Fic: Amber Rising (1/1)
Title: Amber Rising
Rating: PG
Character(s): Richard Alpert, Jacob
Word Count: 108
Summary: The end of innocence. For the lost_in_108 Challenge #6: Monster and the 18coda Prompt #3 - Canon. Spoilers through 5.16 - The Incident, Parts 1 & 2.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author’s Notes: Question: What do you do when you have to leave for the airport in approximately 8 hours and you still haven’t packed? Answer: Write a drabble, obviously. Still on that Jacob-Richard kick, too, apparently. Hmm.
Amber Rising
Frightened eyes spill over their lids, their lashes; amber rising as he looks on, transfixed, his stomach in knots as his cheeks flush - round still with a youth that’s leaving him with every minute he stays, every second thing he sees.
Yet there’s something beautiful in it, he thinks - something he can’t articulate, something made for words he doesn’t know; like the sun glowing red against the edge of a storm, or the beating of his mother’s heart against his ear; the bile burning sharp against his throat.
“You’re a monster.”
Blue eyes smile, cold and hostile; familiar. Somehow like home.
“You won’t think that way for long.”
Rating: PG
Character(s): Richard Alpert, Jacob
Word Count: 108
Summary: The end of innocence. For the lost_in_108 Challenge #6: Monster and the 18coda Prompt #3 - Canon. Spoilers through 5.16 - The Incident, Parts 1 & 2.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author’s Notes: Question: What do you do when you have to leave for the airport in approximately 8 hours and you still haven’t packed? Answer: Write a drabble, obviously. Still on that Jacob-Richard kick, too, apparently. Hmm.
Amber Rising
Frightened eyes spill over their lids, their lashes; amber rising as he looks on, transfixed, his stomach in knots as his cheeks flush - round still with a youth that’s leaving him with every minute he stays, every second thing he sees.
Yet there’s something beautiful in it, he thinks - something he can’t articulate, something made for words he doesn’t know; like the sun glowing red against the edge of a storm, or the beating of his mother’s heart against his ear; the bile burning sharp against his throat.
“You’re a monster.”
Blue eyes smile, cold and hostile; familiar. Somehow like home.
“You won’t think that way for long.”