Waves

Jun. 19th, 2010 09:30 am
vettac: (Default)
He stood silently on the rocks that jutted out from the shoreline, watching the waves crash against the rocks, spewing foam and churning sand along the beach.

It was early morning, and even the regular joggers had not made their appearance. This was the time that he liked to come, when the morning belonged to him and no one else.

He used to come out here as a child, when his father was still alive. The two of them would wake up early and go downstairs to the kitchen, treading softly so as not to wake his mother. His father would prepare their breakfast to go: apples from the garden, country cheddar cheese cut in bite-sized cubes and wrapped in long pieces of waxed paper, and a thermos filled with water and ice cubes from the freezer. They would whisper and giggle together as they stuffed the food into his father’s fishing bag. Then they’d tiptoe out the back door, and once outside, both of them would burst out into relieved laughter at not being caught.

But his mother had never been a morning person, so she’d never wake up to disapprove of the two of them sneaking out so early in the morning to walk down to the beach.

It had been their special time together.

But one morning, when he was twelve, his father had gotten up earlier than ususal and had not come to wake him up. When he had awoken on his own and gone to his parent’s room, he’d found that his father had already gone.

He rushed to get dressed and hurried out of the house, following the route that the two of them would make every Sunday morning for as long as he could remember.

When he got to their stretch of the beach, there was no one there.

But on the sand was the bag that they always carried with them.

With trembling fingers, he opened the top and found a slip of paper, folded in half with his name on it.

And he knew that his father would not be coming home.

Waves

Jun. 19th, 2010 09:30 am
vettac: (Default)
He stood silently on the rocks that jutted out from the shoreline, watching the waves crash against the rocks, spewing foam and churning sand along the beach.

It was early morning, and even the regular joggers had not made their appearance. This was the time that he liked to come, when the morning belonged to him and no one else.

He used to come out here as a child, when his father was still alive. The two of them would wake up early and go downstairs to the kitchen, treading softly so as not to wake his mother. His father would prepare their breakfast to go: apples from the garden, country cheddar cheese cut in bite-sized cubes and wrapped in long pieces of waxed paper, and a thermos filled with water and ice cubes from the freezer. They would whisper and giggle together as they stuffed the food into his father’s fishing bag. Then they’d tiptoe out the back door, and once outside, both of them would burst out into relieved laughter at not being caught.

But his mother had never been a morning person, so she’d never wake up to disapprove of the two of them sneaking out so early in the morning to walk down to the beach.

It had been their special time together.

But one morning, when he was twelve, his father had gotten up earlier than ususal and had not come to wake him up. When he had awoken on his own and gone to his parent’s room, he’d found that his father had already gone.

He rushed to get dressed and hurried out of the house, following the route that the two of them would make every Sunday morning for as long as he could remember.

When he got to their stretch of the beach, there was no one there.

But on the sand was the bag that they always carried with them.

With trembling fingers, he opened the top and found a slip of paper, folded in half with his name on it.

And he knew that his father would not be coming home.
vettac: (Default)
Joining in the fun started by [livejournal.com profile] bob5fic. I had to cheat a little because I see the actor's name, but cannot remember the title of the movie that I'm thinking of.

Comment and I will give you ten actors and ten actresses. Then post in your Livejournal with your favorite films of theirs.

Timothy Dalton - The Bond movies, I guess
Sean Connery - Hunt for Red October
Kevin Kline - Sophie's Choice
Danny Devito - Throw Momma From the Train
Cho Yun Fat  - Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Javier Bardem - Love in the Time of Cholera
Woody Harrelson - don't really care for him except in Cheers
Philip Seymour Hoffmann - Doubt
Jack Nicholson - everything, but especially Hoffa and As Good As It Gets
Mark Wahlberg - Rock Star

Vanessa Redgrave - Isadora
Sienna Miller - don't really know her
Rosario Dawson - Men In Black II
Michelle Pfeiffer - Scarface, The Age of Innocence, The Russia House
Juliette Binoche - Chocolat
Clare Danes - Brokedown Palace
Lauren Bacall - The Big Sleep
Sigourney Weaver - Avatar
Zhang Ziyi - Memoirs of a Geisha, 2046
Anne Hathaway - The Devil Wears Prada
vettac: (Default)
Joining in the fun started by [livejournal.com profile] bob5fic. I had to cheat a little because I see the actor's name, but cannot remember the title of the movie that I'm thinking of.

