Fic: Coffee (An Odd Man story)
Title: Coffee (An Odd Man story)
Prompt: Harsh angles & "You have to laugh at yourself once in a while, because you'd cry your eyes out if you didn't" (The Indigo Girls)
Bonus? yes
Word Count: 382
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc): none
Summary: It's the next day and he said he would come back.
She's waiting for him the next morning, up before the sun even decides to make an appearance. After three cups of coffee (she really should have stopped at two), she decides he isn't coming and there's enough natural sunlight slanting in through the windows to paint shadows in harsh angles that she feels stupid sitting at the kitchen table in her nice robe, the one she bought herself on the off chance she ever has an overnight guest. To date, sadly, she's never had a chance to wear it.
When the doorbell chimes, she doesn't recognize it. There is a part of her brain that tells her what it is, yes, but there is no doorbell at any of their doors. Well, that's not true. The front door, the one that is seldom opened, has a doorbell. Or had one. Once. It hasn't worked in years.
Cautiously, she picks up the closest thing to a weapon that she can find (the aluminum water pitcher which looks much scarier than it actually is) and slinks down the hallway. "Hello?" she asks loudly.
"Hello," comes the reply from the shadowed figure that is suddenly highlighted against the clouded glass. "I fixed your doorbell."
"Yes. I'm well aware of that fact." She sounds irritated and perhaps she is, but that wasn't what she meant to say. If she could take it back, she would instead like her first words to be, "I'm so glad you came back because I've thought of little else since you left."
Instead, she opens the door and tries not to grimace at the squeak. He stares at the door and she can tell he's trying to read the sound for it's origins so that he can jump right into fixing it when she steps away. It should be endearing but she scowls.
"I have coffee ready."
"I don't drink coffee."
She contemplates slamming the door on him but instead moves back into the hallway and wraps the robe more tightly around her. He finally looks up and regards her with the same appraising look he gave the door. "Have I woken you? I apologize. I've never been very good at time of day."
And she forgives him with a smile and a weak laugh because what else could she do?
Prompt: Harsh angles & "You have to laugh at yourself once in a while, because you'd cry your eyes out if you didn't" (The Indigo Girls)
Bonus? yes
Word Count: 382
Rating: PG
Original/Fandom: Original
Pairings (if any): none
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con etc): none
Summary: It's the next day and he said he would come back.
She's waiting for him the next morning, up before the sun even decides to make an appearance. After three cups of coffee (she really should have stopped at two), she decides he isn't coming and there's enough natural sunlight slanting in through the windows to paint shadows in harsh angles that she feels stupid sitting at the kitchen table in her nice robe, the one she bought herself on the off chance she ever has an overnight guest. To date, sadly, she's never had a chance to wear it.
When the doorbell chimes, she doesn't recognize it. There is a part of her brain that tells her what it is, yes, but there is no doorbell at any of their doors. Well, that's not true. The front door, the one that is seldom opened, has a doorbell. Or had one. Once. It hasn't worked in years.
Cautiously, she picks up the closest thing to a weapon that she can find (the aluminum water pitcher which looks much scarier than it actually is) and slinks down the hallway. "Hello?" she asks loudly.
"Hello," comes the reply from the shadowed figure that is suddenly highlighted against the clouded glass. "I fixed your doorbell."
"Yes. I'm well aware of that fact." She sounds irritated and perhaps she is, but that wasn't what she meant to say. If she could take it back, she would instead like her first words to be, "I'm so glad you came back because I've thought of little else since you left."
Instead, she opens the door and tries not to grimace at the squeak. He stares at the door and she can tell he's trying to read the sound for it's origins so that he can jump right into fixing it when she steps away. It should be endearing but she scowls.
"I have coffee ready."
"I don't drink coffee."
She contemplates slamming the door on him but instead moves back into the hallway and wraps the robe more tightly around her. He finally looks up and regards her with the same appraising look he gave the door. "Have I woken you? I apologize. I've never been very good at time of day."
And she forgives him with a smile and a weak laugh because what else could she do?