And yet again, I fail at this three-sentence thing. *sigh*
-----
Chris finds Winona on the promenade level of the station, standing against a sliver of window half-hidden behind a bulkhead and thus out of the way of tourists wanting to see the earth, the moon, and the unveiled stars. Her hand is raised toward the jewel-dusted midnight of uncharted space, a hairsbreadth away from touching the double-layered transparent aluminum that can't quite shield against the bitter chill of vacuum, and he thinks of the first time he saw her, laughing in freefall while she held his hand through an emergency patch job on the Kelvin in his first posting, fresh from Starfleet Academy and unable to quite believe she and George were serious when they invited him into their lives and their bed. But that was long ago 'in another country, and besides, the wench is dead,' he thinks, and without George's easy humor and bone-deep faith in the universe, he and Winona do nothing but sharpen each other's edges and slice to the bone
( ... )
I'm glad one of my prompts made you break the rules *g*
Fantastic angsty fill with gorgeous descriptions. I like Winona's self-awareness here and how George made them work as a trio. Losing a partner would be so hard, especially if you were trying to help someone else grieve too. I'm glad she wants him to be happy. Thank you.
I'm glad my characterization and descriptions worked for you... and yeah, grieving is one of those things unpredictable in its effects. Sometimes sharing it with another person helps; sometimes that only makes everything worse.
Reply
-----
Chris finds Winona on the promenade level of the station, standing against a sliver of window half-hidden behind a bulkhead and thus out of the way of tourists wanting to see the earth, the moon, and the unveiled stars. Her hand is raised toward the jewel-dusted midnight of uncharted space, a hairsbreadth away from touching the double-layered transparent aluminum that can't quite shield against the bitter chill of vacuum, and he thinks of the first time he saw her, laughing in freefall while she held his hand through an emergency patch job on the Kelvin in his first posting, fresh from Starfleet Academy and unable to quite believe she and George were serious when they invited him into their lives and their bed. But that was long ago 'in another country, and besides, the wench is dead,' he thinks, and without George's easy humor and bone-deep faith in the universe, he and Winona do nothing but sharpen each other's edges and slice to the bone ( ... )
Reply
Fantastic angsty fill with gorgeous descriptions. I like Winona's self-awareness here and how George made them work as a trio. Losing a partner would be so hard, especially if you were trying to help someone else grieve too. I'm glad she wants him to be happy. Thank you.
Reply
I'm glad my characterization and descriptions worked for you... and yeah, grieving is one of those things unpredictable in its effects. Sometimes sharing it with another person helps; sometimes that only makes everything worse.
Reply
Leave a comment