Fanfiction 100: #037. Sound.
Fic Number: #037.
Prompt: Sound.
Author: pvtwitt
Rating: General
Length: 240 words
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Takes place before the arrival of Bear.
Disclaimer: The characters of Person of Interest are (unfortunately) not mine. This is just for entertainment.
They didn’t have a new number, and he was getting restless. He’d cleaned his guns, even did a little grocery shopping and laundry. But his apartment was too quiet, except for the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of his footsteps as he paced. He shrugged into his jacket and left, stepping into the sudden clang and clatter of New York City. This was almost too noisy, and he hunched his shoulders, pulled his collar up around his ears and made his way to the library.
Once there, he took the steps two at a time, his shoes echoing off the walls. Harold was busily typing away, nodded a surprised hello, and went back to work.
“New number?” John asked.
“Not yet. Just doing some software updates.” Harold’s fingers paused over the keyboard. “What are you doing here?”
John ran a hand over a line of books on a shelf, selected one, flipped through the pages. “It’s too quiet at my place.”
“So you chose to come here? To a library?”
“Better reading material.”
John sat down, opened the book and checked out the table of contents. Harold continued to work, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the keyboard. The computers whirred, and every once in a while the wind would rattle against the windows. The sounds John heard were soothing and after a moment, his posture relaxed. He settled more comfortably in the chair, feeling at home.
Prompt: Sound.
Author: pvtwitt
Rating: General
Length: 240 words
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Takes place before the arrival of Bear.
Disclaimer: The characters of Person of Interest are (unfortunately) not mine. This is just for entertainment.
They didn’t have a new number, and he was getting restless. He’d cleaned his guns, even did a little grocery shopping and laundry. But his apartment was too quiet, except for the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of his footsteps as he paced. He shrugged into his jacket and left, stepping into the sudden clang and clatter of New York City. This was almost too noisy, and he hunched his shoulders, pulled his collar up around his ears and made his way to the library.
Once there, he took the steps two at a time, his shoes echoing off the walls. Harold was busily typing away, nodded a surprised hello, and went back to work.
“New number?” John asked.
“Not yet. Just doing some software updates.” Harold’s fingers paused over the keyboard. “What are you doing here?”
John ran a hand over a line of books on a shelf, selected one, flipped through the pages. “It’s too quiet at my place.”
“So you chose to come here? To a library?”
“Better reading material.”
John sat down, opened the book and checked out the table of contents. Harold continued to work, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the keyboard. The computers whirred, and every once in a while the wind would rattle against the windows. The sounds John heard were soothing and after a moment, his posture relaxed. He settled more comfortably in the chair, feeling at home.