Work Text
It’s half past twelve when you pull into her driveway, and you put the car in park and turn off the ignition.
She turns to you, nothing more than the moonlight barely illuminating a soft, yet genuine smile. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I had fun,” she says.“There’s no one I would have rather gone with.”Maybe you want her to pick up on the part of that statement that isn’t joking (you have to at least be partially joking, because you have a wife who’s waiting at home for you) because you’re always so scared of making the first move. Rightfully so, considering that ring still around your finger. You shouldn’t even want her in that kind of way. But you do, and you have for as long as you can remember. She’s not really someone you just get over.But when you’re with her, the ring and the wife and the life at home somehow temporarily disappear because she’s the only woman you could ever imagine yourself with and deep down, you know you should be with her. But you’re not, maybe never will be, because you can’t seem to bring yourself to hurt your entire family for the sake of your happiness. And because you still want to believe you’re a decent man, which is getting harder and harder to convince yourself of when she consumes nearly a third of your thoughts these days.She places her hand on your thigh as she leans in to your cheek – her lips just above the corner of your lips, dangerously close, like she’s toeing the line on purpose, maybe – and she lingers, almost as if she’s waiting for you to just take her and kiss her right there. And you want to. This dark car, the night you two just had together, you want to, you could, you really could, she’s right there–But you don’t.So, like every other night before, she pulls away and gets out of the car and you let out a sigh that she doesn’t hear.She wishes you a simple goodnight before turning to go, and you see a trace of disappointment on her face that wasn’t there before and you offer a “sweet dreams” in return.And then you wait, watching her as she walks up to her door, fumbling around in her purse, using the light on her iPhone to find her keys in her purse. You always wait to make sure she gets in safely, and sometimes you wait a little longer than you should, simultaneously wishing she’d come back out and cursing yourself for having those kinds of feelings for her.She really knows how to fuck with your head, doesn’t she?Tonight is one of those nights you wait a little longer. You watch the light go on in her kitchen, then her living room and you really should have kissed her when you had the perfect opportunity. You pound the steering wheel out of frustration because you really should have just done it, dammit.And then as you watch her move around in the kitchen, you wonder if she’s inside thinking the same thing. What if she’s wishing you would finally just go for it, what if she was secretly hoping and wishing that you will finally stop being such a goddamn chicken and just kiss her already?And then a thought creeps into your head that has never made its way there before – what if she thinks she’s the problem? What if she thinks she’s not good enough for you, or that you wouldn’t want her?Oh god no.You really hope she doesn’t think that, because she could never be the problem. Because she’s beautiful and quirky and witty and she’s everything you could ever want, and she’s your best friend, too. And she’ll make you laugh like no other, and then she’ll be the hugest pain in the ass but then she’ll lay her head on your shoulder and you’ll wonder how you can ever be mad at her.You’re out of your car before you even know what you’re doing. She’s still in the kitchen, probably brewing tea before bed like she always does. It doesn’t take long until you’re at her door, and you can’t quite bring yourself to knock yet because oh god you’re really doing this. You contemplate just going back to your car and pretending this never happened and you can’t seem to catch your breath right now and that’s not really helping.But then the door suddenly opens and she’s there and you don’t have a choice anymore.You look into her eyes and there’s no confusion, no question, no hesitation. She knows why you’re there and it’s almost like she can read your mind because she’s watching you now, waiting, just waiting for you to just finally fucking do it.And then you finally do and your hands are in her hair and you don’t even know how they got there but you’re finally kissing her and she’s kissing back too (and you were right about the tea).And she feelssodamngood.Part of you wishes she didn’t, because that’d make it easier to turn around, go home and stop. Because you really shouldn’t be doing this (but then you wonder if you’re really sure that something that feels right could logically be so wrong). But she wants it too, and, hell, who are you to stop her?But then part of you wonders why it took you this long. Because if you had known she was going to make your head spin like this, you probably would have done this sooner.She’s ridiculously out of breath when you part, and she sighs contentedly.“It’s about fucking time,” she whispers and you offer a sheepish grin in return. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.”It’s a good night.(And it has only just begun.)