It's Not a Toy - ficlet
title : It’s Not a Toy
fandom : Blak Cat
characters/pairing : Train, Eve
medium : ficlet
challenge : jewel box
AN : Written in ten minutes. Angst. And somehow I think I managed to wrap the first challenge in it. Bad me.
Crit : W/E
It’s shining. Eve doesn’t understand how something so black can be so shiny too. Train told her that it was made of orichalcon and she knows it’s very solid, but the book didn’t say anything about the metal being shiny.
Maybe it’s because there is gold engraved in it.
“It’s not a toy, Princess.”
Eve gives a start and looks up guiltily.
“It’s my fault,” Train says with a smile that isn’t really one. “I shouldn’t have just left it there.”
He takes the black gun in his hand and puts it back in the holster.
“I don’t want to sound rude or anything, Princess, but … please don’t touch it ?”
Eve doesn’t understand. There is a lot about Train that she doesn’t understand, and there’s nothing written in any book that will ever make her understand.
“Is it … precious ?” she finally asks.
Train smiles again. Or pretends to. It’s difficult to say sometimes.
“Yeah, I guess in a way it is.”
fandom : Blak Cat
characters/pairing : Train, Eve
medium : ficlet
challenge : jewel box
AN : Written in ten minutes. Angst. And somehow I think I managed to wrap the first challenge in it. Bad me.
Crit : W/E
It’s shining. Eve doesn’t understand how something so black can be so shiny too. Train told her that it was made of orichalcon and she knows it’s very solid, but the book didn’t say anything about the metal being shiny.
Maybe it’s because there is gold engraved in it.
“It’s not a toy, Princess.”
Eve gives a start and looks up guiltily.
“It’s my fault,” Train says with a smile that isn’t really one. “I shouldn’t have just left it there.”
He takes the black gun in his hand and puts it back in the holster.
“I don’t want to sound rude or anything, Princess, but … please don’t touch it ?”
Eve doesn’t understand. There is a lot about Train that she doesn’t understand, and there’s nothing written in any book that will ever make her understand.
“Is it … precious ?” she finally asks.
Train smiles again. Or pretends to. It’s difficult to say sometimes.
“Yeah, I guess in a way it is.”