I wrote these a while ago after watching Penelope for like... the third or fourth time. I decided I wanted to try some drabbles. I may or may not write more of these (prompts gotten from 100_situations Table 5 LJ), but I figured I'd share thee ones I have.
Title is a Sigur Rós song that was in the final scenes of the film. I thought it fit the feel of the drabbles.
Hope you guys like these!
Disclaimer: I don't own Penelope. These were just written for fun.
There was something about the way his hair fell into his eyes, how he tilted his head with a grin that made his lips curve rather than quirk up -- a slow, smooth transition rather than quick and hurried -- that compelled her to smile. He was different than her other suitors had been. More natural. It didn't make much sense.
But she supposed that didn't matter. Max, well... he was Max. He was fun and fresh; such a exhilarating change of pace. He didn't try to be anybody but himself, and that meant more to her than she could ever express.
His fingers traced her face, dusted over her cheeks in reverence. He spent so long dreaming about this moment that he found actually having her here, with him, felt like a sort of fantasy itself. It was like his entire world had been flipped over, and the magical parts of his life had been reality while the normal parts became his dream.
His fingertips find her nose, and it was this part of her that fascinated him the most.
"You're beautiful, you know that?" he murmured against her lips as he leaned down to kiss her. "You've always been beautiful."
He flopped down on the couch next to her, balancing the pizza box on his knees as he propped his feet up on the table. "All that time 'experiencing the life' and you never had pizza?" He grinned at her, eyes sparkling.
"Oh, shut up," she giggled sheepishly, whacking him playfully on the shoulder. "I was doing other things."
"Yeah, like drinking beer and riding motorcycles with Annie," he quipped, opening the box and pulling out a slice of cheese. "You haven't lived until you've had a good slice of pizza." He wafted it in front of her, grin widening.
She should have known he played the piano. The way his hands had slid purposefully over the keys, even if he played the wrong chords, seemed so obvious to her now. He had known what he had been doing.
"Play for me?" she asked softly after they came back from the party, and he glanced at her with a curious smile before settling silently on the bench. His fingers stretched over the keys, and she heard him take a deep breath as he began to play.
His soft melody engulfed the silence, and she felt as though she could fly.
The downpour was sudden and unexpected, and she let out a squeal of surprised delight as the warm summer rain soaked through her clothes and went straight to her skin. She turned to head back to the school after the children, but his hand wrapped itself around her wrist before she could.
"Johnny, it's raining," she laughed as he spun her towards him, settling his other hand just above her waist.
"I know," he replied, smiling that smile of his she loved so much, "but I've always wanted to do this."
With the rain washing over them both, they danced.