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veronicasleepsTitle: Muscle Memory
Author: veronicasleeps
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Neal, (Peter, Elizabeth)
Word count: 200, give or take.
Summary: Some paintings aren't for sale.
Contains: Contains Spoilers for the season finale.
A/N I'm not sure if this works or not. I think I've been tweaking it for too long.
Follows Lingering and Clean Break.
+
“What about these?” The art dealer asks Neal when she rifles through the paintings and drawings in his tiny studio. “These are good. You’ve been drawing them a lot; you keep sketching these two whenever you’re distracted.”
Neal shakes his head. “They aren’t for sale.”
She shoots him a sharp look, “Why not?”
“Because…” Neal hesitates. He doesn’t say ‘because then Peter will find me’ and not ‘because they’re mine’.
“I just can’t,” he says instead. “I can’t.”
He knows that as soon as he picks up a pencil and leads it over paper it’s going to be Peter and Elizabeth staring back at him - the familiar curl of Peter’s smile and the soft curve of Elizabeth’s hair come easy to him by now, as if they’re saved in his muscles just waiting to be let out.
His own art is teasing him with the image of what he’s left behind, of what he wants back but knows that he can’t get.
He thinks, even if he could, they’re going to put him behind bars again for running.
Even if he did go back he’d always remember the conviction in Peter’s voice. (I think you did.)
And he doesn't want to forget that. So he keeps the pictures close.
+
Author: veronicasleeps
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Neal, (Peter, Elizabeth)
Word count: 200, give or take.
Summary: Some paintings aren't for sale.
Contains: Contains Spoilers for the season finale.
A/N I'm not sure if this works or not. I think I've been tweaking it for too long.
Follows Lingering and Clean Break.
+
“What about these?” The art dealer asks Neal when she rifles through the paintings and drawings in his tiny studio. “These are good. You’ve been drawing them a lot; you keep sketching these two whenever you’re distracted.”
Neal shakes his head. “They aren’t for sale.”
She shoots him a sharp look, “Why not?”
“Because…” Neal hesitates. He doesn’t say ‘because then Peter will find me’ and not ‘because they’re mine’.
“I just can’t,” he says instead. “I can’t.”
He knows that as soon as he picks up a pencil and leads it over paper it’s going to be Peter and Elizabeth staring back at him - the familiar curl of Peter’s smile and the soft curve of Elizabeth’s hair come easy to him by now, as if they’re saved in his muscles just waiting to be let out.
His own art is teasing him with the image of what he’s left behind, of what he wants back but knows that he can’t get.
He thinks, even if he could, they’re going to put him behind bars again for running.
Even if he did go back he’d always remember the conviction in Peter’s voice. (I think you did.)
And he doesn't want to forget that. So he keeps the pictures close.
+
