veronicasleeps (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
veronicasleeps) wrote2011-04-10 10:39 pm
veronicasleeps) wrote2011-04-10 10:39 pm
Entry tags:
Life (Was Supposed To Be), White Collar, Elizabeth
Drabble Series: Life (Was Supposed To Be...)
Pairing: Elizabeth/Peter
Rating: G
Summary: Elizabeth doesn’t look any different from this morning. She feels it though. As if the world has dropped from beneath her feet and left her floundering.
+
Theme: Mirror
Rating:PG-13
Spoilers:None
Warnings:N/A
Wordcount: 100
Elizabeth sags against the sink and watches herself in the mirror. She thinks the lines on her face should be deeper, icebound by shock, but she doesn’t look any different from this morning.
She feels it though. As if the world has dropped from beneath her feet and left her floundering.
“Are you okay?” Neal asks from behind her. Quiet. His reflection doesn’t meet her eyes.
“No,” she says, “No, I’m not okay.” She laughs, bitter. “I should have expected it, really. But…” She closes her eyes and forces herself to turn. “How long have you been fucking my husband?”
Theme: Minor
Rating: G
Spoilers: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Wordcount: 100
It hits her a week later, when she enters her white-cold hotel room. Elizabeth stands frozen in the middle of the doorway, her eyes trained on the copy of Kyle Minor’s ‘In the Devil’s Territory’ that she grabbed from their bookshelf at random when she was finished packing enough clothes to last her a while, and doesn’t move.
She can’t. Can’t move, can’t breathe; she’s here without Peter, without her husband because he’s with Neal, has been with Neal for months already, and it hurts so much she wants to cry.
She doesn’t, though. She just stands there.
Alone.
Theme: Mimic
Rating: G
Spoilers: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Wordcount: 100
For a month it’s as if everything is packed in cotton wool. Not for safe-keeping, not for later use, but for putting it (the tears, the hurt, the anger) away in the attic of her mind and forgetting all about it until she’s ready to throw it out.
She goes to work and plays pretend with herself. Pretends she’s still Elizabeth of Elizabeth-and-Peter not Elizabeth-all-by-herself.
“Something is different about you,” a florist says one day, and Elizabeth thinks, by god, I can finally stop pretending, but then she keeps going, “is it your hair?”
Theme: Minute
Rating: G
Spoilers: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Wordcount: 100
The messages on her voicemail get shorter every day.
The first few were long and rambling apologies, “I can explain,” Peter had started every single one, “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” and Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh because it was such a damn cliché and still so very Peter.
She just barely kept herself from bashing her mobile phone against the wall.
The latest one, forty-two days after she’s left their house in a hurry after walking in on Neal and her husband kissing, is just shy of a minute.
“I’m sorry,” it says. Over and over.
Theme: Middle
Rating: G
Spoilers: N/A
Warnings:N/A
Wordcount: 100
“I don’t want to get divorced,” Peter looks miserable, like he hasn’t slept in weeks (but she doesn’t feel sorry for him), and genuine remorse practically radiates from him.
Elizabeth looks him straight in the eyes and nods at him to continue. She’s not going to make this easy for him. “I—” Peter hesitates, “I love you.”
Her mouth twists into a grimace. “It seems that love isn’t enough, sometimes,” she murmurs, “But I’ll think about it.” She puts down her cutlery, gets up and leaves the busy restaurant.
She can’t compromise on her marriage. It’s too important for that.
+
</ lj cut>
Pairing: Elizabeth/Peter
Rating: G
Summary: Elizabeth doesn’t look any different from this morning. She feels it though. As if the world has dropped from beneath her feet and left her floundering.
+
Theme: Mirror
Rating:PG-13
Spoilers:None
Warnings:N/A
Wordcount: 100
Elizabeth sags against the sink and watches herself in the mirror. She thinks the lines on her face should be deeper, icebound by shock, but she doesn’t look any different from this morning.
She feels it though. As if the world has dropped from beneath her feet and left her floundering.
“Are you okay?” Neal asks from behind her. Quiet. His reflection doesn’t meet her eyes.
“No,” she says, “No, I’m not okay.” She laughs, bitter. “I should have expected it, really. But…” She closes her eyes and forces herself to turn. “How long have you been fucking my husband?”
Theme: Minor
Rating: G
Spoilers: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Wordcount: 100
It hits her a week later, when she enters her white-cold hotel room. Elizabeth stands frozen in the middle of the doorway, her eyes trained on the copy of Kyle Minor’s ‘In the Devil’s Territory’ that she grabbed from their bookshelf at random when she was finished packing enough clothes to last her a while, and doesn’t move.
She can’t. Can’t move, can’t breathe; she’s here without Peter, without her husband because he’s with Neal, has been with Neal for months already, and it hurts so much she wants to cry.
She doesn’t, though. She just stands there.
Alone.
Theme: Mimic
Rating: G
Spoilers: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Wordcount: 100
For a month it’s as if everything is packed in cotton wool. Not for safe-keeping, not for later use, but for putting it (the tears, the hurt, the anger) away in the attic of her mind and forgetting all about it until she’s ready to throw it out.
She goes to work and plays pretend with herself. Pretends she’s still Elizabeth of Elizabeth-and-Peter not Elizabeth-all-by-herself.
“Something is different about you,” a florist says one day, and Elizabeth thinks, by god, I can finally stop pretending, but then she keeps going, “is it your hair?”
Theme: Minute
Rating: G
Spoilers: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Wordcount: 100
The messages on her voicemail get shorter every day.
The first few were long and rambling apologies, “I can explain,” Peter had started every single one, “I didn’t mean for it to happen,” and Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh because it was such a damn cliché and still so very Peter.
She just barely kept herself from bashing her mobile phone against the wall.
The latest one, forty-two days after she’s left their house in a hurry after walking in on Neal and her husband kissing, is just shy of a minute.
“I’m sorry,” it says. Over and over.
Theme: Middle
Rating: G
Spoilers: N/A
Warnings:N/A
Wordcount: 100
“I don’t want to get divorced,” Peter looks miserable, like he hasn’t slept in weeks (but she doesn’t feel sorry for him), and genuine remorse practically radiates from him.
Elizabeth looks him straight in the eyes and nods at him to continue. She’s not going to make this easy for him. “I—” Peter hesitates, “I love you.”
Her mouth twists into a grimace. “It seems that love isn’t enough, sometimes,” she murmurs, “But I’ll think about it.” She puts down her cutlery, gets up and leaves the busy restaurant.
She can’t compromise on her marriage. It’s too important for that.
+
</ lj cut>