Comment and I will give you ten actors and ten actresses. Then post in your Livejournal with your favorite films of theirs.

Timothy Dalton - The Bond movies, I guess
Sean Connery - Hunt for Red October
Kevin Kline - Sophie's Choice
Danny Devito - Throw Momma From the Train
Cho Yun Fat  - Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon
Javier Bardem - Love in the Time of Cholera
Woody Harrelson - don't really care for him except in Cheers
Philip Seymour Hoffmann - Doubt
Jack Nicholson - everything, but especially Hoffa and As Good As It Gets
Mark Wahlberg - Rock Star

Vanessa Redgrave - Isadora
Sienna Miller - don't really know her
Rosario Dawson - Men In Black II
Michelle Pfeiffer - Scarface, The Age of Innocence, The Russia House
Juliette Binoche - Chocolat
Clare Danes - Brokedown Palace
Lauren Bacall - The Big Sleep
Sigourney Weaver - Avatar
Zhang Ziyi - Memoirs of a Geisha, 2046
Anne Hathaway - The Devil Wears Prada
vettac: (Default)
[Fiction] Friday:
Prompts are published each month to give you plenty of notice. Spend at least 5 minutes composing something original based on the theme or challenge. No editing allowed.

June 11th: Include this in your story: “I wish he’d knock on my door instead……..”




I huddle in the corner of the bed with my blanket draped around me. The power had gone out over an hour ago, and none of the hotel staff had come to check on anyone on our floor. Granted, we were on the tenth floor of a hotel in the middle of nowhere on an island at that time of year when not many tourists frequented. But that was no reason not to make sure that the guests were okay.

Okay, Steph, everything is going to be fine. I take a deep breath and pull the blanket closer around me while I wipe the sweat from my brow.

I hear a voice in the hallway and I perk my ears to listen.

Someone is knocking at the room adjacent to mine and calling out in a deep male voice.

“Hello, is anyone in there? Is everything okay?”

Obviously, no one is there, but he continues to knock, waiting for a response.

I wish he’d knock on my door instead, because I would certainly not keep him waiting. I am so ready to leave this place.
vettac: (Default)
[Fiction] Friday:
Prompts are published each month to give you plenty of notice. Spend at least 5 minutes composing something original based on the theme or challenge. No editing allowed.

June 11th: Include this in your story: “I wish he’d knock on my door instead……..”




I huddle in the corner of the bed with my blanket draped around me. The power had gone out over an hour ago, and none of the hotel staff had come to check on anyone on our floor. Granted, we were on the tenth floor of a hotel in the middle of nowhere on an island at that time of year when not many tourists frequented. But that was no reason not to make sure that the guests were okay.

Okay, Steph, everything is going to be fine. I take a deep breath and pull the blanket closer around me while I wipe the sweat from my brow.

I hear a voice in the hallway and I perk my ears to listen.

Someone is knocking at the room adjacent to mine and calling out in a deep male voice.

“Hello, is anyone in there? Is everything okay?”

Obviously, no one is there, but he continues to knock, waiting for a response.

I wish he’d knock on my door instead, because I would certainly not keep him waiting. I am so ready to leave this place.
vettac: (Default)
Silent Blues

Been far away for far too long
So far away, so far away


The bullet slammed into his shoulder, and he struggled to hold onto his Jericho as the pain blindsided him. He fired off rounds with the gun in his left hand, until all three gunmen lay dead on the pavement.

