deathofmyth: If she had been in love before, then it had been a calculated sort of love. Contained,
If she had been in love before, then it had been a calculated sort of love. Contained, controlled. Manageable. Whatever it was that now consumed her threatened total ruin. Objectively, she knew it. Knew that she should take a scalpel to her heart and cut out the infection. The insidious thing of it was that she had no such desire. Her only desire was for Joan Watson.
“Will you lay waste to me, darling?” she murmured, her hand flattening on the cold pane.
Joan came up behind her, placed a warm hand on the small of Jamie’s back.
“No,” she said quietly, her head now against Jamie’s shoulder, her soft breath tickling Jamie’s ear. “I don’t think I want to do that.”
Jamie turned round, her back to the window. Joan arms dropped to her sides and she stood like a monolith until her features softened and she touched Jamie’s face. Touched her cheeks and the bridge of her nose and the line of her jaw. It was Jamie who stood rigidly, whose words vanished entirely.
art commissioned from the amazing @systemflaw
