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tamingthemuseTitle: Red's Xmas
Author: Zippit
Fandom: Original
Series: Because You're Mine
Character(s): Red (OC)
Prompt: #128 - Paltry (7.73)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,111
Disclaimer: If you recognize anyone in this piece, I am in no way affiliated with or know them personally. I am neither making a profit nor plan to do so. This is nothing more than an exercise in fiction. This is a result of an overactive imagination and I claim no truth to these words.
Author’s Note: Still need to do a few more editing passes through this. Didn't have time today.
Summary: It's all different this year.
Red's Xmas
Resist the urge to huddle into my prison issue sweatshirt when a pussy footed Los Angeles breeze cuts across my face. Been up here a while now but still ain't used to the winters. Glance around to see if anyone's looking cause this ain't the place to look any sort of weak.
It's the 25th of December and what I got to look forward to ain't what I'm used to. They'll be serving some kind of everything in the mess to be pc. Usually get a box of snacks from Kelley but either that ain't happening this year or they're lost in transit. Wasn’t nothing special but it was good to have some good cooking from North Carolina again. Just plain old southern food with no worries ‘bout getting thin or eating healthy. It’s the sort of food I missed, ‘specially ‘round the holidays. I could’ve gone back. Knew they’d love to have me, but always got swept up in some job or another or picking up shifts at the low pay minimum shit hole I worked at. That place wasn’t that bad. I got free food when they closed, but it wasn’t what I wanted to be doing.
That’s why I was always chasing after some job or another. There were plenty this time of year. Everyone looking to be the good Samaritan, just made for easy pickin’s. Yeah, the holiday season, but you gotta make your living the way you know how. Quick cash and the thrill of a job. Guess I won’t be doing that for a while, if ever ‘gain. One good thing about being in here? I got all the time to draw.
It’s not like I didn’t on the outside. It just wasn’t something I could do 24/7. Sure, I still did plenty whenever I needed to scope someplace out ahead of time. Being out there as an artist drawing the place was a sight easier to excuse than if I was just there day after day. Most people didn’t look twice if you look like you’re supposed to be there or have some decent purpose.
The yard’s empty. Not many from out of state around here so they’re all huddled inside where it’s warm. Just means there’s less chance for trouble. Head over to the benchpress and my breath mists the air. The creak of the aged wood as I lay back on the bench is the only noise out here. Shiver slightly when the cold seeps through my sweatshirt and tug my snowcap down lower. Rest of the workout equipment sits abandoned cause no one wants a reminder they ain’t home.
Gaze up at the shadow grey sky above and rest one hand behind my neck. Don’t know how long I’ve done it, but awhile now. Started sometime back in North Carolina where’d I steal outside for a few quiet moments to myself after dinner was done and everyone’s dozing into against the lingering heat of the oven. I’d watch the sky, steal a smoke or something. Sometimes I’d come back with a sketch that very night or maybe it’d take a couple days or weeks ‘fore whatever I needed to do finished itself in my head and tumbled out onto the page.
Still have every one. Usually sometime in the summer, I’d take ‘em out and look at them, to see how things’ve changed. Forget about them till Christmas rolls ‘round and I’m adding another to their number. Things got screwed up. I wasn’t supposed to be in here. It wasn’t supposed to go the way it went down. It’s bled over into this little tradition thing of mine cause just after Thanksgiving with turkey that wasn’t home cooked, I couldn’t get this damn image out of my mind.
Overall sense of the thing more than anything. Hook my legs over the bench press bar and screw what I might look like. Started sketching it here and there, I know Hawk saw some of the sketches, but they ain’t nothing like what I finally managed to finish. I know I’m good. Been told that plenty a times. I can see it for myself. But this beats it all. It’s everything I was seeing in my head and then some. It’s realer than real and there was only one person it was for.
Don’t know why but from the moment it was there complete before me, on a pristine sheet of paper, it called for Hawk. Ain’t know if he’ll even like it cause it’s…not Hawk. I’ll find out tomorrow cause I left it sitting in his rack. If he don’t beat me up for the violation of his space, I’ll know he at least liked it somewhat.
Wish I could see my old ones so I could find out what’s so different about this one than the rest. Had even less to work with and I know it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. Maybe it’s all the practice cause aside from when I need to work out and hit the track with Ray-Ray, I ain’t do nothing but draw. Feel like I should have more trouble with things cause of the limitations. Maybe it’s cause I don’t have code runnin’ through my head.
Jerk and nearly twist off the bench when a Texan named Chicago slaps the bottom of my feet. He tilts his head toward the building before heading for it himself. Take one more glance around and sigh. I miss the damn snow. Trudge toward the doorway and think about all those plans I’d had for heading to Aspen just to get out of the fucking warmth. Cause sure California has mountains but if I’m gonna take the trouble to go someplace for snow, it should be the best place for it.
Pull my cap off when I get inside and run my hand through my hair as I head toward my block. I ain’t in the same block as Hawk, but the one right next door. Won’t know till morning if my drawing will end up just another fancy gum wrapper or if he sees something in it like I do.
Everything’s just all on its head since I’ve come in here. Walk past all the cells with my head up, watching from the corner of my eye. Secrets slip when everything’s busy. Make it to my cell and curl under the covers. Nothing’s right ‘cept in that picture and I hope Hawk feels some of that tonight. It’s the one thing I can give in here. Click-click of the door rolling shut and I turn to face the wall, tracing circles on my sheets. “Merry Christmas, Hawk.”
