[It was so odd that Alex was a woman of so many words that one word could just stop her and sort of just take her out of everything like that. Richard could be monosyllabic sometimes when he was tired or angry (she and Nic once played a drinking game when they were editing an episode and taking a shot for every time Richard simply said the word 'yes' in an interview. The two of them had gotten so drunk they couldn't finish the episode and Alex had a massive headache the next day.) but the tone of his voice spoke so much more than the word did almost every time he said it.
That single word could be an angry 'fuck off' or a sad 'leave me alone' or an annoyed 'shut up Alex.' It could be approving when she tried to be more rational and explain things on the tapes that he'd shown her in the way that he did, and he could be annoying as hell and enigmatic as always, keeping everything close to his chest and using the word as a sort of non-answer to something that she'd asked and he really didn't want to entertain the idea of.
But this yes, this was something different. This yes was the sort of thing that had a promise in it, something that was important and almost sacred. Alex could feel the heavy way that it was a vow, and she couldn't help but wondering if Richard had thought about it before she'd asked him. She wanted to ask him now, but now wasn't the time. No, now was the time for just beaming at him and drawing her thumb over his cheek for a moment before she leaned forward and kissed him very gently.
The gentleness in that kiss was something that was more for him than it was for her, because she knew how he needlessly worried about hurting her since she'd been injured (their rather large fight about him not sleeping in bed with her came to mind) and she didn't want him to think that this was causing her pain when right now, all she felt was happiness. Hell, Alex was the sort of person who poked both her physical and emotional bruises before saying ow, so the smallest brush of her lips against hers wasn't anything.
Pulling back before she kissed him more deeply or ardently (because she expected a protest from him if she did it, and Alex didn't want to ruin this moment with anything approaching a fight. The two of them did it too often, and hell, at least she wasn't bored and complaining right now, right? That was definitely a plus. Her thumb stroked over his cheek again before she spoke:]
I love you, Richard Strand. To hell and back.
[It was her way of saying that she wasn't leaving, and she never would. No matter what ever happened to her, either here or at home, if Thomas Warren did his worst and took her she would never stop fighting to get back to his side. After all, the two of them were at the center of this together.]
no subject
That single word could be an angry 'fuck off' or a sad 'leave me alone' or an annoyed 'shut up Alex.' It could be approving when she tried to be more rational and explain things on the tapes that he'd shown her in the way that he did, and he could be annoying as hell and enigmatic as always, keeping everything close to his chest and using the word as a sort of non-answer to something that she'd asked and he really didn't want to entertain the idea of.
But this yes, this was something different. This yes was the sort of thing that had a promise in it, something that was important and almost sacred. Alex could feel the heavy way that it was a vow, and she couldn't help but wondering if Richard had thought about it before she'd asked him. She wanted to ask him now, but now wasn't the time. No, now was the time for just beaming at him and drawing her thumb over his cheek for a moment before she leaned forward and kissed him very gently.
The gentleness in that kiss was something that was more for him than it was for her, because she knew how he needlessly worried about hurting her since she'd been injured (their rather large fight about him not sleeping in bed with her came to mind) and she didn't want him to think that this was causing her pain when right now, all she felt was happiness. Hell, Alex was the sort of person who poked both her physical and emotional bruises before saying ow, so the smallest brush of her lips against hers wasn't anything.
Pulling back before she kissed him more deeply or ardently (because she expected a protest from him if she did it, and Alex didn't want to ruin this moment with anything approaching a fight. The two of them did it too often, and hell, at least she wasn't bored and complaining right now, right? That was definitely a plus. Her thumb stroked over his cheek again before she spoke:]
I love you, Richard Strand. To hell and back.
[It was her way of saying that she wasn't leaving, and she never would. No matter what ever happened to her, either here or at home, if Thomas Warren did his worst and took her she would never stop fighting to get back to his side. After all, the two of them were at the center of this together.]