Laughter Snippet
I don’t think this snippet worked out well, but well months after I wrote nearly all of it, I have to give in and admit I can’t fix it. :-P Sorry!!!
Snippet 9-28-07 ‘Laughter’ Response
There was laughter, an odd sound, it didn’t sound quite right, not forced or unnatural though, simply unused.
“What?” was the husky murmur that responded to it and a shifting of warmth as she moved to look up, rustling the covers as she did so.
“Nothing,” the smile could be felt as sure as her dark hair suddenly being brushed aside by strong fingers.
“Nothing?” her brows lifted.
The smile more of a smirk now, felt from the inside, “You make me happy.”
Her turn to smirk, “Never would have figured that one out myself,” a soft hand was placed on his chest. “Your heart’s pounding,” she looked slightly puzzled and in awe by this.
His hand covered hers, “What can I say? You excite me.” You scare me.
She looked ready to question him on this, so he pulled her to him first.
Dark eyes looked soulfully into his, “I don’t know how I got so lucky. You make it all okay.” She smirked. “Or at least worthwhile.”
-x-x-X-x-x-
There was that pounding again, throbbing, aching, ready to burst.
Take her, it yelled.
She’d go. Take her!
He knew she’d go, he hated her for it.
He could hear her inside the apartment. Frantic.
There had been a gentle call of his name, the thud of her bag and then a moment of silence. His name louder; then began the frantic moves through their apartment, doors being flung open, drawers being pulled out, then the desperate move out of their apartment…her apartment now. Banging on the neighbors’ doors, desperately searching for someone to tell her it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t gone. She tore back into the apartment with a neighbor nipping on her heels, grabbed her bag, slammed the door and then she was gone again. He ducked inside before she exited the building, not sure if she would look up and see him on the fire escape. He wouldn’t be able to leave if he saw her again. Correction: He wouldn’t be able to leave alone.
He walked past their stuff, through a minefield of memories and into the bathroom. Empty eyes greeted him. Empty, cold and blue. She had loved his eyes. She had claimed to love all of him and he thinks she would, but he can never give her the chance.
He’s not doing this for him, he’s doing it for her, but she’d never believe that. She’ll hate him, there’s nothing he can do to change that…nothing that won’t make her vulnerable. Hate can be a power, a strength. Hate, fear and necessity got him through life until he met her. Before he found out there were stronger things, stronger urges, drives, all that compromised him, left him vulnerable to those who had instituted the fear and hate and all those like them.
“We’re not made for this life,” he whispered to himself as he allowed himself one final look at what could never be.
-x-x-X-x-x-
She wasn’t exactly a creature of habit. Not to say she didn’t occasionally exhibit certain patterns, but habit…There was one thing though. Joe’s Diner, Saturdays. That was the only definite.
It could be early morning and a full breakfast before the rest of the day. It could be straggling in late, after a hard night out, a plate of pancakes split between them. Falling into the booth after a hard day’s work, a cup of coffee, a piece of cake…
Yea, the diner and Saturdays was the only thing she did on a habitual basis.
He just needed to check on her. Make sure they hadn’t gotten her. His sources had never hinted at that, but for all he knew they were playing him. This was all some sick, twisted manipulation of Lydecker’s.
And then there she was, already there before he was, not surprising since it had been a last minute trip. Dark hair, longer than since he’d last seen her. Dark eyes watching as the strawberry milkshake dripped off the edge of her straw as she played with it like a child.
She plunged it back in rapidly and looked across the table, suddenly sitting up a little straighter and giving an apologetic smile to her companion.
That’s what he realized what she’d done aside not take the money he’d left her and gone back to her parents, like he suggested in his note. She had become one of them. One of the blue collars swept up into alleged salvation by a white collar. It was a disease that had plagued the nation since the Pulse, the loss of the beautiful and sweet to those higher up in the caste system that ruled their nation. Those who had managed to retain a steady paycheck, heat and running water.
A perfect, dutiful wife, easy on the eyes and the nerves. She would be so thankful for everything she had that the rest of the country did not, that he wouldn’t have to do much to keep her in line, a gentle nudging would all she’d ever require, as she was aware of how quickly she could be tossed back into the cold, dark world, he had rescued her from.
He, the yuppie in the polo. Not he, Zack, not her Mark that she had known, loved and lived with in the steel tipped construction boots, paint splattered jeans and battered tee-shirts.
He remembered the first time he saw her, the fire, the attitude and then the vulnerability lurking behind those large brown eyes, the slightly crooked smile. He’d wondered if she was Max for a split second before moving onto thinking that she was how he hoped Max had grown up. Behind the years of compliance had always been a hint of defiance, he hoped she really had made it and it had come out, though not too much.
