[original fiction] Consequences
Date: 23 June 2006
Title: Consequences
Fandom: none (original fiction)
Characters: a guy and a girl
Warnings/Spoilers/Notes: For
autophanous's request: tell me a story that starts with the sentence, "they were vaguely bitter about what had transpired, but rules were rules, and you really couldn't do that in public." My story originally found here.
They were vaguely bitter about what had transpired, but rules were rules, and you really couldn't do that in public. The incident had happened at the restaurant near his house. Not at all high-class, though it wasn't fast food calibre either. It served good food, even if the chicken was a bit on the greasy side.
They had gone a date there. He had been really sweet - bought her a pretty flower (she still doesn't know what kind) and even held her hand briefly as they walked there. They'd received a fair number of odd looks when they entered the restaurant together, but nothing massive.
When they had finished dinner, they chatted for a little bit. Nothing really important, just the daily things, the wordly things. He had gotten a rather thoughtful look on his face - she found it adorable - and soon stood up. She was quick to follow him (she wasn't going to be left alone here), but he gesticulated her to relax. He walked up right in front of her (the entire restaurant had been staring, but she really hadn't cared) and gave her a peck on the left cheek.
That was actually a rather simplified version of what he had done. He had kissed her on the cheek, then he had moved more toward the centre of her face, and maybe, okay, maybe there had been some tongue.
There had almost been a riot. They escaped, barely; their table had been situated to the right of the entrance. By the end of the week, both of their houses had been egged, and one was almost set on fire. He had been beaten "to a pulp"; he was fortunate not to have a broken nose. The only reason the same fate had not fallen to her was because she had been under house arrest; she also had some pretty scary brothers. Why they weren't actually arrested - they never did find out. After all, he was white, and she was black.
Shakespeare always said that everyone - no one could escape it: not a particular group, race, religion - everyone would be food for the worms at the end. In the end, they would be gone. They would be equal in death.
Why did it matter so much to people what they did, then?
Title: Consequences
Fandom: none (original fiction)
Characters: a guy and a girl
Warnings/Spoilers/Notes: For
autophanous's request: tell me a story that starts with the sentence, "they were vaguely bitter about what had transpired, but rules were rules, and you really couldn't do that in public." My story originally found here.
They were vaguely bitter about what had transpired, but rules were rules, and you really couldn't do that in public. The incident had happened at the restaurant near his house. Not at all high-class, though it wasn't fast food calibre either. It served good food, even if the chicken was a bit on the greasy side.
They had gone a date there. He had been really sweet - bought her a pretty flower (she still doesn't know what kind) and even held her hand briefly as they walked there. They'd received a fair number of odd looks when they entered the restaurant together, but nothing massive.
When they had finished dinner, they chatted for a little bit. Nothing really important, just the daily things, the wordly things. He had gotten a rather thoughtful look on his face - she found it adorable - and soon stood up. She was quick to follow him (she wasn't going to be left alone here), but he gesticulated her to relax. He walked up right in front of her (the entire restaurant had been staring, but she really hadn't cared) and gave her a peck on the left cheek.
That was actually a rather simplified version of what he had done. He had kissed her on the cheek, then he had moved more toward the centre of her face, and maybe, okay, maybe there had been some tongue.
There had almost been a riot. They escaped, barely; their table had been situated to the right of the entrance. By the end of the week, both of their houses had been egged, and one was almost set on fire. He had been beaten "to a pulp"; he was fortunate not to have a broken nose. The only reason the same fate had not fallen to her was because she had been under house arrest; she also had some pretty scary brothers. Why they weren't actually arrested - they never did find out. After all, he was white, and she was black.
Shakespeare always said that everyone - no one could escape it: not a particular group, race, religion - everyone would be food for the worms at the end. In the end, they would be gone. They would be equal in death.
Why did it matter so much to people what they did, then?