a photo collage of Mel King and Frank Langdon from the Pitt. The IKEA cartoons from the instruction manual is in the center.
He should leave it at that. He should leave, period. They’re skating on the edge of a line so thin it might as well be nonexistent, but it’s there. There is a way that this moment ends and nothing much changes between them. There is a way for them to go back to everything being the way it was before, the way it should be. The right way. The safe way. They can go back to being work friends, or whatever it is that they are, and this night can just be a vaguely awkward memory. It starts with him stepping back. It starts with him saying goodnight. It starts with him heading towards the door. It starts with… “Hey, listen to me.” He takes her gently by the chin to coax her to look at him. When she does, when he’s certain she’s listening to him, he says, low and quiet and just for her, “You are easy to love.” Then, because she doesn’t pull away, and because she’s looking up at him in a way that makes something physical and real ache in a part of his chest that’s felt cold and empty for a long time, and because he’s never been very good at impulse control, he kisses her on the cheek.
some assembly required
1/1 | Explicit | 13k |
#kingdon #dangerwrites
🔗 - archiveofourown.org/works/79223656
