Existing

Times Like This, same energy, PG  ( For the paradox_drabble round 6 postings )

                Skin brushed against skin, delicate touches in the aftermath of frantic gropes.  They mirrored each other perfectly in aura at these moments. 

                His frantic mind, often jumping from thought to thought in an ever advancing fast-forward, was sedate.  Blithely ignoring other stimuli he traced her edges, learning textures as sensations until he would be able to identify her blindly.

~.~.~

                Rushes of heated words would blast through the air, stinging against the abstract self.  Their desire to win drove them even against each other.

                Her mind would race, sorting through the esoteric, flipping this scenario and that until she could form the premise that would shut him down.  She would become so caught up in the disagreement that she would close of from her standard of behavior, reaching for the appropriate formation of words that would be utterly truthful and so well laid out that he could not formulate a defense.  And she would go for the kill.

~.~.~

                His science would be so all important that he could not stop for anything.  The outside world had no bearing.

                He would postulate and write for days when the fervor took him.  There was no stopping for food, or cleanliness, or non-optional social conventions.  He would pace and write utilizing any surface available.  Whiteboards and notebooks, of course; but also napkins, newspaper margins, the backside of pictures.  He would wander the spaces writing on whatever had no print on it.  He even wrote on the walls one day. 

                He would think aloud, never addressing those who surreptitiously cared for him throughout.  They were so far outside the realm he dealt in.  And then he would awake.  To a growling belly and a messy abode.  Notes were scattered everywhere along with the leavings that others had deposited in the hopes he would use them to care for himself.  He never did.

~.~.~

                She had become meticulous in her detail.  Yes, her analysis of script was improving, but it really only showed in her care of others.  She developed routines for nurturing her boys.

                She would have just enough liquor on hand to loosen Raj, without inebriating him.  For he would sometimes need to talk to a non-judgmental ear that the others could not provide.  She grew to have appropriate responses to humor Howard and yet shut him down, divert him, without hurting him.  She even thought through a careful balance with Howard, analyzing the best way to give him the care of a female friend, without encouraging a further romantic entanglement.  Because all he really wanted was a girl in his life, that soft feminine presence.

                But for her man, she had learned to clean to his specifications.  Without ever letting it on.  She just kept at it until he stopped redoing her work.  She knew his routine and would do her best to work with it.  But most of all, she learned to listen enough that he could hold a deeper conversation with her.  She studied him and was awakened to his little ticks, the change in his eyes as he regarded her, the tilt of his head when conversing that spoke to the fact that she was his sole focus.  She knew these little ticks of his so that she could show him that she saw and reciprocated. 

~.~.~

                But the times when they were most in tune, they said nothing and did nothing.  They were in each other’s presence and content.  They were not mirrors of each other to the loss of self, but instead in everyday ways.  You could be in the room with one and feel the effect of the other.  They carried the same energy.

May I just say that Jim Parsons looks as if he would be a sneaky little man in bed?  He looks as if he would start out all nice and romantic but still somewhere in the middle he would flip a switch and master you, own your body, then cuddle you after.  Maybe even bring you a glass of water, cuz he's still sweet like that.

That man is hot.

Years in fact.  I would keep coming back to read this fanfic or that.  I'm currently on a Big Bang Theory trip.  We'll see how long this one lasts.

Okay, So I've decided to create my own prompt table, but as I don't know how to do so professionally I'm going to do it my own ghetto way.

vast	damp
brash	chase
arise	forsaken

vapid	maid
hearth	linen
silver	till

And now I have the need to create a prompt table community, isn't that creepy.

Apparently I went on hiatus, without even knowing it. I had not planned on staying away for so long, but, what happens, happens. I need to get back into the swing of things, catch up on tons of dramione and especially get back into writing. Guess I'll just have to take it as it comes.

So nothing's been going on.  Just working, school, working.  I am actually toying with an idea for a fic, but I can't get it to stick together.  Maybe, maybe not.  It's along the lines of a war fic, with Hr overworking herself and having dreams / out of body exp. / premonitions . . . something along those lines, and depending on which one, will pull in D.  But, I can't get a cohesive grasp so I'll play around for a bit and see.

 Well, I'm here.