Dr. Horrible drabbles
Pairing: Penny/Billy, gen
Rating: PG
Warnings: Vague spoilers.
Summary: Three Dr. Horrible drabbles.
Author's Notes: So, I watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog, and it promptly decided to eat my brain. I wrote these drabbles in an attempt to get it back. Three shorts, 100 words each, not connected at all. They stand alone; don't expect them to work together. ^^
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Horrible Drabbles
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They are more alike than they will ever know: the sting of habitual failure; a childhood spent lonely and disillusioned; a chronic inability to make a relationship last for more than a week. They both want so badly to spark a change in the world, and doors that appeared open have slammed shut so often that their ears never stop ringing from the sound of it.
And yet the differences remain, and these too are more than either will ever guess.
She is the flower that grows from the rain, after all, and he- he has drowned in the flood.
-end-
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His hands smell like rubber, and the tension has gathered along his spine until it feels like knots have been tied in the muscles there. The skin of his right cheekbone is scraped away, and he has not had a full night’s sleep in three weeks.
The distant part of him that still acknowledges such things has realized that Moist is worried; there is still the damp spot on the red fabric of his coat’s shoulder to prove that the comforting hand had lain there not so terribly long before.
Dr. Horrible ignores it. He’s gotten very good at that.
-end-
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The spork shines in the hard fluorescent light, reflecting back the glare. Billy watches it disappear into her mouth, watches as her tongue flicks out, dusky pink, to lick away the yoghurt that has crept onto the handle. He knows he is staring, can’t help that he is staring, hopes that she won’t look away from the clothes drier to notice.
She takes another bite before turning back his way, and he sees in profile that her upper lip has acquired a thin film of white. By the time she faces him again, the slow burn has overtaken his cheeks.
-end-
Rating: PG
Warnings: Vague spoilers.
Summary: Three Dr. Horrible drabbles.
Author's Notes: So, I watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog, and it promptly decided to eat my brain. I wrote these drabbles in an attempt to get it back. Three shorts, 100 words each, not connected at all. They stand alone; don't expect them to work together. ^^
=====
Horrible Drabbles
=====
They are more alike than they will ever know: the sting of habitual failure; a childhood spent lonely and disillusioned; a chronic inability to make a relationship last for more than a week. They both want so badly to spark a change in the world, and doors that appeared open have slammed shut so often that their ears never stop ringing from the sound of it.
And yet the differences remain, and these too are more than either will ever guess.
She is the flower that grows from the rain, after all, and he- he has drowned in the flood.
-end-
=====
His hands smell like rubber, and the tension has gathered along his spine until it feels like knots have been tied in the muscles there. The skin of his right cheekbone is scraped away, and he has not had a full night’s sleep in three weeks.
The distant part of him that still acknowledges such things has realized that Moist is worried; there is still the damp spot on the red fabric of his coat’s shoulder to prove that the comforting hand had lain there not so terribly long before.
Dr. Horrible ignores it. He’s gotten very good at that.
-end-
=====
The spork shines in the hard fluorescent light, reflecting back the glare. Billy watches it disappear into her mouth, watches as her tongue flicks out, dusky pink, to lick away the yoghurt that has crept onto the handle. He knows he is staring, can’t help that he is staring, hopes that she won’t look away from the clothes drier to notice.
She takes another bite before turning back his way, and he sees in profile that her upper lip has acquired a thin film of white. By the time she faces him again, the slow burn has overtaken his cheeks.
-end-