Drabble
Well I thought I was going to get some sleep.
Title: Audio
Word Count: 189
Pairing: Havoc/Fury
Summary: Jean Havoc was a very audio-based person.
Jean Havoc was a very audio-based person. He understood his world through sound.
His lips moved as he read, mentally sounding out words and hearing them in his head.
He could tell without looking who was walking up behind him at work, the difference obvious between the Mustang's purposeful stride, Hawkeye's steady clip, Falman's stiff walk, Breda's heavy trot, Edward's mismatched stomping, Alphonse's unmistakable clank, and Cain's quiet, almost mincing steps.
He could tell by the sound of the engine if one of the motor pool cars was going to need work soon, and so pointed out which cars not to use when driving generals to important meetings.
He loved the sound of crunching autumn leaves, winter snows, spring frost, and summer-dry grass.
The sound of his lighter gave him almost as much relief as the cigarette it heralded. And people wondered why his nervous tick was to flick it open and shut.
But the sound Havoc loved most of all was the quiet "tap, tap, clack" of Cain Fury's glasses being folded up and set on the nightstand, and the rustle of sheets as he climbed into bed.
Title: Audio
Word Count: 189
Pairing: Havoc/Fury
Summary: Jean Havoc was a very audio-based person.
Jean Havoc was a very audio-based person. He understood his world through sound.
His lips moved as he read, mentally sounding out words and hearing them in his head.
He could tell without looking who was walking up behind him at work, the difference obvious between the Mustang's purposeful stride, Hawkeye's steady clip, Falman's stiff walk, Breda's heavy trot, Edward's mismatched stomping, Alphonse's unmistakable clank, and Cain's quiet, almost mincing steps.
He could tell by the sound of the engine if one of the motor pool cars was going to need work soon, and so pointed out which cars not to use when driving generals to important meetings.
He loved the sound of crunching autumn leaves, winter snows, spring frost, and summer-dry grass.
The sound of his lighter gave him almost as much relief as the cigarette it heralded. And people wondered why his nervous tick was to flick it open and shut.
But the sound Havoc loved most of all was the quiet "tap, tap, clack" of Cain Fury's glasses being folded up and set on the nightstand, and the rustle of sheets as he climbed into bed.