It wasn’t Max ignoring the urge to play with her milkshake now though and he knew that eventually her eyes would find his and it wouldn’t be one of those sappy romantic comedy scenes. She wouldn’t run to him, throw her arms around him…
A slow walk, meant to show just how unaffected she was. Biting, cruel words to berate him for knowing how to live her life better than her and telling him he no longer had a right to judge her. And in the end she would unwittingly ask about them: if he had ever loved her, if they had meant anything to him, if any of it was true.
He wasn’t sure he could lie. So the steel toed boots lifted and he left her life again.
-x-x-X-x-x-
A charcoal gray wagon pulled in front of Max’s building and it drew Zack’s suspicious attention, after all what the hell was that kind of car doing in front of this kind of building. Then his eyes focused on the woman in the passenger’s seat, young, dark hair.
She looked nervous, her companion looked oblivious, he didn’t notice her gaze shifting from him, to the windshield, to the door. When he did finally turn to face her, he didn’t notice the way she stopped moving and as he made no attempt of getting out of the car with her as her hand was on the handle, he barely noticed her slightly turn back to him.
The trunk was popped as she walked around the car, extracted a bike from it with no help, not that she needed help, but….
Her companion finally realized to smile as she stopped at the entry and turned back, it caused a sudden one to emerge on her face and then worry and discomfort filled her eyes.
Her companion took off as the door closed, but he remained watching her building.
He tugged down his hood as he turned to leave a few seconds after the lights had turned on in the apartment he knew to be hers. He ignored the parallels that pounded in his heart, but he would save her from herself. He was her brother, she was his sister, it was his duty.
-x-x-X-x-x-
She shot forward in her bed with a memory of a laugh in her ears.
She gasped for air with wide eyes as one hand then another scratched down her chest, trying to tear off that raised flesh and what lay beneath.
Gasps turned to uncontrollable sobs. For a lost brother, a lost lover. A woman, who would never know how loved she was. A life that was sacrificed for hers. Her flawed and tragic one with a love that just couldn’t be. She cried for a precious laugh she had never heard, yet knew. One she had once doubted ever existed.
Then she stopped. Abruptly despite the continued anguish. An unconscious command halted the display. She was after all a soldier.
-x-x-X-x-x-
AN: Should have been dreamlike quality moving into a more real feeling dream (know how you can slip into them until they’re more real than real life). I really hate the ending….It was so much better in my head.
Snippet 9-28-07 ‘Laughter’ Response
There was laughter, an odd sound, it didn’t sound quite right, not forced or unnatural though, simply unused.
“What?” was the husky murmur that responded to it and a shifting of warmth as she moved to look up, rustling the covers as she did so.
“Nothing,” the smile could be felt as sure as her dark hair suddenly being brushed aside by strong fingers.
“Nothing?” her brows lifted.
The smile more of a smirk now, felt from the inside, “You make me happy.”
Her turn to smirk, “Never would have figured that one out myself,” a soft hand was placed on his chest. “Your heart’s pounding,” she looked slightly puzzled and in awe by this.
His hand covered hers, “What can I say? You excite me.” You scare me.
She looked ready to question him on this, so he pulled her to him first.
Dark eyes looked soulfully into his, “I don’t know how I got so lucky. You make it all okay.” She smirked. “Or at least worthwhile.”
-x-x-X-x-x-
There was that pounding again, throbbing, aching, ready to burst.
Take her, it yelled.
She’d go. Take her!
He knew she’d go, he hated her for it.
He could hear her inside the apartment. Frantic.
There had been a gentle call of his name, the thud of her bag and then a moment of silence. His name louder; then began the frantic moves through their apartment, doors being flung open, drawers being pulled out, then the desperate move out of their apartment…her apartment now. Banging on the neighbors’ doors, desperately searching for someone to tell her it wasn’t true, that he wasn’t gone. She tore back into the apartment with a neighbor nipping on her heels, grabbed her bag, slammed the door and then she was gone again. He ducked inside before she exited the building, not sure if she would look up and see him on the fire escape. He wouldn’t be able to leave if he saw her again. Correction: He wouldn’t be able to leave alone.
He walked past their stuff, through a minefield of memories and into the bathroom. Empty eyes greeted him. Empty, cold and blue. She had loved his eyes. She had claimed to love all of him and he thinks she would, but he can never give her the chance.
He’s not doing this for him, he’s doing it for her, but she’d never believe that. She’ll hate him, there’s nothing he can do to change that…nothing that won’t make her vulnerable. Hate can be a power, a strength. Hate, fear and necessity got him through life until he met her. Before he found out there were stronger things, stronger urges, drives, all that compromised him, left him vulnerable to those who had instituted the fear and hate and all those like them.
