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Pairing: Geoffrey Chaucer/Wat Falhurst
Warnings: Homosexual themes, though nothing explicit, long paragraphs and big words.
Summary: Geoff observes Wat after an incident, and becomes attracted.
Being drunk does not make you do things. It merely hands you the ability and will to do things that, normally, self-restraint and common sense would prevent. So, naturally, when Wat kissed me after having one too many servings of alcohol, I got curious. I started observing him closely from afar, watching him for any signs of intimate feelings toward me.
Not that I hadn’t ever observed him before. As a writer, I have a natural habit of observing things. Noticing details that not many, if any others would bother to. I always want to experience things that others would take for granted, so that I may write about them with confidence. No, I had observed Wat before, just not as strongly.
I saw the way his fiery hair seemed to gleam in the bright sunlight. How it washed over his forehead when the wind blew across. I noticed how his bright, icy eyes would sometimes darken in annoyance or irritation, and other times they would brighten in anticipation or excitement. I watched his facial expressions, and saw how, even when his face was blank, his eyes always expressed what he was truly feeling.
I had never really found the man to be all that astounding. Actually, I had never really found him to be interesting at all. But now, observing him as I had, I found that he was not only a force to be reckoned with, but also plenty more intriguing than I had first thought.
My first impression was that he only enjoyed “fonging” people, drinking alcohol, attending tournaments, and not much else. However, I soon found that to be untrue. While he did enjoy those things, they were not his only sources of pleasure. I have noticed that he does care very much for his friends, and perhaps other people as well, though I have yet to figure that out for sure. He would do plenty for his precious ones, and he tries to help them out, though considering his lacking vocabulary and non-existent talent for words, it doesn’t always work out the way he wants it to.
As he became aware of my watchfulness upon him, he grew uncertain and, dare I say, nervous under my scrutiny. He didn’t understand why I was staring at him all the time, my azure gaze following his every miniscule movement. And I certainly couldn’t blame him. I suppose that, if I were in the same predicament, I’d be rather unnerved as well. But I found that I couldn’t stop myself. It was like my addiction to gambling. I start, and I simply can’t stop.
As watching him becomes a habit, he grows more uneasy. More anxious. He seeks advice from Kate and Roland, and even William, but they only shake him off, saying “It’s only in your head, Wat. You’re getting paranoid.”
Of course, he wasn’t paranoid. I was staring at him, all the time now. Every chance I get, every single opportunity I see, I study him. No matter what he’s doing. Eating, drinking, sleeping (my personal favorite), and even beating me to a bloody pulp, I simply can’t seem to take my eyes off of him. It is as if he’s pulling me in, and I’m slowly drowning.
After a few weeks, he, apparently, decided to confront me.
“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doin’?”
I blinked. “Hmm?”
His face scrunched slightly. Trying to find a way to word it, I’d say. “Why are you…watchin’ me all the time? You just…stare at me, all day. Why?” He inquired, obviously frustrated at my recent behavior. He didn’t remember the night he kissed me, though I hadn’t expected him to.
I shrugged. “You…fascinate me.”
He glared. “And what is so bloody interestin’ about me that keeps you starin’ all the time?”
I smiled. “Just you in general, I suppose.”
He frowned. “Well…Well, just…jus’ stop it, all right? Stop starin’ at me!”
I just grinned, turned, and walked away.
Another week went by, and I find myself growing increasingly attracted to the fiery-haired man. Dangerously attracted, really. I was not supposed to have these thoughts. Society says it’s wrong, but my body tells me it isn’t. What my brain says and what my body wants is tearing me in half. I’m confused, torn, and, admittedly, in love.
How utterly ironic, yes? I tease and taunt him mercilessly while he beats me to the ground (literally) and yet, I’m in love with him. Strange, being in love with another man…
I hadn’t previously understood Wat. Not at all. I tried, albeit half-heartedly, but was not successful. And, admittedly, I still don’t truly understand the man. I don’t think I ever will. But, really, is it possible to truly understand anyone? I suppose not, but with Wat, it’s even harder.
Yet another week went by. And, earlier that day, I had done something so stupid it doesn’t have a word in any language (existing or not) to describe it.
I had kissed Wat.
Of course, I had turned heels and hauled my sorry little behind out of there before I could see his reaction, so I didn’t know how he took it. I didn’t think I wanted to know, though.
I hadn’t expected the object of my thoughts to enter my tent, albeit slowly and with clear caution. I sat up, and for once, was at a loss for words.
“Uh…” He started. Oh so sophisticated, as is typical of him. I almost smiled.
“Uh…uh, about…about earlier…”
I sighed. Oh but of course this would be tonight’s topic. “What about it?”
“You…well…” He struggled to find the right words. “Why’d you…kiss me?”
I thought about my answer. I, of course, knew exactly why I kissed him. I only had to find the proper way to convey my feelings. Which was a lot harder than one would think, especially when dealing with someone like Wat who, on a normal basis, didn’t understand half of what I said throughout the day. Needless to say, it was becoming increasingly difficult. Normally, words flowed freely and effortlessly from my lips. Not now, however.
“Well…” I was glad when he interrupted me.
He walked forward, sitting on his knees, face only an inch away from mine. “Are you…Do you like me?”
I raised a blonde eyebrow. “Define ‘like’. There are many different types of the word ‘like’, and the definition depends solely on the context in which it is being used.”
“Oh don’t use those pretty words. You know what I mean!” He shouted, frustrated again. I often had this affect on him, and just as often I found it to be quite entertaining.
However, I couldn’t play around with him right now. He was being dead serious, and he was correct in saying that I knew what he meant. I sighed again. “I…well, yes. I do like you. In a way I shouldn’t, but do nonetheless.” I barely kept myself from wincing, expecting a punch from the short-tempered red-head.
What I got what nothing of the sort. Instead, his face took on a thoughtful expression, one seen only rarely with this man. He looked back at me, eyes both questioning and confidant. He didn’t say anything, contrary to what I had expected, but acted.
I smiled slightly, the intimate action not pre-determined and yet pleasurable. I mirrored the gesture eagerly, not knowing if this was to last and therefore savoring it as much as possible.
Nothing else mattered, that night. Only us. Only Wat and me. Just the two of us, and nothing and no one else. Only tomorrow would we worry about how we were to hide it. Only tomorrow would we be concerned about being found out. Only tomorrow would we fret about anything. Tonight, it was just us, and only us. And, personally, I’m fairly certain that neither of us minded.
Current Location: My room
Current Mood: tired
Current Music: That's What you Get - Paramore