Inspired by the scene that warmed my heart & absolutely wrecked me in BROTHERSONG by TJ KLUNE (ch.23)
‘I got out of bed and went down stairs, following the Christmas music playing on the radio. Judy Garland was singing a cover of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas. I always thought it was the saddest song. I stopped in the entry way to the kitchen...
But it all fell away when I saw my mother dancing with Gavin.
He was still in his sleep shorts. He wore a shirt that was too big for him. He had on pink socks. One sliding all the way down his ankle. The other resting half way up his calf. My mother was in a robe, her hair pulled back, her face make-up free. They had to know I was there, but they didn’t look my way.
“There.” My mother said. “That’s it. Side to side. Shuffle. You don’t need to lift your feet. Listen to the music. Feel the beat. Slow. Slow.”
His hand were on her hips, hers on his shoulders. She laughed.
“There you go. That’s it. Your a natural.”
‘You love him’ Joe whispered in my head.
He swayed with my mother as Judy sang that Someday we’d all be together, if the fates allowed, until then we’d have to muddle through. Somehow...”
i can’t believe thomas really snuck into audrey rose’s room to check she still wanted to marry him the nIGHT BEFORE THEIR ACTUAL WEDDING i love him so much
Ya nadie me quería entonces recurrí a un escape. ¿Drogas? No. ¿Alcohol? Tampoco. Recurrí a páginas llenas de letras que me hacían sentir en casa y creer que a alguien le importaba
i have no idea when i posted last, it has been a while. sorry, but i have been a little sick and unmotivated but alas, i am back with the normal cressworth. i read a post by @ink-insomnia about thomas making a list with absurd things (kissing audrey rose, being a god amongst men) so i made a fic out of it. it is pure fluff, pure ecresswell being dramatic. enjoy!
Audrey Rose has always claimed I am less organised than her. Despite my plans that surprise her in everyday life, I am more scattered. I disagree of course, Audrey Rose may be meticulous in how she leads her life but I am just the same even if she doesn’t realise it. My sporadic ideas are part of my charm. Nonetheless I have devised a plan to help convince my love of her mistake. I shall leave a list of plans on our shared desk, much like she does, in order to show how organised I can be if I tried but I tend to make plans that are open to changes whereas she does not. I also rarely write my plans down but my darling wife loves to sit us down to make plans so she feels comfortable in the knowledge she wont forget an important date.
~
I watch my ridiculous husband write something at our desk, a small smirk playing at his lips meaning only one thing: he is up to something that will only be bad. I roll my eyes and leave the door quickly before he spots me watching him. We had spent the weekend at Thomas’s holiday home, taking a much needed break after one of the longest cases we’ve ever experienced. We were only going to take the weekend off but uncle had decided to take the entire week off so Thomas insisted we do the same. Perhaps that insistence has something to do with what he is writing now.
Sir Isaac walks out of one of the spare rooms, his room as Thomas claims, despite the beast sleeping in our room and pestering us in every room but that one. However, every time I mention that to him he waves me off saying our little baby needs his own space and it’s not his fault he adores us so much he stays with us as much as possible. I smile at the memory of him telling me that he was lying in bed playing with the cat, using one of the many toys he has brought to keep the cat occupied. I had brought up some breakfast for us both, as well as coco for thomas. He gave me a wide smile and came to me as soon as the door opened, taking the tray from me and setting it down, wrapping me in a hug that made sir Isaac jealous enough to start climbing up my leg. He laughed at my scowl and thus began that conversation.
The cat walks alongside me as I set myself down in the kitchen, resuming the book I was reading earlier this morning. We sit in silence until Thomas enters the room, a smirk that only results in problems, one that he is trying to hide from me.
I debated just asking him what he’s done but he would not tell me so easily. Instead I chose to ignore that smirk and ask: “how are you, love?’”
“Perfect darling, how are you, how is the book?” He sits beside me and starts stroking our cat who purrs loudly at the attention.
“I’m well, the book is interesting, mostly, though I am wondering whether I should find another for the night.” my own plan formulates as I begin to stand in order to go to our room and find a new book and peek at what he was writing. He holds my gaze with a knowing look. Of course he knows what I’m going to do, but the question is, will he let me?
To my surprise he does and I make my way upstairs. I place my book on the desk, moving around the papers and finding what could be what he wrote today. It is a list. I bite back a laugh as I begin to read.
