*It was bad decisions and a stroke of luck that brought the two together in the first place. But he wonders what it is that's keeping them together. They aren't even officially boyfriend and fucking girlfriend, and Davey sometimes can't help but wonder what is keeping Emmeline from kicking him out. They've plenty of things in common: they're Muggle-born, they're anti-Ministry, and they both enjoy watching the nightly news. She makes him laugh, he makes her laugh, an the sex is fucking phenomenal. The only thing that worries him is this constant feeling of tension. One wrong move and he's out.
Davey realises that this tension may only exist in the recesses of his mind, and all because she won't call him her fucking boyfriend. He's petty, and he knows it. And yet, he imagines that superficial titles offer some sense of security that laughing at news casters together and snogging in the middle of baking don't. It's fucked.
But as a gust of wind flits through the rooftop sanctuary, it carries the smell of the smoke and fleeting epiphanies. His lips stretch into a dazed smile once more.*
I had to take care of my nan for a week back in Manchester about a month ago. I love my nan but the whole time I felt like a knob because all I wanted to see her. Unless I really have to take a piss she's the first thing I think of when I wake up. I think about her when I shouldn't, and she makes me laugh. She's got a brilliant mind, too. And she's...beautiful and I don't know if I'm just lovesick or in deep like or...fuck.
*It hits him as he looks at the toes of his scuffed Docs, and he's not sure what "it" is but he suddenly feels lighter, and his lips are tugging his mouth into an even bigger smile.*
Yeah, I reckon I love her.
*This confession feels strange on his tongue, but with it comes a feeling of excitement and a silly sensation of boundless opportunity.*
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Date: 2011-04-25 02:56 pm (UTC)*It was bad decisions and a stroke of luck that brought the two together in the first place. But he wonders what it is that's keeping them together. They aren't even officially boyfriend and fucking girlfriend, and Davey sometimes can't help but wonder what is keeping Emmeline from kicking him out. They've plenty of things in common: they're Muggle-born, they're anti-Ministry, and they both enjoy watching the nightly news. She makes him laugh, he makes her laugh, an the sex is fucking phenomenal. The only thing that worries him is this constant feeling of tension. One wrong move and he's out.
Davey realises that this tension may only exist in the recesses of his mind, and all because she won't call him her fucking boyfriend. He's petty, and he knows it. And yet, he imagines that superficial titles offer some sense of security that laughing at news casters together and snogging in the middle of baking don't. It's fucked.
But as a gust of wind flits through the rooftop sanctuary, it carries the smell of the smoke and fleeting epiphanies. His lips stretch into a dazed smile once more.*
I had to take care of my nan for a week back in Manchester about a month ago. I love my nan but the whole time I felt like a knob because all I wanted to see her. Unless I really have to take a piss she's the first thing I think of when I wake up. I think about her when I shouldn't, and she makes me laugh. She's got a brilliant mind, too. And she's...beautiful and I don't know if I'm just lovesick or in deep like or...fuck.
*It hits him as he looks at the toes of his scuffed Docs, and he's not sure what "it" is but he suddenly feels lighter, and his lips are tugging his mouth into an even bigger smile.*
Yeah, I reckon I love her.
*This confession feels strange on his tongue, but with it comes a feeling of excitement and a silly sensation of boundless opportunity.*