He slumped against the building, sliding down until his bottom hit the ground, breathing heavily as he waited for the pain to subside. He had not planned on coming so close to dying today. But, at least he could say that he had achieved his goal.

As he gazed over at the three bodies, an overwhelming exhaustion washing over him. He was coming to the realization that the chains he had built around his heart was not as strong as he had thought; a certain purple-haired femme fatale held the key.

The first time it occurred to him was when he had walked into the Glowing Sun to see her sitting on that bar stool, legs crossed as the hem of her dress rode up suggestively, showing a smooth pale thigh. It wasn't the first time it occurred to him that she was beautiful.

And he just could not erase the memory of the pain he had so callously caused her. He was seriously fucked up, he knew.

His eyes were starting to glaze over from the loss of blood leaking from his shoulder and the thin stream of liquid that trickled down his face. He blinked rapidly against the burning in his eyes and he looked up, seeing not the electric wires traversing across the city, but the lush green of trees on a windy day, someplace in the time of his past.

For a fleeting moment, he thought about how easy it would be to just let it all end here and now.

Is this all that's left? He laughed mirthlessly at what the authorities would think when they found the infamous Spike Spiegel, dead in an alleyway by his own hand. What a fitting end to an otherwise stellar life of crime.

Her image had come to his mind many times in the past six months; the sheen of dark hair brushing across a soft, pale cheek, her face displaying a wistful innocence that she kept hidden unless she was alone, smoking or staring out the porthole into space.

That was the image that appeared before he blacked out; it was that image that prompted him to call Ronald at the Glowing Sun before everything went dark.

***

"Spike!"

Faye shoots up in bed as she is jolted awake. She looks around blindly for Spike until she realizes that it had been just a dream, more like a nightmare. She tries to recall exactly what had happened before she woke up but all she can remember is a hazy dark scene, with dead bodies strewn across the ground, and one of the bodies was Spike's.

But the most disturbing part, the part that bothers her the most, was that the bullet through his brain had been put there by the gun in his hand.

She doesn't know how she knows, but she does. It's as though she can see inside of him, hear his thoughts, feel his guilt.

She swings her feet to the floor, standing in place for several minutes as she tries to shake off the feeling of unease.

"Spike," she whispers. "Where are you?"

She lays down again and presses her cheek against the pillow, and she closes her eyes against the tears, wondering if she can find some way for it not to hurt so much.

***

As consciousness returned, the muffled sound of voices drifted to his ears and he opened his eyes. Then he became aware of two things: the light hurt like hell, and he had a blinding headache that made him want to puke. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to identity of the voices speaking softly in the room.

"… lost a lot of blood … blood type … O negative … two ccs …"

"Where - find … ambushed …"

The smell of ether and the beep of machinery told him that he was probably in hospital.

Here we go again.

The flicker of a smile flashed across his mind, but his heart sank as he realized that he had cheated death yet again. He was finding it hard to remember what had been his last thought before he blacked out.

I - I can't - goddamn it – why can't I remember?

He struggled to open his eyes again, focused on the blurry figures near the bed instead of the pain that was nearly splitting his skull apart. He lifted an arm to rub his head, but was stopped short by the device pinning his arm to the bed.

At the rustling of the sheet, the voices stopped, realizing that he was awake. He could see one of the figures moving towards the bed, accompanied by the smell of flowers.

Faye.
vettac: (Default)
Silent Blues

Been far away for far too long
So far away, so far away


The bullet slammed into his shoulder, and he struggled to hold onto his Jericho as the pain blindsided him. He fired off rounds with the gun in his left hand, until all three gunmen lay dead on the pavement.

He slumped against the building, sliding down until his bottom hit the ground, breathing heavily as he waited for the pain to subside. He had not planned on coming so close to dying today. But, at least he could say that he had achieved his goal.

