Open your eyes (and surrender) 1.a/?
anonymous
November 3 2010, 18:57:45 UTC
A/N: dear OP, I apologize beforehand for general fail and mistakes and typos and everything that may happen. My attempt is to give you fluff and a bit of angst and reluctant snuggling?? Ohh, Arthur and Alfred, would you make up your minds please?
_______
Open Your Eyes (and surrender)
He had overslept!
Arthur cursed under his breath, simultaneously grabbing his messenger bag with one hand and finishing buckling his belt with the other. Bag secured, tie in place, wallet and cell on his person, Arthur dashed out.
He could not be late. Never be late. It would be preposterous, and Arthur Kirkland did not do preposterous, thank you kindly.
Even if he would have secretly preferred to enjoy a morning of sleeping in, the school president could not afford small luxuries. And once he had made up his mind on something, nothing short of horrid sickness or…
Arthur’s train of thoughts derailed momentarily as he ran out of his bedroom and started running down the flight of creaky stairs.
Hmmm…oh yes, their house had always had the strangest, most wicked sounds going on. Gave his friends the fright of their lives when they came over to study for that test with Mrs. Morrison in 4th grade…
“Love, careful, if you run amuck like so you’ll trip over your own feet. And are you planning to go to school without eating anything?”
Arthur froze at the threshold that connected hall with dinning room.
Oh. Mum. And breakfast.
“I’m running really late” -his voice came out almost unconsciously, a reflex respond.
“I am sure Mrs. Morrison would not mind terribly if you are not the very first student to arrive to the classroom, love” -his mother’s voice drifter over, as her figure wandered from kitchen to table.
Her auburn hair was unbound, and her green eyes were just as Arthur remembered them.
Oh. Mum. And breakfast. And their old house two blocks from his primary school.
Arthur’s eyes drank in the sight of the woman, of her hair and her eyes and the sound of her voice. And for a moment he wanted to take in the rest of the details of the room, but the light coming from the large open window was blindingly bright.
The sunlight washed out every other color.
Arthur stood there, right hand lax on the strap of his messenger bag, left hand on the pocket of his uniform pants. The pants were dark, checkered. And his dress shirt a pristine white under the standard light blue jacket. Standard high school uniform, save for the pin identifying him as senior and member of the students’ council.
“Oh, mum” -he whispered, and he almost spoke out the truth, the undeterred sadly accepted truth, but instead his words were…-“Can we have breakfast just the two of us?”
Tinkling bells, laughter.
“I ought to scold you for that, young boy. You know your brothers will come down soon too. Be a dear and bring the…”
The woman’s words lost themselves into nothingness, her lips moving but no sound coming out, and now even her lips and the rest of her face were being washed out by the invasive light from the window.
Arthur’s eyes squinted, but he knew it was futile. He was losing the thread of it. His eyes blinked repeatedly, but the scene was lost now, and he was…he was…
*thud*
The almost mute sound of a book falling from the bed’s edge to the floor captured Arthur’s waking awareness.
He blinked his green eyes repeatedly, barely taking in his surroundings. There was not much he could see, not only because the room was shrouded in shadows, but also because his heavy-lidded eyes were the only cooperative part of his body then.
His hands remained unmoving and numbly cold, one arm outstretched towards the wall, the other loosely curled on his chest.
But Arthur did not even put much of an effort in trying to move his limbs, his body.
Re: Open your eyes (and surrender) 1.b/?
anonymous
November 3 2010, 19:00:11 UTC
By now he knew it would be long minutes before his body decided to obey his mind commands.
Deep breaths, rationalization, calm, staying calm, do not panic, believe that movement will return soon, soon. This was all part of his imposed training.
But he was lucky, Arthur mused with dry humor. Fortunately his developed routine had him waking at dawn, with plenty of time to prepare and be early for his meetings and classes.
‘-the classroom, love…’
Arthur winced, eyes shutting tightly. What was he dreaming, again? The old family house, the smell of breakfast, Mrs. Morrison’s horrid Math tests…and mother, and his insufferable brothers-
It could have been worse, he knew it. He had seen so much worse…
Arthur gasped, groaned out loud in relief, finally being able to move his head, and then his hands, cold fingers flexing ever so slowly. His legs still felt like lead.
The clock on the cluttered desk read 04:32.
He had enough time before another day started. He had an early meeting with the rest of the council, and then two classes in a row, then the usual trip to the cafeteria to snatch a quick meal to eat out in the garden, and if he was really lucky today, he would not fall prey to Francis’ molestation, he would not bicker with Antonio, and he would not be haunted by the ever annoying, ever secretly amusing, hardly admittedly cherished presence of his roommate.
If Arthur Kirkland was really lucky today, he would be able to finally catch some decent sleep between classes.
Too bad Arthur had always been on the pessimist side.
***
[Every double room in the school dorm had a generic-looking, plastic plate to the right side of the door.
The last names on that one particular plate read Jones (with a haphazardly-drawn star there), and Kirkland.]
writer!anon
anonymous
November 4 2010, 03:24:07 UTC
*embarrassed shake of head*
The other anon is being too kind and got a bit confused? because for the life of me, I do not know how I could compare to any other writer!anon in this meme. Everyone is so talented, I feel so intimidated.
_______
Open Your Eyes (and surrender)
He had overslept!
