fic snippet
So, the sequel to To Fall Just a Little Bit has a title. It's called The World of Safe People and the two little bits I've already written are here and here is a little more:
***
One night, in California, before everything went pear-shaped all those years ago, Will listened to Sam speak and thought with a heady rush that he might be a little in love with Sam Seaborn. He hadn't even been able to applaud afterwards, he just grinned so big he was afraid of breaking his face and pulled Sam into a half hug when he stepped away from the podium. Sam grinned back, like weaving words together was the easiest thing in the world, and not for the first time, Will wondered what made Sam think they were even in the same league when it came to speech writing.
Sam doesn't speak now, not really. He asks questions, reminds Will that they're out of coffee, asks if they need anything from the store. He doesn't talk now, and as far as Will knows, he doesn't write. Sometimes he finds the crumbled remains of inkstained papers in the pockets of Sam's newly washed pants, but he doesn't ask questions any more than Sam does. They exist as parts of a perfectly oiled but silent system, and it makes Will ache inside in ways he can't, ironically enough, articulate. He wonders what could possibly be running through Sam's head, what could possibly have happened to rob someone so gifted of something that seemed so crucial to his survival. He wonders if Sam's words were ripped from him or if he gave them up voluntarily. He wonders which would be worse.
Will knows he's in love with Sam now, at least as far as he can tell. Even if it's not love, he's perfectly happy with whatever it is and he thinks he'll be perfectly happy even if they never share the kiss Will has been thinking about since Sam handed him a necktie. Still, he can't help but want things to be different, if only because he's starting to forget what Sam sounds like when he's passionate, when he truly cares. He strains against the silence each day, hoping as each passes that the next will hold the answer to unlocking Sam's silence.
***
Oh my GOD guys there is a GIANT BUG in my kitchen and it keeps WALKING CLOSER TO THE LIVING ROOM and I think the only sane thing for me to do is take my computer upstairs and turn off the lights and pretend I don't see it and hope my dad kills it in the morning O_O
***
One night, in California, before everything went pear-shaped all those years ago, Will listened to Sam speak and thought with a heady rush that he might be a little in love with Sam Seaborn. He hadn't even been able to applaud afterwards, he just grinned so big he was afraid of breaking his face and pulled Sam into a half hug when he stepped away from the podium. Sam grinned back, like weaving words together was the easiest thing in the world, and not for the first time, Will wondered what made Sam think they were even in the same league when it came to speech writing.
Sam doesn't speak now, not really. He asks questions, reminds Will that they're out of coffee, asks if they need anything from the store. He doesn't talk now, and as far as Will knows, he doesn't write. Sometimes he finds the crumbled remains of inkstained papers in the pockets of Sam's newly washed pants, but he doesn't ask questions any more than Sam does. They exist as parts of a perfectly oiled but silent system, and it makes Will ache inside in ways he can't, ironically enough, articulate. He wonders what could possibly be running through Sam's head, what could possibly have happened to rob someone so gifted of something that seemed so crucial to his survival. He wonders if Sam's words were ripped from him or if he gave them up voluntarily. He wonders which would be worse.
Will knows he's in love with Sam now, at least as far as he can tell. Even if it's not love, he's perfectly happy with whatever it is and he thinks he'll be perfectly happy even if they never share the kiss Will has been thinking about since Sam handed him a necktie. Still, he can't help but want things to be different, if only because he's starting to forget what Sam sounds like when he's passionate, when he truly cares. He strains against the silence each day, hoping as each passes that the next will hold the answer to unlocking Sam's silence.
***
Oh my GOD guys there is a GIANT BUG in my kitchen and it keeps WALKING CLOSER TO THE LIVING ROOM and I think the only sane thing for me to do is take my computer upstairs and turn off the lights and pretend I don't see it and hope my dad kills it in the morning O_O