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[Theatrical Muse] Response
Dec. 21st, 2006 12:28 am What is your worst quality as a significant other?
“Oh please, James.” Sarah Jane was pleading. “I really can’t.”
She blinked back the sudden droplets of water that were threatening to spill from her eyes, watching as the man kneeling in front of her slowly closes the black ring box, hiding the diamond ring. The hurt and rejection was clear in his demeanour – the bent head, the slumped shoulders. She could only imagine the pain in his eyes right now, especially after he flinches when she places a hand on his shoulder.
James was a pleasant sort of fellow, a journalist for the London Times she had met on one of her assignments for Planet Three. Tall and brown eyed and haired, with a strapping look to him, Sarah found a like mind in the man. He too was idealistic and loved the hunt to expose the truth of the matter. James became a wonderful friend, and a few months later, something more. But she never expected this, not ever.
“I’m so sorry, James. I just, oh, I’m not the sort of woman you want.”
Finally, he looked up at her, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. “And why’s that, Sarah?”
“It’s…oh, it’s just too complicated to explain.”
She winced, taking a deep breath. It hurt to think about it, to think about the past in this context. But James deserved something more from her than just a no.
She ran a hand through her hair, taking a few steps away. By now, he had stood up, leaning against her door and watching her. Sarah sighed for a moment; it had been nearly fifteen years now since they had said goodbye, and she still hadn’t forgotten him. She took a seat in a nearby chair, crossed her legs and fiddled with a ring, hands resting in her lap.
“Oh James, I really do care for you.” Maybe even loved him, in some way. “But, there was this man once – a rather extraordinary man – and I fear that I have never truly gotten over him. You’re wonderful, but trust me James; I’m not your girl.”
James nodded with a frown. He disapproved, she knew. But those sorts of things had never bothered her, not Sarah Jane the feminist. “What happened to him?”
“He had somewhere else to be,” Sarah answered softly. “Some things just don’t work out in the end.”
“Like us,” he said; a statement and not a question.
She winced again and nodded. He could never understand everything she had seen, and why some infatuations simply would never go away. Oh, it could all be so difficult sometimes. Oh so very difficult and not at all Sarah’s cup of tea. She stopped fiddling with her ring and placed her hands neatly in her lap before deciding upon getting up and showing James to the door.
“Like us.”
---
Muse: Sarah Jane Smith
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 469
“Oh please, James.” Sarah Jane was pleading. “I really can’t.”
She blinked back the sudden droplets of water that were threatening to spill from her eyes, watching as the man kneeling in front of her slowly closes the black ring box, hiding the diamond ring. The hurt and rejection was clear in his demeanour – the bent head, the slumped shoulders. She could only imagine the pain in his eyes right now, especially after he flinches when she places a hand on his shoulder.
James was a pleasant sort of fellow, a journalist for the London Times she had met on one of her assignments for Planet Three. Tall and brown eyed and haired, with a strapping look to him, Sarah found a like mind in the man. He too was idealistic and loved the hunt to expose the truth of the matter. James became a wonderful friend, and a few months later, something more. But she never expected this, not ever.
“I’m so sorry, James. I just, oh, I’m not the sort of woman you want.”
Finally, he looked up at her, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. “And why’s that, Sarah?”
“It’s…oh, it’s just too complicated to explain.”
She winced, taking a deep breath. It hurt to think about it, to think about the past in this context. But James deserved something more from her than just a no.
She ran a hand through her hair, taking a few steps away. By now, he had stood up, leaning against her door and watching her. Sarah sighed for a moment; it had been nearly fifteen years now since they had said goodbye, and she still hadn’t forgotten him. She took a seat in a nearby chair, crossed her legs and fiddled with a ring, hands resting in her lap.
“Oh James, I really do care for you.” Maybe even loved him, in some way. “But, there was this man once – a rather extraordinary man – and I fear that I have never truly gotten over him. You’re wonderful, but trust me James; I’m not your girl.”
James nodded with a frown. He disapproved, she knew. But those sorts of things had never bothered her, not Sarah Jane the feminist. “What happened to him?”
“He had somewhere else to be,” Sarah answered softly. “Some things just don’t work out in the end.”
“Like us,” he said; a statement and not a question.
She winced again and nodded. He could never understand everything she had seen, and why some infatuations simply would never go away. Oh, it could all be so difficult sometimes. Oh so very difficult and not at all Sarah’s cup of tea. She stopped fiddling with her ring and placed her hands neatly in her lap before deciding upon getting up and showing James to the door.
“Like us.”
---
Muse: Sarah Jane Smith
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 469
