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tamingthemuseTitle: He didn't say a thing
Fandom: Original
Prompt #409 Andalusite
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 680
The necklace was stolen, obviously, but he didn't say a thing. She would deny, or brush it off like it was stupid of him to even ask. She was not likely to confess, and even less to bring it back. Or pay it, but he knew she couldn't afford it.
Beside, the greenish gem with its fiery ends suited her perfectly.
"Where are we going?", she asked later, as she entered his car, a little out of breath. She had told him she had had permission to go out with him tonight, but from her state of excitement and the way she looked furtively at her house, he was beginning to doubt it. The fact she hadn't come out from the main entrance was also a not-so-subtle giveaway. Yet he didn't say a thing.
"Ice-cream first, then wherever you want to go", he replied, all soft and happy, the way he felt when he was with her.
She grinned, and laced their fingers on the handbrake. "What are we waiting for?"
He'd told his parents he was spending the night at a friend. He had negotiated with that friend to be sure is cover would be solid. She had probably just gone out of her window, and if they got back at her place early enough, nobody would realize she hadn't spent the night there.
She didn't look like she was that much trouble when she was asleep. White soft skin, dark velvety hair, red plump lips. A Disney princess in an anonymous motel room.
She was nearly an hour late when she climbed in the car. Her breath was uneven, her look was messy, and a finger mark was slowly turning blue on her wrist. She covered it before he could have a good look at it, but he has already seen that before. She smiled teasingly at him, like she always did when there was something she didn't want him to see. The way her eyes lit up and got creased at the corner always grabbed his attention. It didn't mean he didn't see things, though. He saw every single one of them, all those little evidences that she was trouble after all. She never distracted him from them : he is the one who chose not to read them.
"Where are we going?", she asked without mentioning her lateness.
He bit his lips, thought about saying something. But saying something would mean break the shell. And he knew she didn't want him on the other side.
"Ice-cream first, then wherever you want to go", he replied instead, putting all the angst aside to bask in the happiness a little bit longer.
She leaned back on her car seat. She looked relieved. "What are we waiting for?"
All she left behind was a note and the greenish gem with its fiery ends. The note didn't give any explanation. It didn't even say "goodbye". But somehow he understood.
Later, he would pretend he didn't know anything. He would say they had never spoken about anything that would explain why she had left. That part was true, but still it was a lie. He knew. He had seen every single one of the little evidences. All those tiny things that added up and added up and ultimately formed the overwhelming mess that was on the other side of the shell.
Some would say they had known all along she was trouble. Some would ask him if it had come as a surprise. It wasn't a surprise, not really, it was more of a dreaded, and yet unavoidable end. He would wonder if he should have have said something, if it would have changed anything. He would wonder where she was, what she was doing. If she would come back. He would think about it in the dead of the night, clunching the necklace that was all that was left of her.
And then at the break of the day, he would move, go back to his normal life, and he wouldn't say a thing. There was nothing left to say.
Fandom: Original
Prompt #409 Andalusite
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 680
The necklace was stolen, obviously, but he didn't say a thing. She would deny, or brush it off like it was stupid of him to even ask. She was not likely to confess, and even less to bring it back. Or pay it, but he knew she couldn't afford it.
Beside, the greenish gem with its fiery ends suited her perfectly.
"Where are we going?", she asked later, as she entered his car, a little out of breath. She had told him she had had permission to go out with him tonight, but from her state of excitement and the way she looked furtively at her house, he was beginning to doubt it. The fact she hadn't come out from the main entrance was also a not-so-subtle giveaway. Yet he didn't say a thing.
"Ice-cream first, then wherever you want to go", he replied, all soft and happy, the way he felt when he was with her.
She grinned, and laced their fingers on the handbrake. "What are we waiting for?"
He'd told his parents he was spending the night at a friend. He had negotiated with that friend to be sure is cover would be solid. She had probably just gone out of her window, and if they got back at her place early enough, nobody would realize she hadn't spent the night there.
She didn't look like she was that much trouble when she was asleep. White soft skin, dark velvety hair, red plump lips. A Disney princess in an anonymous motel room.
She was nearly an hour late when she climbed in the car. Her breath was uneven, her look was messy, and a finger mark was slowly turning blue on her wrist. She covered it before he could have a good look at it, but he has already seen that before. She smiled teasingly at him, like she always did when there was something she didn't want him to see. The way her eyes lit up and got creased at the corner always grabbed his attention. It didn't mean he didn't see things, though. He saw every single one of them, all those little evidences that she was trouble after all. She never distracted him from them : he is the one who chose not to read them.
"Where are we going?", she asked without mentioning her lateness.
He bit his lips, thought about saying something. But saying something would mean break the shell. And he knew she didn't want him on the other side.
"Ice-cream first, then wherever you want to go", he replied instead, putting all the angst aside to bask in the happiness a little bit longer.
She leaned back on her car seat. She looked relieved. "What are we waiting for?"
All she left behind was a note and the greenish gem with its fiery ends. The note didn't give any explanation. It didn't even say "goodbye". But somehow he understood.
Later, he would pretend he didn't know anything. He would say they had never spoken about anything that would explain why she had left. That part was true, but still it was a lie. He knew. He had seen every single one of the little evidences. All those tiny things that added up and added up and ultimately formed the overwhelming mess that was on the other side of the shell.
Some would say they had known all along she was trouble. Some would ask him if it had come as a surprise. It wasn't a surprise, not really, it was more of a dreaded, and yet unavoidable end. He would wonder if he should have have said something, if it would have changed anything. He would wonder where she was, what she was doing. If she would come back. He would think about it in the dead of the night, clunching the necklace that was all that was left of her.
And then at the break of the day, he would move, go back to his normal life, and he wouldn't say a thing. There was nothing left to say.
