Drabble: Listen
Author's Note: Yup, another spn_30snapshots prompt from table 1 (Elemental). No fandom this time.
***
It was like sitting beside a large cat. The man beside her was solidly asleep--at least enough to snore. She couldn't imagine a more uncomfortable place to sleep though. Not to mention a more uncomfortable position to sleep in.
However, she still sat; her hands clutching her purse into her stomach. The bus certainly lowered people's intimacy thresholds, but that didn't make it any more than a moving metal box stuffed with strangers.
She hovered a hand above her purse though; thinking that if she had been the one to fall asleep on the bus she would want to be woken up. What if the man had an appointment or some such thing that required he get off at his stop the first time rather than after the bus had made two or three loops?
One of the stranger's snores choked him and he finally lifted his head off his shoulder, the slab of which he had been using as a pillow crushed against the cold window pane. The man coughed quietly several times, but that seemed to do nothing to alleviate the irritation his aborted snore incurred. He coughed more strongly into his fist.
She dug into her purse and found the roll of lifesavers she'd had since Christmas. "Would you..." she said over the roar of the bus, his lullaby not more than a minute ago, "would you, uh..."
The guy made a sound like that a dog might make into his palm, his breath blowing against his life line. The window's reflection behind his head rippled and flashed.
She knocked her lifesaver bearing hand against the guy's raised arm just as he lowered his hand, the loud bark having cleared out what trouble the purr-like snoring had caused. The stranger blinked his damp eyes at her, an apology rumbled in his chest, a mutter about a Hell of a cold, and then he spotted the lifesaver.
She brushed aside his thanks. After all, the Titanic hadn't been any more than a moving metal oval stuffed with strangers.
***
It was like sitting beside a large cat. The man beside her was solidly asleep--at least enough to snore. She couldn't imagine a more uncomfortable place to sleep though. Not to mention a more uncomfortable position to sleep in.
However, she still sat; her hands clutching her purse into her stomach. The bus certainly lowered people's intimacy thresholds, but that didn't make it any more than a moving metal box stuffed with strangers.
She hovered a hand above her purse though; thinking that if she had been the one to fall asleep on the bus she would want to be woken up. What if the man had an appointment or some such thing that required he get off at his stop the first time rather than after the bus had made two or three loops?
One of the stranger's snores choked him and he finally lifted his head off his shoulder, the slab of which he had been using as a pillow crushed against the cold window pane. The man coughed quietly several times, but that seemed to do nothing to alleviate the irritation his aborted snore incurred. He coughed more strongly into his fist.
She dug into her purse and found the roll of lifesavers she'd had since Christmas. "Would you..." she said over the roar of the bus, his lullaby not more than a minute ago, "would you, uh..."
The guy made a sound like that a dog might make into his palm, his breath blowing against his life line. The window's reflection behind his head rippled and flashed.
She knocked her lifesaver bearing hand against the guy's raised arm just as he lowered his hand, the loud bark having cleared out what trouble the purr-like snoring had caused. The stranger blinked his damp eyes at her, an apology rumbled in his chest, a mutter about a Hell of a cold, and then he spotted the lifesaver.
She brushed aside his thanks. After all, the Titanic hadn't been any more than a moving metal oval stuffed with strangers.