Delicate

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From: Tumblr
!!Credit to the owners!!
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Warnings: none listed
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word count:1,029
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You met Brendon for the first time at a dive bar in the city that most Broadway actors frequented while he was working on Kinky Boots and you were in another show. The two of you hit it off immediately, sparks flying. You knew he lived out in LA and because you lived in the city you knew nothing could come of your attraction and flirtations. Still, you went to see his performances on your nights off and continued to spend time with him whenever both of your crazy schedules allowed for it. By the time his run with the show was over and he was heading back to LA you still hadn't confessed your feelings. Figuring you'd never cross paths with him again you continued to pine in silence. You did your best to put on a happy face and enjoy his farewell party, knowing in the morning he'd be gone.
As the months passed you continued on with your life, not hearing from Brendon. You knew that would happen but that didn't make it hurt any less. Your heartache and feelings for Brendon got pushed out of your mind, however, when a story broke one morning. The scandal, though completely untrue, rocked you to your core. No matter how you tried to spin it or how many times you denied it, it didn't matter. Your reputation was ruined. You were black listed across the city, which caused you to lose your job in the show you were currently performing in and prevented you from getting any other role you auditioned for.
As the weeks after the scandal broke wore on, you barely left your apartment, only facing the outside world to go to work. You'd started working at one of those tourist diners where the waitstaff dressed as famous people and performed numbers during shifts just to pay the bills. Part of you wanted to just give up and move back home, give up acting all together and get a normal job, but another part of you – a bigger part – wouldn't let you leave, hoping that the scandal would blow over and you'd be back to performing on the big stage instead of on table tops.
On one of your nights off you were sitting at home, watching reruns of your favorite show, enjoying a few glasses of wine – when your phone went off indicating you had a text. You were going to ignore it, knowing the only people who texted you were your family and coworkers asking for shifts to get covered, but something in you told you not to and you were glad you decided to listen to your gut.
I believe you.
You stared at the phone for a few seconds, convinced this was a dream. He hadn't contacted you since he'd left New York and you couldn't fathom why he was contacting you now. Still you smiled at the fact that Brendon had decided to text you. All of the feelings that had retreated into the depths of your mind amidst your current life drama came surging to the forefront. You quickly tapped out a reply.
Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.
The two of you continued to text as the hours wore on and with every glass of wine you drank your confidence grew. Finally, you decided it was now or never, you were going to tell him how you felt.
This ain't for the best. My reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me. I want you. I have since that first night we met and I regret not saying anything before you left but I wasn't sure you felt the same and I knew you were leaving and I didn't think me saying anything would change anything.
You sent the text and immediately became anxious and quickly typed out a second message.
Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate. Is it cool that I said all that? Is it too soon to do this yet? 'Cause I know that it's delicate.
You waited with bated breath for an answer but none came. You cursed yourself for sending the message, knowing you scared him off, and finished off your last glass of wine before deciding to head to bed. You tossed and turned most of the night, your message to Brendon playing itself over and over again in your mind. When you finally fell asleep it wasn't a restful one.
When you woke the next morning you were exhausted, nursing a hangover, and dreading going into work for your shift. You went about your morning routine slower than you normally did and as you were pouring yourself a large cup of coffee there was a knock at your door. You wondered who it could be, your rent was paid on time so you knew it couldn't be your landlord and everyone else you knew in the city had abandoned you when the scandal broke.
You sighed and took a sip of your coffee before going to answer the door, hoping it wasn't a reporter or something. You opened the door and almost dropped your coffee mug in surprise. Brendon was standing there, a travel suitcase next to him, smiling at you looking completely disheveled.
"I got your text and I didn't know how to respond," he said. "But I knew I needed to see you. So I packed a bag and hopped on the first flight out here. I tried to think of what to say the entire way out here but all I can come up with is that I feel the same way. I know that's kind of lame and I could have come up with something way more romantic but I just –"
You cut off his rambling by taking a step forward, grabbing his face in your hands, and kissing him fiercely. As soon as you felt him kiss you back, his hand leaving his bag to grip your waist and pull you closer, you knew nothing else mattered. All that mattered was that you had him.

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