Author: Zippit
Fandom: Original
Series: Because You're Mine
Character(s): Red (OC)
Prompt: #128 - Paltry (7.73)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,111
Disclaimer: If you recognize anyone in this piece, I am in no way affiliated with or know them personally. I am neither making a profit nor plan to do so. This is nothing more than an exercise in fiction. This is a result of an overactive imagination and I claim no truth to these words.
Author’s Note: Still need to do a few more editing passes through this. Didn't have time today.
Summary: It's all different this year.
Red's Xmas
Resist the urge to huddle into my prison issue sweatshirt when a pussy footed Los Angeles breeze cuts across my face. Been up here a while now but still ain't used to the winters. Glance around to see if anyone's looking cause this ain't the place to look any sort of weak.
It's the 25th of December and what I got to look forward to ain't what I'm used to. They'll be serving some kind of everything in the mess to be pc. Usually get a box of snacks from Kelley but either that ain't happening this year or they're lost in transit. Wasn’t nothing special but it was good to have some good cooking from North Carolina again. Just plain old southern food with no worries ‘bout getting thin or eating healthy. It’s the sort of food I missed, ‘specially ‘round the holidays. I could’ve gone back. Knew they’d love to have me, but always got swept up in some job or another or picking up shifts at the low pay minimum shit hole I worked at. That place wasn’t that bad. I got free food when they closed, but it wasn’t what I wanted to be doing.
That’s why I was always chasing after some job or another. There were plenty this time of year. Everyone looking to be the good Samaritan, just made for easy pickin’s. Yeah, the holiday season, but you gotta make your living the way you know how. Quick cash and the thrill of a job. Guess I won’t be doing that for a while, if ever ‘gain. One good thing about being in here? I got all the time to draw.
It’s not like I didn’t on the outside. It just wasn’t something I could do 24/7. Sure, I still did plenty whenever I needed to scope someplace out ahead of time. Being out there as an artist drawing the place was a sight easier to excuse than if I was just there day after day. Most people didn’t look twice if you look like you’re supposed to be there or have some decent purpose.
The yard’s empty. Not many from out of state around here so they’re all huddled inside where it’s warm. Just means there’s less chance for trouble. Head over to the benchpress and my breath mists the air. The creak of the aged wood as I lay back on the bench is the only noise out here. Shiver slightly when the cold seeps through my sweatshirt and tug my snowcap down lower. Rest of the workout equipment sits abandoned cause no one wants a reminder they ain’t home.
Gaze up at the shadow grey sky above and rest one hand behind my neck. Don’t know how long I’ve done it, but awhile now. Started sometime back in North Carolina where’d I steal outside for a few quiet moments to myself after dinner was done and everyone’s dozing into against the lingering heat of the oven. I’d watch the sky, steal a smoke or something. Sometimes I’d come back with a sketch that very night or maybe it’d take a couple days or weeks ‘fore whatever I needed to do finished itself in my head and tumbled out onto the page.
Still have every one. Usually sometime in the summer, I’d take ‘em out and look at them, to see how things’ve changed. Forget about them till Christmas rolls ‘round and I’m adding another to their number. Things got screwed up. I wasn’t supposed to be in here. It wasn’t supposed to go the way it went down. It’s bled over into this little tradition thing of mine cause just after Thanksgiving with turkey that wasn’t home cooked, I couldn’t get this damn image out of my mind.
Overall sense of the thing more than anything. Hook my legs over the bench press bar and screw what I might look like. Started sketching it here and there, I know Hawk saw some of the sketches, but they ain’t nothing like what I finally managed to finish. I know I’m good. Been told that plenty a times. I can see it for myself. But this beats it all. It’s everything I was seeing in my head and then some. It’s realer than real and there was only one person it was for.
Don’t know why but from the moment it was there complete before me, on a pristine sheet of paper, it called for Hawk. Ain’t know if he’ll even like it cause it’s…not Hawk. I’ll find out tomorrow cause I left it sitting in his rack. If he don’t beat me up for the violation of his space, I’ll know he at least liked it somewhat.
Wish I could see my old ones so I could find out what’s so different about this one than the rest. Had even less to work with and I know it’s the best thing I’ve ever done. Maybe it’s all the practice cause aside from when I need to work out and hit the track with Ray-Ray, I ain’t do nothing but draw. Feel like I should have more trouble with things cause of the limitations. Maybe it’s cause I don’t have code runnin’ through my head.
Jerk and nearly twist off the bench when a Texan named Chicago slaps the bottom of my feet. He tilts his head toward the building before heading for it himself. Take one more glance around and sigh. I miss the damn snow. Trudge toward the doorway and think about all those plans I’d had for heading to Aspen just to get out of the fucking warmth. Cause sure California has mountains but if I’m gonna take the trouble to go someplace for snow, it should be the best place for it.
Pull my cap off when I get inside and run my hand through my hair as I head toward my block. I ain’t in the same block as Hawk, but the one right next door. Won’t know till morning if my drawing will end up just another fancy gum wrapper or if he sees something in it like I do.
Everything’s just all on its head since I’ve come in here. Walk past all the cells with my head up, watching from the corner of my eye. Secrets slip when everything’s busy. Make it to my cell and curl under the covers. Nothing’s right ‘cept in that picture and I hope Hawk feels some of that tonight. It’s the one thing I can give in here. Click-click of the door rolling shut and I turn to face the wall, tracing circles on my sheets. “Merry Christmas, Hawk.”
