(no subject)

[sapphiellie.livejournal.com]

Title: Stolen Glances
Pairing: V/O
Rating: PG-13 for sexual references
Disclaimer: Not true, don’t sue
Beta: razzleslash Love her!
Feedback: Makes me happy



‘Such is life,’ you whisper to yourself. Of all the things you’ve had, you’ve never managed to hold onto anything. This time you want it to be different, but you’re having trouble turning it around.

You watch quietly as he gambols around with the hobbits, all touchy-feely and ‘matey matey’ but you fail to catch the glances he shoots your way. Somehow you always manage to look away and miss them, or maybe he plans it that way so he can study your body language without you catching him.

Whatever it is, you remain in the dark, convinced you haven’t got a shot yet living off the moments your eyes linger on each other more than is normal and the hugs that go on for longer than everyone else’s.

The hints you get when he brushes your leg with his own or when he makes any excuse to touch your face,
‘You’ve got a crumb on your lip’ or ‘Sorry, but that singular strand of hair on your forehead is annoying me’ and he slowly, carefully and tenderly brushes said crumb or hair from you, making the simple act last as long as possible.

But you feel it is foolish to linger on dreams and misunderstood gestures of friendship, for you convince yourself that is what they are.
You can’t see below the surface, you think it is murky, when it is really crystal clear.

If you stop over-analysing the possibility of a relationship into non-existence then maybe you’d see he feels exactly the same. But such is life.

* * * *

‘If only you knew,’ you mumble whilst glancing over to where he is looking down at his hands and playing with his ring in a thoughtful manner. ‘Look up, look up,’ you chant in your head, but Lij jumps you with a cry of ‘Tig!’

Oh great, now you have to pretend you’re happy, all the while thinking of him sitting over there and watching your false joy with a mixed look of confusion, affection and sadness.

Little do you know, he’s thinking of you too, the way you make him feel. He would tell you if he was absolutely sure you felt the same.

You know how you feel, you’re head over heels, can’t stop thinking about him, wake up every morning hard from the dreams he induces in you, forget who you are and how to speak every time you come into contact with him.

You have no doubt you are in love with him but you have every doubt he returns your deep emotions.

You find it hard to ignore the pain you see in his eyes when he looks at you, the longing, but naturally you mistake it for pity and it down-heartens you to think you don’t have a chance.

However, this won’t stop your trying, your endless efforts at discovering his feelings.
After all, you don’t really know the truth, the fact that every move you make, he locks in his memory for a rainy day, every facial expression he keeps to sketch into his notepad later to gaze upon for hours on end, every photo he takes he keeps in pristine condition in a box in his closet.

You don’t know he has similar dreams to you and, to relieve himself from the effects these dreams have on him, he touches himself envisioning it’s your hands mapping his body and causing him to gasp in pleasure.

If you knew all these things you’d make sure he knew about your own feelings and you’d be the most caring, loyal and loving boyfriend ever known to earth. You’d pour all of yourself into making him feel like the gorgeous, fantastic man he is.
You’d be the greatest lover he’s ever experienced and you’d make it better each time. You’d do all these things and more.

You steal another glance and he looks up and catches your line of vision. You hold yourself in his eyes, the line of intensity tangible until you are unceremoniously called back to reality by a call of Dom’s saying ‘Are you playing or what, OB?’

You sigh and turn around.
If only you knew.



Yah..I'm nervous 'cos I haven't written anything in a while. Be gentle...but not too gentle.