#bittersweat

authors note: It is set right before the outbreak, so it's bittersweet. I just love the song Bless the Telephone by Labi Siffre, so I was inspired. I keep deleting my fics, but this one I think I'm gonna keep up.

word count; 750

warnings; Pre-outbreak, Joel's birthday, no physical description of reader, long distance, fluff but really sad when you realise what's happening right after lol, but It's sweet prom!!

song; Bless the Telephone - Labi Siffre (listen if you haven't!!! there's also a Kelis version which is also good)

Business trips weren’t her favourite. Being separated from her family was a foreign feeling, sort of. She worked a lot, but she always came home before the clock struck twelve. She always tucked her girl to bed and kissed her husband good night. But business trips don’t give her that luxury. 

It was just a five-day excursion, but she found herself calling home every chance she got. She was glad Sarah was now old enough to have a phone, so she could stop bombarding Joel with questions about her day. Even though he didn’t mind. Oh, Sweet Joel. It was his birthday this week, yet she wasn’t even there to celebrate it. She tried everything in her power to get out of this trip, yet her boss didn’t budge one bit. 

And as the music fades out, the final notes still bouncing delicately off the wall, there’s a feeling within you that feels like feather-light lead. With the decrescendo of the final stanza, and the release of the final breath, time seems non existent. 

There is only the moment of accepting the final act, the momentous grandeur of accomplishing something so beautiful you’re left almost in tears. And if you weren’t anticipating the addictive feeling of success, those tears would roll down flushed cheeks while your lungs begin to regulate it’s breathing.

And your heart -God, your heart- it feels like a dying bird on it’s last migratory flight. There’s a bitter sweet feeling of love and completion that the performance has come to an end.

In the top of your stomach it feels like butterflies, cliché I know. But that is exactly what it feels like. Similar to when the person you love stares at you with adoration in their eyes, and you get giddy all over.

There is nothing like the final bow, the roar of the spectators, the last exhale, the knowing that hours and hours of practice, frustration and tears paid off. 

Despite a rush off emotions, you feel almost calm, like the silence before the chaos. For me, the minute I step off of the stage my laugh is uncontrollable and I smile until my cheeks cramp up. The atomic rush is addictive, and I need to do it again. I want to get back in front and do it all over, but I know that I can’t right then and there. The next time that I feel the atomic rush will be the next time I perform, and the feeling never gets old.

(more…)

Thinking of you

it's a phrased well used

but thinking of you

isn't simple.

It's 2AM and

I'm thinking of you.

I'm thinking of your smile

and that small dimple in your cheek.

I'm thinking of your laugh,

and how your whole body joins in,

showing the unadulterated joy you're feeling.

I'm thinking of your heart

and how it grows heavy with sadness

for your pain and that you feel for others.

I'm thinking of your anger,

and how sparks fly from your eyes

and lightening shoots from your mouth.

I'm thinking of your jealousy,

how you suspiciously watch the world around you.

I'm thinking of you,

how you wear that scent every day,

because you say it reminds you of happiness,

and how it soaks into every fabric you come in contact with.

I'm always thinking of you,

all of creation bears an imprint of you,

of your touch,

and brings you to mind

with bittersweet accuracy.

I'm thinking of you,

how I miss you,

and how I was too scared

to be free in giving my love.

I'm thinking of you,

I was just too late to say it.