As he gazed over at the three bodies, an overwhelming exhaustion washing over him. He was coming to the realization that the chains he had built around his heart was not as strong as he had thought; a certain purple-haired femme fatale held the key.

The first time it occurred to him was when he had walked into the Glowing Sun to see her sitting on that bar stool, legs crossed as the hem of her dress rode up suggestively, showing a smooth pale thigh. It wasn't the first time it occurred to him that she was beautiful.

And he just could not erase the memory of the pain he had so callously caused her. He was seriously fucked up, he knew.

His eyes were starting to glaze over from the loss of blood leaking from his shoulder and the thin stream of liquid that trickled down his face. He blinked rapidly against the burning in his eyes and he looked up, seeing not the electric wires traversing across the city, but the lush green of trees on a windy day, someplace in the time of his past.

For a fleeting moment, he thought about how easy it would be to just let it all end here and now.

Is this all that's left? He laughed mirthlessly at what the authorities would think when they found the infamous Spike Spiegel, dead in an alleyway by his own hand. What a fitting end to an otherwise stellar life of crime.

Her image had come to his mind many times in the past six months; the sheen of dark hair brushing across a soft, pale cheek, her face displaying a wistful innocence that she kept hidden unless she was alone, smoking or staring out the porthole into space.

That was the image that appeared before he blacked out; it was that image that prompted him to call Ronald at the Glowing Sun before everything went dark.

***

"Spike!"

Faye shoots up in bed as she is jolted awake. She looks around blindly for Spike until she realizes that it had been just a dream, more like a nightmare. She tries to recall exactly what had happened before she woke up but all she can remember is a hazy dark scene, with dead bodies strewn across the ground, and one of the bodies was Spike's.

But the most disturbing part, the part that bothers her the most, was that the bullet through his brain had been put there by the gun in his hand.

She doesn't know how she knows, but she does. It's as though she can see inside of him, hear his thoughts, feel his guilt.

She swings her feet to the floor, standing in place for several minutes as she tries to shake off the feeling of unease.

"Spike," she whispers. "Where are you?"

She lays down again and presses her cheek against the pillow, and she closes her eyes against the tears, wondering if she can find some way for it not to hurt so much.

***

As consciousness returned, the muffled sound of voices drifted to his ears and he opened his eyes. Then he became aware of two things: the light hurt like hell, and he had a blinding headache that made him want to puke. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to identity of the voices speaking softly in the room.

"… lost a lot of blood … blood type … O negative … two ccs …"

"Where - find … ambushed …"

The smell of ether and the beep of machinery told him that he was probably in hospital.

Here we go again.

The flicker of a smile flashed across his mind, but his heart sank as he realized that he had cheated death yet again. He was finding it hard to remember what had been his last thought before he blacked out.

I - I can't - goddamn it – why can't I remember?

He struggled to open his eyes again, focused on the blurry figures near the bed instead of the pain that was nearly splitting his skull apart. He lifted an arm to rub his head, but was stopped short by the device pinning his arm to the bed.

At the rustling of the sheet, the voices stopped, realizing that he was awake. He could see one of the figures moving towards the bed, accompanied by the smell of flowers.

Faye.
vettac: (Default)
Entry #3 in the fayeandspike drabble challenge.

It's okay in the day I'm staying busy
Tied up enough so I don't have to wonder where is he
Got so sick of crying

His face in my dreams seizes my guts
He floods me with dread
Soaked in soul
He swims in my eyes by the bed


Faye leaned against the wall of the porthole and pressed her forehead on the glass, staring out into space. The glass was cold on her skin.

The scenario was so achingly familiar; idiot goes out, either for a bounty or just for a night alone, away from the Jet's grumbling or her "whining complaints," as he liked to remind her.

Jet was in the plant room amusing himself with tending his little trees. It was what he always did when Spike went out, because he didn't want her to see how worried he was.

All men are idiots, she thought, so transparent.

She held no such illusions or pretenses that she was not afraid for him.

