voicetesting; canon is The Hour

[thisflowerimagines]

Don't expect me to be flattered; I'm not. This is a useless exercise until you find me something to do.

--A story to get into, conspiracies to bring to light, people to coax into telling the truth. That sort of something to do, not your usual nonsense.

Comments

[im_possible]

Freddie.

[It almost sounds like a prayer, an exultation, an offering lifted to the heavens as she curls herself to him, real and warm and whole and not a mess on the front lawn.

Then, in a choked voice:]

But I wouldn't get used to it.

[thisflowerimagines]

What? The part about being all right?

[He pulls her closer, resting his chin on her head.]

Moneypenny, I'm here, you're here, we're both here. We can figure out the rest. And weather it.

[im_possible]

No, the part about me being glad to see you.

[Her eyes are closed tightly, like she's trying to memorize him with all of her other senses: his scent, the sound of his voice, the feel of his long thin arms around her.]

We'll be all right.

[It's meant to be a statement, but her voice cracks at the last syllable, making it a question. We'll be all right?]

[thisflowerimagines]

Oh, is that all. Here I was worried it was something I wasn't already accustomed to.

[Snarky, yes, but there's clear affection behind it.

And then he pulls her even closer, shaking her shoulder gently.]

We'll be all right. I swear it.

[im_possible]

[She nods against his chest, then pulls back, blinking hard a few times to stop her eyes burning from the deadly combination of tears and mascara. Then she reaches up, taking his face in her hands, and pulls him to her for a kiss.

Don't you ever do that to me again, it says. I love you.]

[thisflowerimagines]

[There's a minor bit of flailing before he manages to settle his arms around her. It isn't the first time they've kissed, but it might as well be, for how deeply it moves and thrills him.

He wonders if every kiss will feel like this, if he'll ever grow used to it.

He hopes he never does.

He gathers her close, kissing her like he might breathe her in if he could. I'm sorry. I love you, too.]

[im_possible]

[It isn't until her lungs are screaming for air that she pulls back, a little breathless, flushed, her eyes bright.]

That, maybe, you should expect a lot of.

[thisflowerimagines]

[He gulps down an audible breath, needing a moment to summon his wits back about him. And then he grins.]

And here I thought it'd be me issuing that warning.

[im_possible]

You're not always right, you know.

[thisflowerimagines]

[He raises a hand to his chest and gasps, mock-theatrically.]

Must you remind me?

...Right, so what have I got wrong this time?

[im_possible]

That you're always going to be initiating the kissing. Don't think you've got a monopoly on that.

[thisflowerimagines]

No, but I can certainly try.

[And he leans in and kisses her again, warm, insistent.]

[im_possible]

[Bel wraps her arms around him again, fingers lacing together, holding him close to her, holding him in place. He's not going anywhere if she has anything to say about it. Not to America, not to France, and not where she can't follow.]

[thisflowerimagines]

[He kisses her softly but with a lot of emotion behind it, holding her close. When he draws away, a hand comes up to cup her cheek, his forehead resting against hers.]

Bel Rowley, you are magnificent, and I am never letting you out of my sight again.