Arthur cursed under his breath, simultaneously grabbing his messenger bag with one hand and finishing buckling his belt with the other. Bag secured, tie in place, wallet and cell on his person, Arthur dashed out.
He could not be late. Never be late. It would be preposterous, and Arthur Kirkland did not do preposterous, thank you kindly.
Even if he would have secretly preferred to enjoy a morning of sleeping in, the school president could not afford small luxuries. And once he had made up his mind on something, nothing short of horrid sickness or…
Arthur’s train of thoughts derailed momentarily as he ran out of his bedroom and started running down the flight of creaky stairs.
Hmmm…oh yes, their house had always had the strangest, most wicked sounds going on. Gave his friends the fright of their lives when they came over to study for that test with Mrs. Morrison in 4th grade…
“Love, careful, if you run amuck like so you’ll trip over your own feet. And are you planning to go to school without eating anything?”
Arthur froze at the threshold that connected hall with dinning room.
Oh. Mum. And breakfast.
“I’m running really late” -his voice came out almost unconsciously, a reflex respond.
“I am sure Mrs. Morrison would not mind terribly if you are not the very first student to arrive to the classroom, love” -his mother’s voice drifter over, as her figure wandered from kitchen to table.
Her auburn hair was unbound, and her green eyes were just as Arthur remembered them.
Oh. Mum. And breakfast. And their old house two blocks from his primary school.
Arthur’s eyes drank in the sight of the woman, of her hair and her eyes and the sound of her voice. And for a moment he wanted to take in the rest of the details of the room, but the light coming from the large open window was blindingly bright.
The sunlight washed out every other color.
Arthur stood there, right hand lax on the strap of his messenger bag, left hand on the pocket of his uniform pants. The pants were dark, checkered. And his dress shirt a pristine white under the standard light blue jacket. Standard high school uniform, save for the pin identifying him as senior and member of the students’ council.
“Oh, mum” -he whispered, and he almost spoke out the truth, the undeterred sadly accepted truth, but instead his words were…-“Can we have breakfast just the two of us?”
Tinkling bells, laughter.
“I ought to scold you for that, young boy. You know your brothers will come down soon too. Be a dear and bring the…”
The woman’s words lost themselves into nothingness, her lips moving but no sound coming out, and now even her lips and the rest of her face were being washed out by the invasive light from the window.
Arthur’s eyes squinted, but he knew it was futile. He was losing the thread of it. His eyes blinked repeatedly, but the scene was lost now, and he was…he was…
*thud*
The almost mute sound of a book falling from the bed’s edge to the floor captured Arthur’s waking awareness.
He blinked his green eyes repeatedly, barely taking in his surroundings. There was not much he could see, not only because the room was shrouded in shadows, but also because his heavy-lidded eyes were the only cooperative part of his body then.
His hands remained unmoving and numbly cold, one arm outstretched towards the wall, the other loosely curled on his chest.
But Arthur did not even put much of an effort in trying to move his limbs, his body.
Not anymore.
Reply
Deep breaths, rationalization, calm, staying calm, do not panic, believe that movement will return soon, soon. This was all part of his imposed training.
But he was lucky, Arthur mused with dry humor. Fortunately his developed routine had him waking at dawn, with plenty of time to prepare and be early for his meetings and classes.
‘-the classroom, love…’
Arthur winced, eyes shutting tightly. What was he dreaming, again? The old family house, the smell of breakfast, Mrs. Morrison’s horrid Math tests…and mother, and his insufferable brothers-
It could have been worse, he knew it. He had seen so much worse…
Arthur gasped, groaned out loud in relief, finally being able to move his head, and then his hands, cold fingers flexing ever so slowly. His legs still felt like lead.
The clock on the cluttered desk read 04:32.
He had enough time before another day started. He had an early meeting with the rest of the council, and then two classes in a row, then the usual trip to the cafeteria to snatch a quick meal to eat out in the garden, and if he was really lucky today, he would not fall prey to Francis’ molestation, he would not bicker with Antonio, and he would not be haunted by the ever annoying, ever secretly amusing, hardly admittedly cherished presence of his roommate.
If Arthur Kirkland was really lucky today, he would be able to finally catch some decent sleep between classes.
Too bad Arthur had always been on the pessimist side.
***
[Every double room in the school dorm had a generic-looking, plastic plate to the right side of the door.
The last names on that one particular plate read Jones (with a haphazardly-drawn star there), and Kirkland.]
TBC.
Reply
Reply
I know who you are, Author!anon. *bookmarks*
Reply
(you do? what else has author!anon done? I like what i've seen so far!]
Reply
The other anon is being too kind and got a bit confused? because for the life of me, I do not know how I could compare to any other writer!anon in this meme. Everyone is so talented, I feel so intimidated.
Sorry, anon, this is my first fill here.
Reply
*huggles*
Reply
Can't wait to see what happens next.
Reply
Anon, your anon-ness is un-anon! If it was intentional, thank you for being a dear and commenting in all the un-anon-ness glory.
If it was accidental XDD love you all the same, has happened to me btw XDD
Thanks for the comment, another part will be up this weekend.
Reply
...XD
luckily i don't actually use that account for anything, though.
anyway, i am eagerly looking foward to this new part. ^^
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment