(no subject)
Title: Day Two
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Rating: G
Character: Ryan Wolfe
Prompt: Trance
For:
60damnprompts
His sleep had been poor because half the night he tossed and turned, letting the anxiety and anticipation of that damned letter drive his mind to utter distraction. When he woke he felt more tired than the seven hours of rest should have left him. Not that it really mattered since he went to bed knowing that the elephant was still going to be in the kitchen when he woke up - rest was the last thing he should have been expecting. But what was waiting for him was something he never counted on. Bad news? Sure, but. . .
. . .A Living Will.
That's what had slid out of the confines of the white envelope when he'd finally picked it up from the counter and sliced it open with the silver penknife he kept in the first drawer below the toaster. Ryan had heard of them before, had even seen a few of the readings when they had been evidence during cases he'd worked, but he'd never known anyone that had one. And he had to use that descriptor - known.
The letter felt as if it was made of lead, the way it was weighing his hands down. The text was a standard issue Times New Roman, a default font without a hint of personalization; yeah, that was more like the Timothy Wolfe he knew. But what was written, well now that was something else.
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Rating: G
Character: Ryan Wolfe
Prompt: Trance
For:
60damnprompts
His sleep had been poor because half the night he tossed and turned, letting the anxiety and anticipation of that damned letter drive his mind to utter distraction. When he woke he felt more tired than the seven hours of rest should have left him. Not that it really mattered since he went to bed knowing that the elephant was still going to be in the kitchen when he woke up - rest was the last thing he should have been expecting. But what was waiting for him was something he never counted on. Bad news? Sure, but. . .
. . .A Living Will.
That's what had slid out of the confines of the white envelope when he'd finally picked it up from the counter and sliced it open with the silver penknife he kept in the first drawer below the toaster. Ryan had heard of them before, had even seen a few of the readings when they had been evidence during cases he'd worked, but he'd never known anyone that had one. And he had to use that descriptor - known.
The letter felt as if it was made of lead, the way it was weighing his hands down. The text was a standard issue Times New Roman, a default font without a hint of personalization; yeah, that was more like the Timothy Wolfe he knew. But what was written, well now that was something else.