“We’re not made for this life,” he whispered to himself as he allowed himself one final look at what could never be.
-x-x-X-x-x-
She wasn’t exactly a creature of habit. Not to say she didn’t occasionally exhibit certain patterns, but habit…There was one thing though. Joe’s Diner, Saturdays. That was the only definite.
It could be early morning and a full breakfast before the rest of the day. It could be straggling in late, after a hard night out, a plate of pancakes split between them. Falling into the booth after a hard day’s work, a cup of coffee, a piece of cake…
Yea, the diner and Saturdays was the only thing she did on a habitual basis.
He just needed to check on her. Make sure they hadn’t gotten her. His sources had never hinted at that, but for all he knew they were playing him. This was all some sick, twisted manipulation of Lydecker’s.
And then there she was, already there before he was, not surprising since it had been a last minute trip. Dark hair, longer than since he’d last seen her. Dark eyes watching as the strawberry milkshake dripped off the edge of her straw as she played with it like a child.
She plunged it back in rapidly and looked across the table, suddenly sitting up a little straighter and giving an apologetic smile to her companion.
That’s what he realized what she’d done aside not take the money he’d left her and gone back to her parents, like he suggested in his note. She had become one of them. One of the blue collars swept up into alleged salvation by a white collar. It was a disease that had plagued the nation since the Pulse, the loss of the beautiful and sweet to those higher up in the caste system that ruled their nation. Those who had managed to retain a steady paycheck, heat and running water.
A perfect, dutiful wife, easy on the eyes and the nerves. She would be so thankful for everything she had that the rest of the country did not, that he wouldn’t have to do much to keep her in line, a gentle nudging would all she’d ever require, as she was aware of how quickly she could be tossed back into the cold, dark world, he had rescued her from.
He, the yuppie in the polo. Not he, Zack, not her Mark that she had known, loved and lived with in the steel tipped construction boots, paint splattered jeans and battered tee-shirts.
He remembered the first time he saw her, the fire, the attitude and then the vulnerability lurking behind those large brown eyes, the slightly crooked smile. He’d wondered if she was Max for a split second before moving onto thinking that she was how he hoped Max had grown up. Behind the years of compliance had always been a hint of defiance, he hoped she really had made it and it had come out, though not too much.
It wasn’t Max ignoring the urge to play with her milkshake now though and he knew that eventually her eyes would find his and it wouldn’t be one of those sappy romantic comedy scenes. She wouldn’t run to him, throw her arms around him…
A slow walk, meant to show just how unaffected she was. Biting, cruel words to berate him for knowing how to live her life better than her and telling him he no longer had a right to judge her. And in the end she would unwittingly ask about them: if he had ever loved her, if they had meant anything to him, if any of it was true.
He wasn’t sure he could lie. So the steel toed boots lifted and he left her life again.
-x-x-X-x-x-
A charcoal gray wagon pulled in front of Max’s building and it drew Zack’s suspicious attention, after all what the hell was that kind of car doing in front of this kind of building. Then his eyes focused on the woman in the passenger’s seat, young, dark hair.
She looked nervous, her companion looked oblivious, he didn’t notice her gaze shifting from him, to the windshield, to the door. When he did finally turn to face her, he didn’t notice the way she stopped moving and as he made no attempt of getting out of the car with her as her hand was on the handle, he barely noticed her slightly turn back to him.
The trunk was popped as she walked around the car, extracted a bike from it with no help, not that she needed help, but….
Her companion finally realized to smile as she stopped at the entry and turned back, it caused a sudden one to emerge on her face and then worry and discomfort filled her eyes.
Her companion took off as the door closed, but he remained watching her building.
He tugged down his hood as he turned to leave a few seconds after the lights had turned on in the apartment he knew to be hers. He ignored the parallels that pounded in his heart, but he would save her from herself. He was her brother, she was his sister, it was his duty.
-x-x-X-x-x-
She shot forward in her bed with a memory of a laugh in her ears.
She gasped for air with wide eyes as one hand then another scratched down her chest, trying to tear off that raised flesh and what lay beneath.
Gasps turned to uncontrollable sobs. For a lost brother, a lost lover. A woman, who would never know how loved she was. A life that was sacrificed for hers. Her flawed and tragic one with a love that just couldn’t be. She cried for a precious laugh she had never heard, yet knew. One she had once doubted ever existed.
Then she stopped. Abruptly despite the continued anguish. An unconscious command halted the display. She was after all a soldier.
-x-x-X-x-x-
AN: Should have been dreamlike quality moving into a more real feeling dream (know how you can slip into them until they’re more real than real life). I really hate the ending….It was so much better in my head.