все записи автора Title: I'm learning to balance
Pairing/Characters: Chris/Michelle
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 900
Spoilers: Takes place between Series 1 and Series 2
Summary: Her vision is hazy enough that she knows she's about two drinks past when she should stop, four drinks away from when she will.
Author's Notes: For the Skins Drabblethong '08. [info]fiorie requested Chris/Michelle, and then...this came out.

She's already been at the bar for a couple of hours when she sees him sitting across the room, leaning back and blowing smoke rings up at the ceiling, his hand curled around a pint on the table in front of him. Her vision is hazy enough that she knows she's about two drinks past when she should stop, four drinks away from when she will. She pushes away the hands of Steve...or Dev. Steve? Whatever his name is, his hands are disgusting and clammy on her skin, and she ignores his protests as she walks away to Chris's table.

"Chris."

He looks up. "Hey 'Chelle." He stretches and gestures to the seat next to him. "Have a seat?"

She sits, reaching across the table and grabbing his glass, taking a deep pull before sliding it back into his empty hand still curled to fit its shape. "Thanks."

"Sure, help yourself." He offers her his cigarette and she takes it, balancing it between her fingers and staring at it for a minute, at how it looks between her manicured nails, how Chris must have bit on the end, judging from the slight indentation. She inhales.

Chris is looking down, lighting another for himself in a puff of smoke. She watches how the edges of his face seem to curl with the smoke.

"So, Chris."

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugs. "Dunno. Just making the rounds." He looks up at her, grins. "You?"

"I guess I'm making my own rounds."

He laughs, leaning forward and winking at her. "Lucky place this is, having us both, am I right?"

"Right." She giggles, and it floods her veins. She feels warm, like she's just done a shot. It's been so long since she talked to Chris. Well. Talked to anyone, really.

Chris speaks around his cigarette. "Actually, I'm at a bit of a loose end right now, since the woman I love is currently...well, she's out of the country." He pauses. "Not to say my end is loose, while she's gone. I've been very well behaved."

Michelle blinks, trying to remember. "Chris, are you talking about Angie?"

"That I am."

"She's our teacher."

He sighs. "Not during the summer, she isn't. 'Sides, love knows no teachers or students. Except it does know me and Angie. But we're teacher and student second, right?"

She takes a long drag on the cigarette until the ashes almost burn her fingertips. She stubs it out. "Chris, Angie doesn't love you." He makes a noise at the back of his throat, shaking his head and tracing the condensation on the outside of his glass. "She doesn't. It doesn't work that way."

He's still shaking his head. "Believe what you will."

"Sure, Angie loves you, and Tony's going to wake up any day now." She's said too much, her tongue betraying what she wants, but it's too late and it doesn't matter. She's fucked anyway.

Chris drops his cigarette in his almost empty glass, a dull hiss. "Saw him today."

She traces a circle on the table with her fingertip. "Oh."

"He looked good."

"You don't have to lie, Chris."

"Now, when have you known me to lie?" She gives him a look from under her eyelashes and he grins. "Well, lie 'bout something important. Our boy Tony, he was looking a bit perkier."

"Define perkier."

Chris squints his eyes. "His cheeks had a bit of colour. And he looked bored. Like his dreams aren't good enough anymore.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds like he’s practically himself again.”

Chris lights another cigarette. “Like I said.”

“Chris, could you just stop. Stop…stop talking bollocks for a minute, okay? I feel…I don’t know, I just feel.” She tries to catch her breath.

He watches her for a moment before moving his chair closer to her, the legs scraping against the floor, causing her spine to tingle. He drapes his arm around her back, and she leans into it. He’s warm, and a sweet scent lingers in the air around them.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, Chris. Thanks.” She starts inhaling, evenly.

They sit there for a moment in silence, his arm warm across her shoulders. She pushes her hair out of her eyes.

“Angie does love me.”

Michelle’s shoulders shake from something like laughter. “Did she ever tell you that?”

“Nah, didn’t need to, right, because I just know she does. She doth protest too much, if you know what I mean.”

She looks at his face when he talks, and she feels so heavy, like she’ll never be able to pick herself up again. “When is she coming back?”

“Don’t know. Soon. She can’t resist me for much longer.”

“Maybe she will.” She doesn’t believe it. She hopes he doesn’t really either.

Chris’s knee is shaking next to her own, vibrations traveling up her thigh. “Did he ever tell you?”

She knows what he’s asking, and she leans her head back, turning to look at him for a moment before answering. “I don’t know. Yes. No.”

He squeezes her shoulder. “Ah, he does.”

Michelle closes her eyes. “Fuck.”

And then she kisses him before the tears threaten to close up her throat.



*Title from April by onelinedrawing.



(c) miss-bennie
В колонках играет - Snow Patrol - Somewhere A Clock Is Ticking