Did something happen to trigger that? She tends to have a pattern with these things don’t you think?
I ship this.
This would make a very good AU.
Totally love the AU idea…
“He sees her for the first time after returning from war and drops his luggage on the ground. She knows it’s him without even turning around, and a smile plays at her lips.The newspapers that morning had said the war was over, but she didn’t want to allow her heart to believe that he had survived. She didn’t want to hold onto false hope and then become plagued by disappointment. But at that moment, with him standing there in his worn out coat - the coat she gave him before he was deployed - she was glad she did.”
-by beaucoupjolie (my weak-ass attempt at fanfic)
Fuck it! I’m up for a round robin. lol
“Hi.” Fitz’s lips curved in to a smile, a sense of nervousness in his gut at seeing her again. Had she changed? Was she still the same woman that she was when he had left? He had dreamed of her constantly on the front. The softness of her lips. The twinkle in her eyes. How she felt underneath him and the world melted away.
Olivia gave him a shy smile in return, her eyes going down to the floor. She had forgotten how his presence made her feel. Like a giddy school girl instead of a grown woman who had responsibilities and duties. His body came closer to hers and soon she could feel the heat of his body strum into hers. She gazed up to see his blue eyes meet hers.
“Hi.” She answered back as if he had never been away.
There had been no letters while he was away, no half-hoped dreams built together on pen and paper. Instead, there had only been a picture of her, that he’d stolen when she had been distracted by a handful of wildflowers he’d brought for her. She deserved roses, he had thought, thought it again as he stepped closer. Nothing else was worthy of the joy on her face. His hand moved forward, touching just the sleeve of her blouse.
He smells different, was her instant thought. She had never forgotten the quiet scent of his skin, something beyond soap and the worn leather of his jacket. Something wholly him, that clung to his softness and warmth, as she longed to do. Her eyes moved over him, following the trail as her fingers itched to do, but she waited, unsure of what to do, where to step.
His voice was barely a whisper, “Can you leave?” A plea.
Olivia paused, her breath still in the stiff air of the library. The realization of the life she had built without him surrounded her like Patton’s army on the march. She has worked hard to get this job. Hard to become the only black face in a sea of white to be, if not welcomed, then tolerated in the building. And then he appears again and shakes her foundations.
He had blazed a path in her life like Helios going towards the stars, a god of the sun, and everything had seemed a pale shadow after him. When he left it had devastated her. He had said it was for his country. That the enemy had attacked his home and he was not going to be the only able bodied male to skirt his duty to his country. But a part of her knew it was because of his father that he had left for the Navy. That the unspoken had been she was unacceptable in his world and maybe the fires of war would get her out of it. Fitz never talked much of his father when they were together but she knew that Fitzgerald Thomas Grant Jr knew of her. Knew that his son loved a woman not only from the wrong side of the tracks but also the wrong side of the color line. And she knew his father wanted her out of the charmed life Fitz lived where the likes of her were only seen as maids and butlers on his estate. But here Fitz was, in front of her, in this place she had found a niche for herself and she was once again set on fire by his light.
“I don’t…I told Abby…”
“I know. Harrison told me when I went to your apartment. I’m proud of you. This…” He paused as he looked around the books that surrounded them. “…this is great. This is good.”
Olivia felt the cords inside of her chest tighten at the timbre of his voice. The richness of its depth. How could she have forgotten something that made her small hairs on her skin rise in excitement.
“Please say yes. I don’t know what I’ll do if you say no.” Fitz confessed honestly. “I didn’t even unpack. My clothes are still in my car. I’m not even sure I have a home to go to.”
“Haven’t you been back home? You haven’t seen your family?”
“You are my family. And if my parents can’t deal with that then you’ll be my only family.”
It was a simple statement that left Olivia off guard but the sincerity in his face told her he was being honest.
Olivia took in a deep breath, her lungs expanding slowly, and then breathed out just as slow.
The single word wiped away the nervousness he’d felt only a little bit earlier, making his blue eyes suddenly bluer, shimmering with happiness and something more primal, more powerful. His hand on her sleeve skimmed lower, along the delicate bone of her wrist before finding her hand. Her beautiful hand. Slender fingers.
He remembered how reluctant she had been at first to hold his hand, how she had said that others would see it as inappropriate. But finally, on a hot, summer day, after he had won a small stuffed frog for her at the local fair, she had let him take her hand. Her palm had cupped his in return and it had been a day of many firsts.
First kiss, stolen behind the circus tent as the sky began to darken.
First time they’d made love, in her bed after he’d snuck in through her window.
Afterward, when he’d had to leave before he was discovered, the kiss goodbye had left them both breathless and on the walk home, everything sparkled anew.
He had been deployed shortly after. And here they were again. Sliding his fingers through hers with a confidence he had gained from his time away, he turned towards the door but he didn’t lead. Instead, he waited, for her.
Her chin tilted upward ever-so-slightly, not defiant, but sure. The time apart had changed her too. Before, she had been endlessly afraid of public affection, but now, she had grown comfortable with herself. The war hadn’t changed the world, but it had changed what she believed she could expect from it. She moved gracefully, her small feet steady as they led them out of the library. Figuring that he had parked in the small lot behind the library, she maneuvered them towards the tiny alley between the library and the lot.
"Are you still…” the words were caught in her mouth as he pressed her up against the hard brick wall of the alley. Suddenly, suddenly, his hands cupped her face and his mouth descended onto hers, her eyes going wide with surprise before his lips touched her. Though the swiftness of his movements gave away his desire, his mouth was gentle. So gentle that it made her ache inside. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and lifted her arms, sliding them around his neck. The single move was all it took before he kissed her as they both needed, a mixture of greed and sweetness, more love than lust. As he tasted her again, a single word played in his mind.
lazyexceptwhencooking You need the full version! :)
What do you make of Kerry W retweeting things from the Asomugha Foundation? She barely makes a peep or acknowledges him/whatever they are and then randomly rewtweets shit? SO WEIRD?!
Kerry Washington and nose touches.
Y’all don’t miss A THING.
Per the interwebz:
The Nose Touch - In essence, the nose touch gesture is a sophisticated, disguised version of the mouth guard gesture. It may consist of several light rubs below the nose or it may be one quick, almost imperceptible touch. Like the mouth guard gesture, it can be used both by the speaker to disguise his own deceit and by the listener who doubts the speaker’s words.