She worried because Spike didn't and Jet said he wouldn't.

Spike's face appeared before her, reflected in the glass. For a split second, Faye thought that his ship had crashed, leaving his lifeless body to float through space, heading home to the Bebop.

She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten before she opened them again.

His face was gone.

Instead of feeling relief, her nerves splintered into shredded pieces of frayed ribbons, and she turned away from the window, looking around for something, anything to occupy herself with until he came home.
vettac: (Default)
Entry #3 in the fayeandspike drabble challenge.

It's okay in the day I'm staying busy
Tied up enough so I don't have to wonder where is he
Got so sick of crying

His face in my dreams seizes my guts
He floods me with dread
Soaked in soul
He swims in my eyes by the bed


Faye leaned against the wall of the porthole and pressed her forehead on the glass, staring out into space. The glass was cold on her skin.

The scenario was so achingly familiar; idiot goes out, either for a bounty or just for a night alone, away from the Jet's grumbling or her "whining complaints," as he liked to remind her.

Jet was in the plant room amusing himself with tending his little trees. It was what he always did when Spike went out, because he didn't want her to see how worried he was.

All men are idiots, she thought, so transparent.

She held no such illusions or pretenses that she was not afraid for him.

She worried because Spike didn't and Jet said he wouldn't.

Spike's face appeared before her, reflected in the glass. For a split second, Faye thought that his ship had crashed, leaving his lifeless body to float through space, heading home to the Bebop.

She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten before she opened them again.

His face was gone.

Instead of feeling relief, her nerves splintered into shredded pieces of frayed ribbons, and she turned away from the window, looking around for something, anything to occupy herself with until he came home.
vettac: (lonely)
Here's my second entry (more Faye bashing) in the the fayeandspike drabble challenge - my first attempt at first person POV.

***
No one should fear what they cannot see,
And no ones to blame it's just hypocrisy,
It's written in your eyes,
And how I despise myself.
But you can't deny how I feel,
And you can't decide for me.


Spike and I are sitting on the couch in front of the vidscreen, watching the communiqué that Ed sent us about a potential bounty. I'm trying to look casual but the truth is, his proximity makes me nervous. We need to work out a plan on the best way to bring down this guy. As usual, Spike wants to go in with guns blazing.

As he talks about his game plan (the only time he every really says more than a sentence), I watch his eyes, how they seem to light up with every aggressive action that he outlines.

"What?"

Startled, my eyes refocus and I find him staring at me. I know that I am blushing because his eyes stray down my face, from my chin and back up to my eyes.

"Nothing." I shake my head and turn back at the vidscreen. I'm praying that he didn't catch the emotion that must have leaked out onto my face.

I glance back at him, and my heart drops like a stone in my chest.

I know that he dislikes me, but I never realized just how much until I look at him. He is eyeing me with such intensity that I can almost feel the hatred burning my skin.

So, he had noticed something. It's more than obvious that he doesn't feel the same way.

I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole so he can't see just how much his look crushes me. Instead, I swallow back the tears.

Now I'm furious.

I stare him down defiantly until he is the one who is forced to look away.
vettac: (lonely)
Here's my second entry (more Faye bashing) in the the fayeandspike drabble challenge - my first attempt at first person POV.

***
No one should fear what they cannot see,
And no ones to blame it's just hypocrisy,
It's written in your eyes,
And how I despise myself.
But you can't deny how I feel,
And you can't decide for me.


Spike and I are sitting on the couch in front of the vidscreen, watching the communiqué that Ed sent us about a potential bounty. I'm trying to look casual but the truth is, his proximity makes me nervous. We need to work out a plan on the best way to bring down this guy. As usual, Spike wants to go in with guns blazing.

As he talks about his game plan (the only time he every really says more than a sentence), I watch his eyes, how they seem to light up with every aggressive action that he outlines.

"What?"

Startled, my eyes refocus and I find him staring at me. I know that I am blushing because his eyes stray down my face, from my chin and back up to my eyes.

