theatrical_muse/justprompts: A Bad Rerun
Flashes.
Quick movements of light, of color.
That's all it is, at first.
And then more solid images.
White.
A white dress.
A bouquet of flowers, red, white, and pink in color.
Blue.
Blue, clear water.
Sand.
Chairs, sitting around, on the beach.
People are gathering.
A slight smile on his own lips.
A glimpse of her beautiful smile, the smile that makes his heart almost stand still.
And then his own smile begins to fade away, as he sees the man at her side, all smirks in his tux. One of those patented self-satisfied smirks. Bart hates those beyond anything. But most of all, he thinks he just hates him.
And then... a kiss.
His friend, his comrade, leans toward her, the woman he's certain he loves, and then he can't help it.
He has to walk away.
Head down, tears in his eyes.
Tears they'll never see, because he won't let them.
Even if he never sees her again, he can't let her see him crying.
***
Bart shoots upward in the bed, eyes wide. He breathes heavily, looking around, and then shakes his head, looking down.
"Not again." he mutters. "Not the same damn dream, again."
He's sick of it.
Completely and utterly sick of it.
He can't bear the images, and knows in his heart he could never stand to see the actual thing.
And in this moment, he begins to wonder if he'd be better off running away now.
[ooc: A slightly sadder walk in the verse I like to call Oliver Queen Must Die. The justprompts prompt used here is Nightmare. *pets the poor woobie!Bart*]
Quick movements of light, of color.
That's all it is, at first.
And then more solid images.
White.
A white dress.
A bouquet of flowers, red, white, and pink in color.
Blue.
Blue, clear water.
Sand.
Chairs, sitting around, on the beach.
People are gathering.
A slight smile on his own lips.
A glimpse of her beautiful smile, the smile that makes his heart almost stand still.
And then his own smile begins to fade away, as he sees the man at her side, all smirks in his tux. One of those patented self-satisfied smirks. Bart hates those beyond anything. But most of all, he thinks he just hates him.
And then... a kiss.
His friend, his comrade, leans toward her, the woman he's certain he loves, and then he can't help it.
He has to walk away.
Head down, tears in his eyes.
Tears they'll never see, because he won't let them.
Even if he never sees her again, he can't let her see him crying.
***
Bart shoots upward in the bed, eyes wide. He breathes heavily, looking around, and then shakes his head, looking down.
"Not again." he mutters. "Not the same damn dream, again."
He's sick of it.
Completely and utterly sick of it.
He can't bear the images, and knows in his heart he could never stand to see the actual thing.
And in this moment, he begins to wonder if he'd be better off running away now.
[ooc: A slightly sadder walk in the verse I like to call Oliver Queen Must Die. The justprompts prompt used here is Nightmare. *pets the poor woobie!Bart*]