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There was no way back as the girl walked. This young girl, with her clothes tainted in red, faltering steps and an no destiny. There was a smell of fear following her. There were screams over her shoulders. It felt like her shadow was about to cover her body.
Empty eyes looking forward, a blank expression and a tormented breath. This is what she looked like while walking, without a destiny, without anyone. Just a young girl, with her clothes tainted in red.
Small hands already worn with age grasped at the bricks in front of them. Blood constantly dripping from their tips, their owner kept fighting on. One more step. One more grasp. One more--
The owner fell back with a silent cry, fall softened by the corpses below. He rolled to the side and dusted himself off. He had to try again. He was so tantalizingly close.
Small hands reached for a brick, ready to begin anew, as their owner grit his teeth and ignored the blood staining the grey slabs red.
Fai awoke with a start, cold sweat down his neck. Nightmares were not uncommon when he was younger, but to have them now was unsettling at best. Wide blue eyes stared at scarred fingers, and while he couldn't feel them, he knew they were probably freezing with the rest of him.
He shook his head, trembling hands carding through blond locks. He would be fine. He had to be fine.
He just had to make it through one more day.
So where had she been? (Character progression drabble)
Malinda had been missing for a few weeks. Not that many noticed...
Where was she? Curdun Cay. She managed to escape however, but while she wa sthere, it was a hell like no other for her, a room of spotlights shining down on her, nullifying her shadow powers...she was trained, experimented.
But one day, one day...she had an idea, to sneak out in the shadows. Once out...she wasn't quite sure where to go, or what to do...But...she was free at last.
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It hit her while she was filing. That particular activity seemed to dominate most of her life, but perhaps it was the familiarity that kept her upright as she turned to look at her boss with the most bewildered expression on her face.
He was far too engrossed in statements and gibberish to notice her mentally breaking down. Before she could convince herself to pursue any other course of action, she picked up her coat and headed for the door.
Distantly, she heard him ask where she was going. She was so close to leaving, so close to escaping that it did not register in her mind to answer him until a moment had passed.
"I-I can't stay here." She said, biting her lip. "Please, Ty- Mister Lannister, I'll give you my resignation by the end of the week."
Meg found she could not turn the knob and leave. She owed him an explanation or something. Turning again, she gave him a tired smile.
"I-I-"
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It felt right, having him on her arm. Her knees were shaking as she walked, keeping her breathing even as she tried not to trip on her dress. Instinctively, she pulled him a bit closer to her side, and smiled a bit when he made no efforts to resist.
She often heard about how girls were supposed to get butterflies in their stomach when they were nervous, but all she could feel was tense emptiness, the exact opposite of the bubbly feeling in her heart.
She kept her eyes straight ahead, wanting to turn and look at Guy, but worried she would start to cry if she did
They reached the altar and she handed him her bouquet, moving to take the hand of the man who would soon be her husband. She didn't want him to let go of her arm, however.
Meg looked back at him, flashing Guy a smile before tilting her head upwards and standing on her toes to kiss his forehead gently. She was still beaming when she forced herself to leave him, to take her arm from his.
Perhaps if her fiancé looked at her then, he would've seen all the love on earth in her eyes, and it would have been for him. But he did not look at her, for she was too busy staring at her best friend, silently telling him that it was fine, that everything was fine.
And all the love in the world was in her eyes, and it was for Guy.
Shatter yaaasss yes yess!
Send me "Shatter" and I'll write a scene where your character breaks my character's heart.
Meg looked on, perhaps rather huffily at the display. Whoever her Doctor had come to believe he was was about to be promoted. The ceremony was lavish, with Meg fanning herself in an attempt to thwart the hot Caribbean sun. Her Doctor looked ridiculous, but also rather smart in his brocade, he even managed to impress her with his little display of swordsmanship.
She smiled, rather proud for the man she secretly loved, even if, by a strange twist of fate, he did not remember her.
She approached with caution afterwards, when he was Commodore Norrington, and waited until he was finished speaking to the Swann girl.
"-the thing all men most require: a marriage to a fine woman." Meg paused, her face falling slightly. She knew her Doctor was not himself, but he couldn't possibly be-
"-you have become a fine woman, Elizabeth." She swallowed hard, biting her lip and taking a step backwards. Her Doctor would never have entertained the idea of getting married. Life was to hectic, too wibbly-wobbly. It didn't bother Meg all that much, but what she'd just overheard did.
He was not her Doctor, but her chest hurt all the same. Against her brain's request, her eyes filled with tears. She turned and walked away before she could hear Swann's answer.
Whether he was the Doctor or James, it didn't matter. He wasn't hers anymore.
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Meg had never been one to fall asleep during a late night at the lab, but she nearly kicked herself when she started awake. She was on the floor by the, she shuddered, cage.
Close enough, she noticed, to be strangled by its inhabitant. Meg made to move away, but froze when she felt a hand in her hair. Usually she tied it up to keep it out of her eyes, but either it had fallen out or-
Or he did. The thought chilled her, but she forced herself to remain still, to give him no indication that she had woken up.
Despite her fear, Meg could not deny that Subject Alpha was gentle as she lazily dragged his fingers through her slightly mussed hair. Her felt her glasses press somewhat painfully against her nose, but she could honestly say she did not want to stir and end whatever the hell was happening between them.
She sighed and he froze, removing his hand from her head. Slowly, she sat up.
"You pet me like I'm the one who belongs in a cage." She commented, her voice as bitter as she could make it. He smirked, something she never enjoyed
"Don't you?"
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The world was a haze of dull colours and heat. Her face felt like it was on fire, her chest like it was going to collapse in on itself. Taking as deep a breath as she could, Meg coughed into her handkerchief, grimacing at the iron taste left on her tongue and now on the white material.
Despite the fever she was running, Meg pulled the blanket up around her chin, feeling a strange chil settle over the room.
Admist the unpleasantness, she felt a hand running through her hair, and she could've sworn her nausea faded, if only slightly.
"Constance?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly. Smiling weakly, Meg closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe normally and enjoy the content moment she was being given.
