Title: All The Time In The World
Summary: She has all the time in the world - but only to mourn.
Original Post Date: 21/03/2007
Author's Notes:written for 50darkfics for the prompt of "author's choice"
She's trembling like a wet leaf after a thunderstorm but he's utterly calm. His eyes smile at her gently as he strokes a soft line down her face, reassuring her.
"It's okay Claire."
She lets a shaky breath escape her lips and feels her muscles clench in anticipation, ready to flee or fight - she doesn't know which.
"I'm scared." She admits. Charlie smiles properly then, his lips tilting upwards into something that looks happy. His eyes betray him now, filling with uncertainty even as he tries to reassure her, to help her relax.
"Yeah. Me too a bit."
A moment of contemplation and then her mouth presses against his in a tentative but unmistakable gesture. He responds in kind, slow and sensual, his fingertips dancing against her skin at the same time.
They both take their time, lingering on each moment like they're something precious to be remembered and treasured forever.
They are.
When she asks him to stop, he does so without question but she still apologises, over and over. "We've got all the time in the world." He waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry."
He's right in a way. But he's also very wrong.
Their time is almost up.
She's trembling like a wet leaf after a thunderstorm but he's utterly calm. His eyes smile at her gently as a trickle of blood finds its way down the side of his face.
"It's okay Claire."
She lets a shaky breath escape her lips and feels her muscles clench in anticipation, ready to flee or fight – she doesn't know which.
"I'm scared." She admits. Charlie smiles properly then, his lips tilting upwards into something that looks happy. His eyes betray him now, filling with sadness and fear, even as he tries to be brave. For her.
"Yeah. Me too a bit."
There is no contemplation as she rushes to kiss him. It's hurried and messy and frantic and she can feel the stubble on his cheeks burning the soft skin on her face and hands but she doesn't care.
They are torn apart roughly, and she is still desperately reaching for him when he is finally finished off with a bullet. She screams out loud as he falls, his face blank with death.
Everything that this man is, that he was, has just disappeared forever. Every smile, tear, touch, raised eyebrow, gesture – is gone.
She realises in an instant that while she thought she had all the time in the world with him she never made any use of it. Every moment that they shared together – even the bad ones – seem infinitely more precious now that they can never be again. With this thought haunting her, she lunges forwards again – they let go of her swiftly so as to avoid a struggle – and cradles his body in her lap with a previously unsurpassed tenderness.
And as her grief slowly lapses from incoherency into hysteria she realises bitterly that really, she still has all the time in the world - but only to mourn.