He liked to imagine, at night, that he could see the line of her travel. However, after several drinks, he could see quite a few shooting stars, or other celestial movements. He wasn't sure anymore.
Movement from the corner of his eye. Wisdom spun, one hand rearing back to launch a fusilade of hotknives. The bottle slid from his fingers, falling to the grass below, Scotch gurgling out onto the ground, forgotten.
"It's purely medicinal," he said, the back of one hand wiping across his lips. He felt numb, and wondered for a moment if he wasn't passed out, face in the dirt, dreaming this. Cast adrift on a sea of whiskey, while worms investigated his half-open mouth, waiting for Brian or Dane to find him and haul him back to the barracks.
"Heard you were gone. Out there," he said, pointing skyward. "Should've known you wouldn't be gone long."
Comments 19
Sometimes it's harder than others, though, and sometimes it's longer.
And sometimes it's just...different.
She's somewhat transparent--less there than usual--and spinning slowly, a perfect pirouette in the air.
(She's always liked to show off, it must be admitted. Especially around him.)
Reply
Movement from the corner of his eye. Wisdom spun, one hand rearing back to launch a fusilade of hotknives. The bottle slid from his fingers, falling to the grass below, Scotch gurgling out onto the ground, forgotten.
"P-Pryde?"
Reply
"Or sorta. Kinda. Definitely one of those."
There's a momentary pause as she studies him and lets herself float to the ground.
And then raises an eyebrow. "Still trying to pickle your liver?"
Reply
"Heard you were gone. Out there," he said, pointing skyward. "Should've known you wouldn't be gone long."
Reply
Leave a comment