standstill – the x-files – post- “the truth” – msr – angst
This is my first time posting a fic. Basically, the storyline of Mulder’s depression got me thinking: What if Scully was depressed first? This is the result.
Please be gentle, and if you enjoy what you read, I would absolutely love feedback or maybe even a reblog? Only if the spirit moves ya. Thanks for reading, and special thanks to @storybycorey for her notes.
In the beginning, life consisted of shared hotel rooms in remote locations, secret late-night meetings with old contacts, mid-afternoon lovemaking.
“We made it,” she’d declare, her voice breathless, “We’re still here.“
“As if there was ever any doubt,” I’d reply, even though we both knew better.
I would pin her to the mattress as she giggled and squirmed beneath me before softening into my arms, her curves filling in all my empty places. I spent that entire first year staring into her eyes, memorizing the rhythm of her smooth hips, reading every inch of her body like Braille with my fingertips.