(no subject)

[spysinspades]

[He hadn't seen her in weeks.

He still didn't think the fight was his fault.

That's why he hadn't brought flowers.

He was just being the bigger man. Because it totally wasn't his fault she'd gotten mad.

Totally.

And he totally hadn't hesitated on her front porch, dithering over knocking for half an hour.

Not at all.]

Comments

[needsnomirror]

[With them and their arguments, finding the guilty party was always... difficult. One says or does something barely offensive, the other overreacts, the first picks up on it, and here they go again.

She wouldn't have it any other way, at least on some of those days.

The door swings open, and there she is... a little unsure.]

I hadn't expected you.

[spysinspades]

[He twitches the flowers that he'd not gotten for her.]

You didn't come to my show.

[It sucked when their fights interfered with his shows.]

[needsnomirror]

I thought you might prefer that.

[It's a flat-out lie. That night, she had even gone so far as to get ready, and only called it off at the very last minute, for reasons of stupid pride (and a certain amount of nervousness).]

I saw a recording of it, though.

[She couldn't help herself there.]

Would you like to come in?

[spysinspades]

[His mouth twists, but he doesn't call her on any bullshit.]

Yeah, okay. Sure.

[As he walks in, he pushes the flowers into her hand like he doesn't even care.]

Next time I wouldn't prefer it.

[He'd all but fucked up that one song.]

[needsnomirror]

[The gesture makes her smile nonetheless.]

I'll try not to misjudge you so horribly next time.

[It's hard to tell whether it had been a calculated move in the end or not.]

If you still require a 'next time'.