Holiday Fic, Day 14: Constant as the changing weather for tromana
Title: Constant as the Changing Weather
Author: miss_peg
Rating: R
Summary: Jal returns to College Green four years after Chris's death.
Notes: Another holiday fic! A reminder that whilst many people did them in December I had lots going on (and quite frankly it was a good idea not to do it then as I was highly unmotivated) so I'm doing it in January along with tromana.
Today's story is for tromana's prompt constant as the changing weather about the characters Jal and Chris from Skins. It's not very good, I obviously know very little about these two, it was so hard to write. The most awesome thing about this is that I've now been to College Green...and possibly the place where this picture was taken.
The clouds shifted from the west until they settled upon Bristol. Dark, thick, black clouds. Jal stared up at the sky and thought of Chris. If nature knew what had happened, if it could sense and reflect feelings, then that sky would be for them. For her. Angry, upset and scared of what would come, now that he was gone.
Whenever he smiled, before, she would remember the good times. The sun shining on the summer between AS and A levels and the enjoyable moments they’d shared on that very same spot at College Green.
Long gone but never forgotten.
It had been four years since he died and yet the pain never really went away. She’d loved him, really loved him and she imagined she always would. They say you never forget your first love. She knew that to be the biggest curse put upon anyone who lost their first love in such tragic circumstances.
Even three years at university didn’t quell her pain.
In the end they’d both ended up exactly where they promised not to. She’d said no to almost every opportunity since leaving college, which resulted in her ending up living back in Bristol with her dad, with little more than a part time job to keep her occupied.
And Chris, he’d said his final fuck it.
If his friends had been in charge of his funeral, unlike his dad, his gravestone would probably have read “fuck it” instead of “much loved son and brother”.
She let out a sigh, kicked the grass beneath her feet and shouted “fuck it” as loud as she possibly could across College Green, until a couple of birds sitting on the pavement flew off in fear and she ended up wondering where that left her, now that she’d finally let go.
Author: miss_peg
Rating: R
Summary: Jal returns to College Green four years after Chris's death.
Notes: Another holiday fic! A reminder that whilst many people did them in December I had lots going on (and quite frankly it was a good idea not to do it then as I was highly unmotivated) so I'm doing it in January along with tromana.
Today's story is for tromana's prompt constant as the changing weather about the characters Jal and Chris from Skins. It's not very good, I obviously know very little about these two, it was so hard to write. The most awesome thing about this is that I've now been to College Green...and possibly the place where this picture was taken.
The clouds shifted from the west until they settled upon Bristol. Dark, thick, black clouds. Jal stared up at the sky and thought of Chris. If nature knew what had happened, if it could sense and reflect feelings, then that sky would be for them. For her. Angry, upset and scared of what would come, now that he was gone.
Whenever he smiled, before, she would remember the good times. The sun shining on the summer between AS and A levels and the enjoyable moments they’d shared on that very same spot at College Green.
Long gone but never forgotten.
It had been four years since he died and yet the pain never really went away. She’d loved him, really loved him and she imagined she always would. They say you never forget your first love. She knew that to be the biggest curse put upon anyone who lost their first love in such tragic circumstances.
Even three years at university didn’t quell her pain.
In the end they’d both ended up exactly where they promised not to. She’d said no to almost every opportunity since leaving college, which resulted in her ending up living back in Bristol with her dad, with little more than a part time job to keep her occupied.
And Chris, he’d said his final fuck it.
If his friends had been in charge of his funeral, unlike his dad, his gravestone would probably have read “fuck it” instead of “much loved son and brother”.
She let out a sigh, kicked the grass beneath her feet and shouted “fuck it” as loud as she possibly could across College Green, until a couple of birds sitting on the pavement flew off in fear and she ended up wondering where that left her, now that she’d finally let go.