Work Text:
The clock ticks on and Mellie waits for Paul to come back from work - it's half past two now, so only four hours left, maybe five? She has a job (she knows she has a job), but it always seems to happen on the days she's not living, the yesterdays and tomorrows and last week and next year; the rest of the time, the today and right now, it feels like her life is best spent waiting for Paul, or cooking for Paul, or watching for Paul, or dressing for Paul, or cleaning for Paul, or getting her treatment (to be healthy for Paul).
Another minute, and the hand goes by to two thirty-one; the part of Mellie that trained as a copywriter cannot help but wonder: is it madness, this love she feels?