[FM] APRIL - Photo Prompt (Hotel key)
Apr. 26th, 2007 01:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Alva had to sidestep his own suitcase as he walked into his apartment, smiling a little as he did. It had become a mainstay in his home since beginning his investigation of Stars Hollow nearly six weeks before, and in an odd way, it was becoming a symbol of promise...his weekends were a steady routine of a bus ride to Connecticut and a stay at the Dragonfly. Lorelai had even taking to staving his usual room for him since they had started dating.
Well...sort of.
And that both endeared Lorelai to him, and hurt Alva, a fact he ruminated on as he walked over to his liquor cabinet to pull out a decanter of his favorite brandy. Lorelai was too wary of finding someone after all she’d been through, and it broke his heart every time she shied away from some small intimacy between them out of such a raw, deep-seated fear of being hurt or hurting someone else again. At the same time, though, it added a dimension of vulnerability to the glib, impossibly strong woman he was rapidly falling for.
Pouring himself a drink, Alva set the decanter down on the table and wandered over to the table where he’d set his personal mail earlier in th eday, then settled down in a nearby chair to set about the rather distasteful business of opening bills.
He’d just finished reading over the DWP bill when he spotted the thick purple envelope in the stack, complete with sparkly heart stickers and large, loopy handwriting done in neon pink gel pen ink with a return address in Star’s Hollow.
Pleased and curious, Alva opened the envelope after chuckling a little over the very real lipstick print on the seal, complete with “S.W.A.K.” scrawled below it. Inside the envelope was a note, accompanied by a key...an old-fashioned brass affair with a small matching tag he recognized as the one dangling from all room keys at the Dragonfly, this one bearing the number of his usual room. Curious, Alva opened the note to read Lorelai’s bold hand:
You spend so much time here, I’ve officially dedicated your room as The Keel Suite, and this is your key. Only, it’s not really a suite, and that’s not really a room key. It just unlocks this REALLY tacky wardrobe my parents gave me two years ago, because come on...sending the real room key, in the mail? So not a good idea...then how would guests open the room? And even if it was a duplicate, someone could open this adorable envelope and steal it and just walk in on you in the shower or something any time they wanted!
Point is, it’s like a keepsake. The tag on the key is real, so it’s YOUR room. Forever. Whenever you want to come down here...even if it’s more than just on weekends. And it’s my way of saying that I WILL get over myself. I know I’ve been weird about all this, but I’m not usually so neurotic right off the bat. I’m usually like fine wine, I age and get more neurotic over time.
And I miss you. A lot. So I’ll see you this weekend. And I swear that I will make this only one page. Promise.
XOXO,
Lorelai
P.S.: Be honest...is the pink stationery and purple envelope too Easter Parade? Because I also have lime green and electric blue...which do you like best?
P.P.S.: Rory says hi.
P.P.P.S.: Maybe you could come Thursday instead of Friday? No reason...and I swear, NO water bottles to change...maybe...
Super P.S.: I really, really, REALLY do miss you.
Alva couldn’t help but smile, leaning over to set the key on the table between his glass and the decanter, settling back in his chair to read the note again. The truth of the matter was, he missed her as much as she missed him...and the gesture of sending him that key was impulsive, sweet, and rather imaginative on her part.
He was a lucky man...and he wasn’t about to forget that any time soon.
Raising his gaze from the note to the key where it sat on the table, Alva made a mental note to assign Paul to interview the woman speaking in tongues on Thursday. Maybe leaving a day early for the weekend might not be such a bad thing...
Muse: Alva Keel
Fandom: Miracles
Words: 733
Well...sort of.
And that both endeared Lorelai to him, and hurt Alva, a fact he ruminated on as he walked over to his liquor cabinet to pull out a decanter of his favorite brandy. Lorelai was too wary of finding someone after all she’d been through, and it broke his heart every time she shied away from some small intimacy between them out of such a raw, deep-seated fear of being hurt or hurting someone else again. At the same time, though, it added a dimension of vulnerability to the glib, impossibly strong woman he was rapidly falling for.
Pouring himself a drink, Alva set the decanter down on the table and wandered over to the table where he’d set his personal mail earlier in th eday, then settled down in a nearby chair to set about the rather distasteful business of opening bills.
He’d just finished reading over the DWP bill when he spotted the thick purple envelope in the stack, complete with sparkly heart stickers and large, loopy handwriting done in neon pink gel pen ink with a return address in Star’s Hollow.
Pleased and curious, Alva opened the envelope after chuckling a little over the very real lipstick print on the seal, complete with “S.W.A.K.” scrawled below it. Inside the envelope was a note, accompanied by a key...an old-fashioned brass affair with a small matching tag he recognized as the one dangling from all room keys at the Dragonfly, this one bearing the number of his usual room. Curious, Alva opened the note to read Lorelai’s bold hand:
You spend so much time here, I’ve officially dedicated your room as The Keel Suite, and this is your key. Only, it’s not really a suite, and that’s not really a room key. It just unlocks this REALLY tacky wardrobe my parents gave me two years ago, because come on...sending the real room key, in the mail? So not a good idea...then how would guests open the room? And even if it was a duplicate, someone could open this adorable envelope and steal it and just walk in on you in the shower or something any time they wanted!
Point is, it’s like a keepsake. The tag on the key is real, so it’s YOUR room. Forever. Whenever you want to come down here...even if it’s more than just on weekends. And it’s my way of saying that I WILL get over myself. I know I’ve been weird about all this, but I’m not usually so neurotic right off the bat. I’m usually like fine wine, I age and get more neurotic over time.
And I miss you. A lot. So I’ll see you this weekend. And I swear that I will make this only one page. Promise.
XOXO,
Lorelai
P.S.: Be honest...is the pink stationery and purple envelope too Easter Parade? Because I also have lime green and electric blue...which do you like best?
P.P.S.: Rory says hi.
P.P.P.S.: Maybe you could come Thursday instead of Friday? No reason...and I swear, NO water bottles to change...maybe...
Super P.S.: I really, really, REALLY do miss you.
Alva couldn’t help but smile, leaning over to set the key on the table between his glass and the decanter, settling back in his chair to read the note again. The truth of the matter was, he missed her as much as she missed him...and the gesture of sending him that key was impulsive, sweet, and rather imaginative on her part.
He was a lucky man...and he wasn’t about to forget that any time soon.
Raising his gaze from the note to the key where it sat on the table, Alva made a mental note to assign Paul to interview the woman speaking in tongues on Thursday. Maybe leaving a day early for the weekend might not be such a bad thing...
Muse: Alva Keel
Fandom: Miracles
Words: 733
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