PSoH: One for Remembrance, One for Forgetting, and One for Regrets
Title: One for Remembrance, One for Forgetting, and One for Regrets
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Characters: Howell, Papa D
Notes: Completely coincidentally and accidentally, I managed to write a double drabble (accident) on the week where one of the challenges over at psohdrabble is to write a double drabble (coincidence!). Fun times, brain, fun times... Especially with the extreme pretentiousness of the title. Huh.[Spoilers for Volume 10, I suppose.]
This is what Howell wishes he remembered: every gesture of D's long white hands. Every cruel smirk and jibe D made, at his expense and at everyone else's. What him and D talked about when they were getting an experiment ready. The lies D told as easy as breathing.
This is what Howell actually remembered: D's eyes, a bright unnatural purple that made girls go weak at the knees - and a few of the guys too. D's smirk, painted on a few shades darker than his eyes. D walking out of the lab one evening, promising Howell that he'd get something to eat with him the next day, if he really insisted, and never coming back.
This is what Howell regretted: that all he can remember of what D actually looked like is the grainy photo they used in the news when his disappearance hit the headlines, the one of D turning away from the camera, so they got a great shot of D's hair flaring around him in a cloud and the faintest touch of his smile. That he looks at the photo in Orcot's file, and all he can think is So that's what you looked like.
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Characters: Howell, Papa D
Notes: Completely coincidentally and accidentally, I managed to write a double drabble (accident) on the week where one of the challenges over at psohdrabble is to write a double drabble (coincidence!). Fun times, brain, fun times... Especially with the extreme pretentiousness of the title. Huh.[Spoilers for Volume 10, I suppose.]
This is what Howell wishes he remembered: every gesture of D's long white hands. Every cruel smirk and jibe D made, at his expense and at everyone else's. What him and D talked about when they were getting an experiment ready. The lies D told as easy as breathing.
This is what Howell actually remembered: D's eyes, a bright unnatural purple that made girls go weak at the knees - and a few of the guys too. D's smirk, painted on a few shades darker than his eyes. D walking out of the lab one evening, promising Howell that he'd get something to eat with him the next day, if he really insisted, and never coming back.
This is what Howell regretted: that all he can remember of what D actually looked like is the grainy photo they used in the news when his disappearance hit the headlines, the one of D turning away from the camera, so they got a great shot of D's hair flaring around him in a cloud and the faintest touch of his smile. That he looks at the photo in Orcot's file, and all he can think is So that's what you looked like.