"Nothing." I shake my head and turn back at the vidscreen. I'm praying that he didn't catch the emotion that must have leaked out onto my face.

I glance back at him, and my heart drops like a stone in my chest.

I know that he dislikes me, but I never realized just how much until I look at him. He is eyeing me with such intensity that I can almost feel the hatred burning my skin.

So, he had noticed something. It's more than obvious that he doesn't feel the same way.

I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole so he can't see just how much his look crushes me. Instead, I swallow back the tears.

Now I'm furious.

I stare him down defiantly until he is the one who is forced to look away.
vettac: (Default)

Here's my first entry. I figure I may as well start posting, because some of the others might be a little ... late.
 

Nerina Pallot - Lyrics from Sofia

And now I walk these streets like a stranger in my home town,
Learn the language, form the words when I speak.
But he changed me, I’m his ghost since he came around
Now I count the hours, and the days and the weeks…..
In passion and silence,
Every word, every line a measure
It’s the science of the soul.

***

Faye stood in front of the mirror, examining her eyes.

Did they look different, she wondered? She looked closer for any hint of the hurt that she felt inside.

The day he left, these same eyes had cried for him, real tears, plump and wet, rolling down her face like some little girl crying for her mother.

But Faye didn’t have a mother, and her home was gone, long gone.

They were all she had.

And now, looking at those same eyes, she remembered the way his had looked, when he’d stuck his face closer to her than it had ever been before, in all the months that they had shared ship space.

Her heart was breaking, and all he could say was that he couldn’t see, couldn’t see her, couldn’t see anything but the past he had before them.

Faye never cried for anyone, but she cried for him.

You went away just when I needed you.

vettac: (Default)

Here's my first entry. I figure I may as well start posting, because some of the others might be a little ... late.
 

Nerina Pallot - Lyrics from Sofia

And now I walk these streets like a stranger in my home town,
Learn the language, form the words when I speak.
But he changed me, I’m his ghost since he came around
Now I count the hours, and the days and the weeks…..
In passion and silence,
Every word, every line a measure
It’s the science of the soul.

***

Faye stood in front of the mirror, examining her eyes.

Did they look different, she wondered? She looked closer for any hint of the hurt that she felt inside.

The day he left, these same eyes had cried for him, real tears, plump and wet, rolling down her face like some little girl crying for her mother.

But Faye didn’t have a mother, and her home was gone, long gone.

They were all she had.

And now, looking at those same eyes, she remembered the way his had looked, when he’d stuck his face closer to her than it had ever been before, in all the months that they had shared ship space.

Her heart was breaking, and all he could say was that he couldn’t see, couldn’t see her, couldn’t see anything but the past he had before them.

Faye never cried for anyone, but she cried for him.

You went away just when I needed you.

vettac: (Default)
I have never done one of these. Idea yanked from [livejournal.com profile] sidewalksg and [livejournal.com profile] bob5fic   who snagged it from [livejournal.com profile] sing_song_sung.

Post a line from each WIP you have. No context, no explanations.

1.
She doesn’t know how she knows, but she does. It's as though she can see inside of him, hear his thoughts, feel his guilt.

2.

His thin lips were curled into a half grin. "Good. Lose and I'll wipe more woolongs from your card."

3.
“Nureyon, here is what I require of you. You will be ready to flare up in the morning. An AF2S2 ship will be prepared for your departure. Further instructions concerning the journey will await you in the morning.”

4.
Rosa pushed her plate away and clasped her hands together. Watching her, Greta tensed. Even though Rosa had reassured her that nothing was wrong, she had lived around Rosa for her entire life, and she could always tell when Rosa was about the share some bad news or was preparing to give her a lecture.
This looked like one of those times.

