i-wish-you-could-smile-at-me-like-that-one-day

2

part one; May 1938 

“No need to be nervous,” Evie chuckled as the red in his face started to drift to his neck, “it’s just me.”

“That’s why I’m nervous, Miss Evie.” He desperately wanted to reach up and scratch the back of his neck but Evie’s hand in his was like a lock to a key. He’d never felt so whole in his life. Brushing his thumb against one of her knuckles, he beamed down at their hands, “Just you is pretty extraordinary to me.”  Harry wished he could bottle up that smile on her face, so unconditionally happy and filled sunshine, and tuck it into his pocket for a rainy day. 

coming to 1dff and tumblr
written by: stilesharrystyles and whimsicalstylesfics 
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I just ran to  to the corner store to get my mom some candy and I smiled at the guy who rang me up and he stopped what he was doing and was like “thank you so much for that” and I was like “for what?” and he was like “for blessing me with a smile like that. You have one of the warmest smiles I’ve ever seen, it just lit up my whole day.” and I was like blushing and stuff and said thank you so much and told him to have a great rest of his evening and stuff and as I was walking out he was like “don’t forget to keep smiling, I think you could make everyone you look at feel happy today.” and omg man it was just the sweetest thing, I wish there were more people like him out there.

M,
You are such a special woman. Some days I look at you with wonder and think about how I could possibly show you how I feel without giving it all away at once. I wish my life didn’t forbid me from truly opening up to you and letting you see the full version of me. The universe is funny in that it consistently brings you into the lives of others at times that seem inappropriate and impossible. I think that’s one of our biggest challenges as human beings; figuring out how to manage these relationships in the face of odds being stacked against us. 

There is something to be said about a woman who brightens every space she enters. That’s how I see you. You never fail to bring a smile to my face and you always keep me on my toes. I love your passion and your intelligence, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. Sometimes it scares me a little when I look into your eyes because I feel like you really let me in to see you. You have so much potential and I really believe that you are going to have such a positive impact on the world. Whether that is through family, work, or friends, I believe in the deepest parts of my heart that you will touch so many people’s souls in amazing ways. I wish I could just tell you that I want that as part of my life as well. Someone is going to be incredibly lucky to call you their partner if that doesn’t one day end up being myself. 
D.

This one's for me

I may come off depressed
But here’s my poem to impress
Grass is greener on the other side they say
Oh well,
The grass here changes color every day
oh how I love it so
But not as much as I love him
I’m the girl chasing the wind
Catch me if you can
Love is what i plan
Tomorrow comes, no doubt
Constant new subjects to talk about
You see
My sky is purple
While yours, I think, blue
Cannot stay in one place
All the exploring i have to do
Wish you were here
Oh wait
Your right there
As I point to a shadow
Which follows me everywhere
Its always been you
You whom I love most
Being the him, dim, wind, and sinned
Their smiles grew uncomfortably grim
But you my lover
Lover of mine I could never forget Showed me this life
Filled with no regret

S,

Why is it you? Why can’t i get you out of my head? I barely know you anymore. Maybe it’s because you were always so sweet to me, without fail. You were never rude, and always could make me laugh, and bring a smile to my face. And seeing you now, after a while, nothing has changed, you still give me butterflies, and I can’t get you off my mind.

I barely see you, but I wish we could change that. Maybe one day we could be more than friends. Please make a move, let me know that you want me like that.

-L

on a bad day (ii)

though she’s never read any studies on it, she swears that dogs can read human emotions and comfort accordingly.

outside, mulder tries to get the charcoal grill to cooperate - though she insists every year that they should just buy a gas grill already, he claims that he’s charmed by the ambience a charcoal grill provides even if he’s made undercooked chicken on that grill too many times - while she sits inside, her pajamas already on, daggoo on her blanketed lap. catching up on the stephen colbert that’s been growing cobwebs in their dvr, she sips a cup of green tea with honey, the autumnal warmth comfortable around her. her book, a patricia highsmith novel, sits strewn alongside her, and she smiles as susan sarandon is announced as the next guest.

though she wishes she could do more to help mulder with dinner, to give back to him in some way, she knows he would refuse her help outright, would tell her to relax because of how infrequently she does just that. however, a part of her feels guilty for not doing more, especially because of how well he’s treated her all day. when she first arrived home, he merely guided her upstairs, let her take off her stale work-clothes, and crawled into bed with her while she cried. soothing her with soft words and his warm hands, he kept her company, made sure she felt safe and loved and secure. they both know how uncomfortably vulnerable grief makes her feel, so he let her know that nothing could hurt her here in their little bedroom of their rural home. thankfully, she managed to fall asleep, and once she was more alert, they went for a long walk together, their hands clasped all the while. he brought their picnic blanket and sat them down in the middle of the field, the grasses far too high, the fall warmth cozy and not over-bearing; they stopped there for maybe an hour or two, just lying on their backs and looking up at the bright blue sky.

“that one looks like a horse,” he said, pointing up at one of the clouds.

even though it didn’t look like a horse, she smiled and nodded anyway.

then, they went inside and watched a vcr of the parent trap, sharing both a bowl of popcorn and a blanket, and after the movie had ended, he went outside to start on their steaks. now, colbert sits down with susan sarandon, and scully’s starting to feel at peace.

mulder opens the front door - just the screen because the weather’s too nice to close both doors - and heads inside, asking, “have you seen that…grill spatula?”

“yes, the technical term,” she jokes, smiling and pausing colbert. “it might be in the second drawer. do you have the grill-pan out? there’s some zucchini we might as well cook up.”

“it’s not out, but i’ll grab it,” he says, taking that spatula out of the drawer. “i’ll chop up the zucchini as well.”

“let me,” she says, letting daggoo off of her lap and standing up.

though he goes to deny her, to say that she should just sit tight while he cooks, he gives her the benefit of his doubts, watches while she takes zucchinis out of the fridge and grabs her favorite cutting board, one shaped like california that was a housewarming gift ages ago from bill. while he pulls out the grill-pan, she starts to chop, asks, “seasoning preference?”

“none,” he says.

then, he hesitates but leans in anyway to kiss her cheek; with a warm smile, she glances toward him, giving a silent thank you for how comforting and accepting he’s been all day. heading back outside, he leaves the grill-pan for her to bring out whenever she’s done chopping. though she still feels her gut wrench ever-so-silently whenever she thinks about the twenty-one years since melissa’s death, she has peace of mind knowing that what missy would’ve wanted most for her is to be happy, to feel fulfilled, and to have each day feel memorable. as she peeks out one of the kitchen-windows and watches mulder finally light the charcoal, she smiles to herself.

this is exactly the life her sister would’ve wanted her to have.

dear 8,

i wish i could have prepared you for this. oh, how things will change. so far, the worst thing in your life has been the death of your grandad. that was one of the hardest things you’ll ever go through, but now when you think about it it doesn’t hurt as much.

right now, people don’t like you because you don’t like the same celebrity as them. i wish you knew what lies ahead, because one day you’re going to face people who don’t like you because you like people who are the same gender as you.

you’re going to have panic attacks over stupid things and cry at the drop of a hat, and you are going to wish that you could escape from the prison that is your skin because nothing feels right anymore. that won’t even be your low point.

and don’t get me wrong, there will be good days. there will be laughter and smiles and pretty girls with beautiful eyes and melodic laughs and there will be days where you blast your music and dance around your bedroom with your older sister like nothing’s ever changed. there will be days when you will be so, so happy that it’s unreal. it won’t all be bad.

i wish i could have prepared you. i wish you could have known that not being able to ask your own father for something was the sign of something more serious.

i’m sorry.

sincerely,

13.