Midnight - C/Z
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I asked for a prompt to get the taste of angst out of my mouth. danae_b thought "taste" would be a good prompt. I thought so too.
*sigh*
Midnight
Zeke stands with his head pressed against the kitchen cabinet, looking down at the glass of water on the counter, the glass of water he can't drink. He rubs his eyes. How many times has he stood here, like this - up against the counter, looking down? His throat closes. Right now the moonlight is shining through the glass, making a faint shadow on the grey tile. Ripples mar the surface as first one droplet hits, then another.
He's tired of this. He wants to sleep straight through the night. He wants to go out to the lake. He wants to look at things in the moonlight. He wants to be what he once was. At least that was known, he understood its contours. He knew the map, but now the terrain has changed. Hours and days and weeks pile up before him, and the color is bled out of his life the way the moon has bled it out of his kitchen.
He wants his mind back. He wants his body back. He wants himself back.
He thinks about making scat. He thinks about the gun. He thinks about Casey's skin, and how his mouth tasted of water, and he's only just now realized it.
Chapter 34 of High Contrast
Chapter 35
.
I asked for a prompt to get the taste of angst out of my mouth. danae_b thought "taste" would be a good prompt. I thought so too.
*sigh*
Midnight
Zeke stands with his head pressed against the kitchen cabinet, looking down at the glass of water on the counter, the glass of water he can't drink. He rubs his eyes. How many times has he stood here, like this - up against the counter, looking down? His throat closes. Right now the moonlight is shining through the glass, making a faint shadow on the grey tile. Ripples mar the surface as first one droplet hits, then another.
He's tired of this. He wants to sleep straight through the night. He wants to go out to the lake. He wants to look at things in the moonlight. He wants to be what he once was. At least that was known, he understood its contours. He knew the map, but now the terrain has changed. Hours and days and weeks pile up before him, and the color is bled out of his life the way the moon has bled it out of his kitchen.
He wants his mind back. He wants his body back. He wants himself back.
He thinks about making scat. He thinks about the gun. He thinks about Casey's skin, and how his mouth tasted of water, and he's only just now realized it.
Chapter 34 of High Contrast
Chapter 35
.