Sam Winchester-48-Holy Tears
Title: Shadows
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester
Prompt: 48-Holy Tears
Word Count: 367
Rating: PG13
Warnings/Spoilers: None, except it's a little weird.
Summary: Shadows slide across the walls like demons, twisting and writhing and dancing. You watch them warily; you’ve seen too many things to be comfortable in the dark.
My table can be found here
Wrapped inside a twisted world
I can't decide what is even real anymore
As though I ever knew
Tangled in these silhouettes
Floating face down in a river of regrets
And thoughts of you
Shadows slide across the walls like demons, twisting and writhing and dancing. You watch them warily; you’ve seen too many things to be comfortable in the dark. Which is strange, really, because you spend so much time in the shadows, hidden in the gloom, tangled in the tendrils of night. You used to spend your days in the sunlight, laughing and smiling and kissing… kissing her. You remember the way she looked after a long day, weary and tired and usually with a headache. You’d take her into the bedroom and gently massage her shoulders and back until she was loose and relaxed. Then you’d cook her dinner, simple because you were never good in the kitchen, and spend the night snuggled in bed.
Now, when you’re the one who’s weary and tired and with a headache, you just lay in bed and watch the shadows move across the walls. You know you must spend at least a little bit of time in the sunlight, that the night doesn’t last forever, but you can’t really remember those times. They slip and slide and bleed together until they’re nothing more than fleeting images in your mind.
Your brother’s worried about you, you can tell. He looks at you with that little frown he gets sometimes, and his voice is quiet and rough, as gentle as he can possibly be. You think you should reassure him, tell him you’re fine even though you’re not, but you don’t. You can’t help but hate him just a little bit, for dragging you back into this twisted world of shadows and blood and fear. He took you away from her, from your life with her, and now he won’t let you go again. He’s holding you here, where you don’t want to be, and you hate him for that and then hate yourself for hating him because he’s your brother and you should love him.
The shadows glide across the walls, chasing each other and moving like liquid, and you watch them warily because you know that if you take your eyes off them for just a minute, if you let your guard down for a single second, they’ll swallow you whole.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester
Prompt: 48-Holy Tears
Word Count: 367
Rating: PG13
Warnings/Spoilers: None, except it's a little weird.
Summary: Shadows slide across the walls like demons, twisting and writhing and dancing. You watch them warily; you’ve seen too many things to be comfortable in the dark.
My table can be found here
Wrapped inside a twisted world
I can't decide what is even real anymore
As though I ever knew
Tangled in these silhouettes
Floating face down in a river of regrets
And thoughts of you
Shadows slide across the walls like demons, twisting and writhing and dancing. You watch them warily; you’ve seen too many things to be comfortable in the dark. Which is strange, really, because you spend so much time in the shadows, hidden in the gloom, tangled in the tendrils of night. You used to spend your days in the sunlight, laughing and smiling and kissing… kissing her. You remember the way she looked after a long day, weary and tired and usually with a headache. You’d take her into the bedroom and gently massage her shoulders and back until she was loose and relaxed. Then you’d cook her dinner, simple because you were never good in the kitchen, and spend the night snuggled in bed.
Now, when you’re the one who’s weary and tired and with a headache, you just lay in bed and watch the shadows move across the walls. You know you must spend at least a little bit of time in the sunlight, that the night doesn’t last forever, but you can’t really remember those times. They slip and slide and bleed together until they’re nothing more than fleeting images in your mind.
Your brother’s worried about you, you can tell. He looks at you with that little frown he gets sometimes, and his voice is quiet and rough, as gentle as he can possibly be. You think you should reassure him, tell him you’re fine even though you’re not, but you don’t. You can’t help but hate him just a little bit, for dragging you back into this twisted world of shadows and blood and fear. He took you away from her, from your life with her, and now he won’t let you go again. He’s holding you here, where you don’t want to be, and you hate him for that and then hate yourself for hating him because he’s your brother and you should love him.
The shadows glide across the walls, chasing each other and moving like liquid, and you watch them warily because you know that if you take your eyes off them for just a minute, if you let your guard down for a single second, they’ll swallow you whole.