[ look ] for your muse to catch mine staring. // @asporcelain / @narrativeplaced.
So long has silence been used as a punishment for Darlene. There’s always this intrinsic need to fill the silence. But she is starting to find that she doesn’t mind sitting quietly with Elinor. In fact, she’s starting to enjoy these quieter moments. When the day is winding down ( or rather when Elinor’s day is winding down ) and they’re curled up on Elinor’s couch or bed, watching TV or reading a book, and not saying much, if anything, at all.
They’re in their usual spots on opposite ends of the couch, legs tangled together beneath a shared blanket, Darlene on her laptop and Elinor watching something on Netflix. Darlene isn’t always comfortable in silence, but she is comfortable in this silence, comfortable sitting here with Elinor, letting her gaze linger on the blonde woman’s face, eyes tracing the curve of the other woman’s jaw, noting the little furls of hair that escaped Elinor’s bun, watching Elinor’s lips move when something happens on the show she’s watching.
It’s a few beats of Elinor staring back at Darlene before she realizes Elinor is looking at her now. Darlene sits upright and blinks herself out of her daze. Elinor is smiling at Darlene, and Darlene would describe the smile as one of knowing, as someone who just caught someone else in the act.
For once in her goddamn life, Darlene doesn’t think she needs to explain herself. She returns Elinor’s smile and rests her head against the couch cushion before her attention flits back to her computer screen.