5.
He slowed the pace to a gallop and watched the hawks circle overhead, waiting out their latest prey. His stomach grumbled insistently, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He turned the horse around and headed back to the ranch, as the calming sounds of the morning ride faded away with each step.
vettac: (Default)
I have never done one of these. Idea yanked from [livejournal.com profile] sidewalksg and [livejournal.com profile] bob5fic   who snagged it from [livejournal.com profile] sing_song_sung.

Post a line from each WIP you have. No context, no explanations.

1.
She doesn’t know how she knows, but she does. It's as though she can see inside of him, hear his thoughts, feel his guilt.

2.

His thin lips were curled into a half grin. "Good. Lose and I'll wipe more woolongs from your card."

3.
“Nureyon, here is what I require of you. You will be ready to flare up in the morning. An AF2S2 ship will be prepared for your departure. Further instructions concerning the journey will await you in the morning.”

4.
Rosa pushed her plate away and clasped her hands together. Watching her, Greta tensed. Even though Rosa had reassured her that nothing was wrong, she had lived around Rosa for her entire life, and she could always tell when Rosa was about the share some bad news or was preparing to give her a lecture.
This looked like one of those times.

5.
He slowed the pace to a gallop and watched the hawks circle overhead, waiting out their latest prey. His stomach grumbled insistently, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He turned the horse around and headed back to the ranch, as the calming sounds of the morning ride faded away with each step.
vettac: angry (pic#456043)
Written for the Bebop Drabble Challenge at [info]fayeandspike community.

Half a Person

Call me morbid, call me pale
I've spent six years on your trail
Six full years of my life on your trail

And if you have five seconds to spare
Then I'll tell you the story of my life :

She was left behind, and sour
And she wrote to me, equally dour
She said : "In the days when you were
Hopelessly poor
I just liked you more..."



I've got a new life now and I don't even think about you.


He chases away the image of emerald green with fury and blood on his hands.

His eyes are cold and dangerous; he’s not the same person she knew. He’s only half alive and sinking deeper into darkness.

There’s a chick who’s been itching to get in my pants, and I can get laid anytime I want, so I don’t need to think about you.

Restlessness rages through him and he chases the vision away with mindless fucking, empty sex.

But every night, after the fury has died away, the restlessness returns. There is something missing, and he sees no light in the darkness of his life. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot chase away the vision of emerald green.

He is lost without her.
vettac: (contrite)
Written for the Bebop Drabble Challenge at [livejournal.com profile] fayeandspike community.

Well I Wonder

Well I wonder
Do you hear me when you sleep?
I hoarsely cry
Oh ...

Gasping - but somehow still alive
This is the fierce last stand of all I am

Well I wonder
Please keep me in mind
Keep me in mind
Keep me in mind


From the couch, a figure was just sitting up, becoming aware of her presence. He looked at her, his expression hidden by the darkness.

She didn’t need the light to know what expression he chose to hide under the shadow of night.

And because he knew that she loved him, he would look everywhere but in her eyes.

No words were spoken, but he would try to show how much he didn’t care, about her, about himself, about anything. He would say with that expression that he didn’t need her or anyone.

But she knew him well enough to know that it was a lie, because those were the times when he needed her the most.
vettac: (contrite)
Written for the Bebop Drabble Challenge at [livejournal.com profile] fayeandspike community.

Well I Wonder

Well I wonder
Do you hear me when you sleep?
I hoarsely cry
Oh ...

Gasping - but somehow still alive
This is the fierce last stand of all I am

Well I wonder
Please keep me in mind
Keep me in mind
Keep me in mind


From the couch, a figure was just sitting up, becoming aware of her presence. He looked at her, his expression hidden by the darkness.

She didn’t need the light to know what expression he chose to hide under the shadow of night.

And because he knew that she loved him, he would look everywhere but in her eyes.

No words were spoken, but he would try to show how much he didn’t care, about her, about himself, about anything. He would say with that expression that he didn’t need her or anyone.

But she knew him well enough to know that it was a lie, because those were the times when he needed her the most.
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