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the definition of innocence

By:
pesha (pesha)

For:
Rev. Alixtii O'Krul V (Alixtii)

Fandom:
Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles

Pairing:
Thomas Dekker/Summer Glau

Rating:
R

Notes:
I wrote this as a chance to try something new, something different. I really hope I captured what you wanted with your request.

Summary:
Tom's experiences with Summer act as a defining experience for him. Snap-shots of a life in drabbles.

 
definition (def.): (2a): a statement expressing the essential nature of something


Summer Glau is like---like a human definition. She says a lot of things with her face. That sounds stupid but it's true. Summer has this way of looking and I know exactly what she means.

The first time we met, I wasn't expecting her to be so intense, so frustrating, so completely life-altering but she was; she has been, and I'm never going to regret it. I've told myself I won't regret her no matter how things turn out when it ends.

Because it will end. Everything ends. She told me that. As a message. As a warning maybe.


~*~


innocence (def.): (1d) (1) freedom from guile or cunning; (2) lack of worldly experience or sophistication


At the read, I saw Summer smiling and didn't think anything profound. I only wanted to meet her, make her like me enough to make my job easier, and get through the scene.

Then she said hello.

"Hi! I'm---"

"Bright Eyes."

"Tom?"

"You're fresh."

"Not really."

I went for a laugh but it fell flat because of the way she was looking at me. I knew she saw something. Something I didn't want her to see.

"Yes you are. You've still got bright eyes. Innocent. Innocence," she stressed.

She was so certain. I wanted to argue but didn't dare.


~*~


silence (def.): (3) absence of mention


There are things that aren't mentioned. Unmentionable things. Summer told me that. Taught me that and a lot more besides while I began to know who she was and became more familiar with what she saw when she looked at things.

Summer can say a lot silently.

I heard every word she didn't say the first week of shooting.

Every time she didn't say innocent, I heard it through the blush on my cheeks, through the fumbling of my lines, through the awkward brush of my hand against hers when reaching for a prop.

She taught me to hear silence.


~*~


understanding (def.): (2a) the power of comprehending; especially: the capacity to apprehend general relations of particulars; (3c) a mutual agreement not formally entered into but in some degree binding on each side


I had worked with her, listened to her silence, and watched the messages hidden in her looks for so long. I thought I'd never get more than that: half-lessons in wisdom from a woman-girl who looked no older than me except when she looked at me.

Then she said hello again.

"Hey Bright Eyes. Want to get some juice?"

"Juice?"

She nodded seriously, "I want you to respect me in the morning."

I didn't know what to say to that. I settled for a nod, wished I could say something.

She smiled.

Then I realized she could always hear silence.


~*~


flirtation (def.): (3) to come close to reaching or experiencing something ---used with:


Summer brushed against me all the time. Always. Her breasts skimmed my arms as she reached for her script; her hair brushed against my face as she read her lines at my side; her hands flitted across my whole body throughout the day as teasing as butterfly wings in the sun and nobody noticed but me.

She pressed her body full-length to my back –I could feel the softness of her breasts. The tight round of her belly.- as she reached over my head.

"Stop it!"

I turned to face her, wanted to be angry but caught her looking.

"Okay."


~*~


mouth (def.): (1a) the natural opening through which food passes into the body of an animal and which in vertebrates is typically bounded externally by the lips and internally by the pharynx and encloses the tongue, gums, and teeth; (2a): voice, speech


I didn't want her to stop. Not really. I wanted her silence, her looks, her smiles, her touch. Everything she had and more. I wanted it all.

Most especially I wanted to hear it from her mouth because I finally caught on to her looks: she wants my innocence the way I want her definitions. She wanted me.

I wasn't sure why but I knew she did.

I caught her looking and decided to go for it.

"Want to go get a milkshake?"

"Want me to respect you in the morning?"

"I wouldn't care if you didn't."

She smiled.

"Okay."


~*~


desire (def.): (1) to long or hope for: exhibit or feel desire for


I've had sex before. Summer calls me "Bright Eyes" and likes to be on top but I've done it before. Honestly, I'm sure that she knows that but she doesn't mention it, doesn't talk about, doesn't ask about it, and I know it's because for me, she's a definition. For her, I'm innocence.

I think she wants to corrupt me.

The more I want her, the more desperate I am, the more she wants me back.

I think that's a good thing.

I always want her.

I want to breathe her in, drink her up, drown in her. Always. Constantly.


~*~


anticipation (def.): (1b) the act of looking forward; especially: pleasurable expectation


My days were all about her: Summer. She smiled during takes: I know I did well. She laughed: I know she's having a good day. She brushed against me: I won't go home alone tonight.

Every day, every hour I spent with her, I wanted more and more.

"Caught you looking," I teased.

"Not as much as you. You're always looking. I know. Remember: everything ends. You should focus on the scene, Bright Eyes."

"Tonight?"

She smiled but it was different. It wasn't my smile.

"Okay."

I smiled back. I couldn't think anything except: tonight was never going to come.


~*~


experience (def.): (1a) direct observation of or participation in events as a basis of knowledge; (1b): the fact or state of having been affected by or gained knowledge through direct observation or participation


I ran my hand down the firm length of her leg where it was wrapped around my hip; I could still feel the wet heat of her wrapped around me.

"I'll miss you, Bright Eyes."

She said it like she was going somewhere. Like she was leaving.

"Where you going? We've got shooting tomorrow."

She smiled and it said: sadness. I can't do sadness. I let my fingers walk from her ankle to her hip with a smile on my face because I can't do sadness. Her smile didn't change; I let my fingers find the smile I liked best.


~*~


joy (def.): (1a) the emotion evoked by well-being, success, or good fortune or by the prospect of possessing what one desires


The season ended abruptly. The cast got released before the crew.

"Juice?" I asked with a firm smile. I always had to smile firm with her then because she always smiled sadness.

"Not tonight, Tom. I've got some reading to do."

She looked at me and I couldn't hear her silence because all I could hear was my name. In all this time, she'd never said my name. I hadn't known it would feel so amazing.

"Okay."

I let her go, felt only joy, and heard only the sound of my name coming out of her mouth.

Everything ends.

Everything.


~*~


encyclopedia (def.): a work that contains information on all branches of knowledge or treats comprehensively a particular branch of knowledge usually in articles arranged alphabetically often by subject


Season Two saw our return to the set but not her return to me. She calls me "Tom" now and it still feels thrilling even if it means I'm not innocence to her anymore. She is still a definition to me.

I knew it would end. Everything ends. She told me that herself. As a message and a warning.

I look at our relationship as an encyclopedia of life: beginning, middle, end, continuance. Life is an endless circle and we record our experiences as definitions in encyclopedias that begin and end with a single definition.

She smiled at me, "Juice?"


~*~


 Comments

 Left By:
Rev. Alixtii O'Krul V (Alixtii)

At:
2009-01-01 23:25:44

 
Thank you for this! I love how Dekker doesn't quite get Summer, so through his unreliable POV she's instilled with mystery and energy that's fresh and new. Oh, Summer, how do I love thee.


 Left By:
dirty diana (dirty_diana)

At:
2009-01-04 22:44:17

 
This is really pretty. I love the structure, and how everything seems to be a question. I love the mystery of it. Nice!