glimpse, but to no avail. Maybe that's okay, she tells herself, prepared to walk through that labyrinth and discover herself in the process, prepared to find him instead, and perhaps, just perhaps, to catch a glimpse of that brother all the while, too.
"I have a boyfriend," she says, her gaze almost proud in that instant. Not of herself, of course. But of Freddie, whose strength may come and go, but lately it feels like it's been better, closer to his grasp, the same boy she's loved before even realizing. Her next words are said without irony. "And I love him."
He pulls back when she does, not wanting to come across as overeager or, even worse, overly pushy - and while the desire to one-up her had been more than apparent, it really only ends up going that far. He's never been able to refuse a challenge, subtle or otherwise, and this has proven to be no exception to that rule. In the end, he's going to look back on the moment with little regret, and as she rocks back down onto her heels, he sighs quietly, punctuating the noise with a tiny smile, a small press of lips as he nods appreciatively and steps out of the doorway, out from under the mistletoe, giving himself that minute opportunity to stretch his legs. He'll probably take a seat at some point later, but at the moment, he doesn't mind sticking around.
"And yet," he replies, shrugging casually while the corner of his mouth quirks into a half-grin. Nothing lost, nothing gained - except, perhaps, a little more to her overall mystery.
In most people's eyes, there are mirrors, Effy thinks. Not really windows into the soul, not always, some people more than capable of obscuring that view (and Effy likes, or at least liked, to think of herself as one of them). But there are always mirrors. Pieces of oneself that one can see in that flash of an instant, when an impression is made or a perception changed. But try as she might, pinning down her own reflection in Tyler's eyes is... difficult. Unsure whether she counts as a girl, a ghost, or something else entirely, Effy simply tilts her head, eyes narrowed as she tries to catch a glimpse, but to no avail. Maybe that's okay, she tells herself, prepared to walk through that labyrinth and discover herself in the process, prepared to find him instead, and perhaps, just perhaps, to catch a glimpse of that brother all the while, too.
"I have a boyfriend," she says, her gaze almost proud in that instant. Not of herself, of course. But of Freddie, whose strength may come and go, but lately it feels like it's been better, closer to his grasp, the same boy she's loved before even realizing. Her next words are said without irony. "And I love him."