[off*beat] challenge 12: tory/colin
Title: Undefined and Reckless
Fandom: Off*Beat
Pairing: Tory / Colin
Word Count: 601
Challenge: 12. “Set Fire to the Streets”
They’re just two teenagers. Stupid and rebellious, leap before they look, reckless and… undefined. Sixteen years is not enough time to shape a person completely, but that’s alright, because the both of them know they aren’t entirely complete anyway. Of course, the two incompletes aren’t, at the moment, conscious of anything in the world other than what directly effects them. Tory’s sneakers skid on the sidewalk as the both of them take the night in stride. Colin looks at his watch, he’s quieter than normal, and wonders if being outside at eleven at night is going to call too much attention to the both of them. Of course not, that’s Tory speaking, plenty of people walk around this late at night. Especially in a city like Manhattan. Even though Colin is not convinced, while he stares at the face on his wrist, he really watches Tory’s shoes and how the both of them had fallen in step.
The redhead calls his attention. What does he want now? But it’s not like Colin really minds that much- walking and “talking” with his, probably, only friend. Maybe it’s good for him. It’s not as if he knew a lot of other kids at school, and Mandy was more of Tory’s friend than his. He decides that Tory is more important than the lifeless watch, and he looks up to the sidewalk and tilts his head at the other to let him know that he is listening. Suddenly it’s cold. Come on, he says, I’m tired of walking.
Well, what the hell else are they going to do this late at night?-is all that Colin can think, but instead his eyes drift opposite of his friend. What, then? Simple. Has to be simple. Can’t say too much.
Tory looks directly at the boy with black hair, which makes Colin immediately look back, but sort of off to the side and behind him rather than right at his eyes. He’s taller.
Let’s go. That’s how Tory responds.
To where?
Doesn’t matter. He grins, taking his hands out of his pockets and the beanie off of his head; his hair is alike to a beacon. But we have to run there.
Why? Colin wonders if he runs, if he’ll have a relapse. But that’s not the forethought like it should be.
Because. The red-head’s grin sort of transforms to a little smile. We have to. Tory feels his imagination running wild again-isn’t that only supposed to happen when he’s sleeping?-and he thinks that Colin won’t get the logic that he feels is perfect. If we don’t run, Tory continues, they’ll catch us. But he doesn’t bother to explain who ‘they’ is, even though the whole story is already running through his mind like a show in theaters.
Colin wouldn’t run for anyone. He wants to tell the red-head that’s absolutely stupid and he needs to get some sleep. Or get his head out of the clouds. Or get his stupid books and remind himself to put his wild imagination to rest before it kills him. Digging his own grave with that mind of his; seriously. But as soon as Tory stops talking, he takes off, instead. The sidewalk is big enough for the both of them to be side-by-side, so it’s perfect for a race. Or running away from the ‘bad guys’ that really only exist in Tory’s own mind.
Undefined and reckless, leap before they look, rebellious and… stupid. They’re just two teenagers. But right now, they’re two teenagers with flames on their heels as their feet set fire to the streets.
Fandom: Off*Beat
Pairing: Tory / Colin
Word Count: 601
Challenge: 12. “Set Fire to the Streets”
They’re just two teenagers. Stupid and rebellious, leap before they look, reckless and… undefined. Sixteen years is not enough time to shape a person completely, but that’s alright, because the both of them know they aren’t entirely complete anyway. Of course, the two incompletes aren’t, at the moment, conscious of anything in the world other than what directly effects them. Tory’s sneakers skid on the sidewalk as the both of them take the night in stride. Colin looks at his watch, he’s quieter than normal, and wonders if being outside at eleven at night is going to call too much attention to the both of them. Of course not, that’s Tory speaking, plenty of people walk around this late at night. Especially in a city like Manhattan. Even though Colin is not convinced, while he stares at the face on his wrist, he really watches Tory’s shoes and how the both of them had fallen in step.
The redhead calls his attention. What does he want now? But it’s not like Colin really minds that much- walking and “talking” with his, probably, only friend. Maybe it’s good for him. It’s not as if he knew a lot of other kids at school, and Mandy was more of Tory’s friend than his. He decides that Tory is more important than the lifeless watch, and he looks up to the sidewalk and tilts his head at the other to let him know that he is listening. Suddenly it’s cold. Come on, he says, I’m tired of walking.
Well, what the hell else are they going to do this late at night?-is all that Colin can think, but instead his eyes drift opposite of his friend. What, then? Simple. Has to be simple. Can’t say too much.
Tory looks directly at the boy with black hair, which makes Colin immediately look back, but sort of off to the side and behind him rather than right at his eyes. He’s taller.
Let’s go. That’s how Tory responds.
To where?
Doesn’t matter. He grins, taking his hands out of his pockets and the beanie off of his head; his hair is alike to a beacon. But we have to run there.
Why? Colin wonders if he runs, if he’ll have a relapse. But that’s not the forethought like it should be.
Because. The red-head’s grin sort of transforms to a little smile. We have to. Tory feels his imagination running wild again-isn’t that only supposed to happen when he’s sleeping?-and he thinks that Colin won’t get the logic that he feels is perfect. If we don’t run, Tory continues, they’ll catch us. But he doesn’t bother to explain who ‘they’ is, even though the whole story is already running through his mind like a show in theaters.
Colin wouldn’t run for anyone. He wants to tell the red-head that’s absolutely stupid and he needs to get some sleep. Or get his head out of the clouds. Or get his stupid books and remind himself to put his wild imagination to rest before it kills him. Digging his own grave with that mind of his; seriously. But as soon as Tory stops talking, he takes off, instead. The sidewalk is big enough for the both of them to be side-by-side, so it’s perfect for a race. Or running away from the ‘bad guys’ that really only exist in Tory’s own mind.
Undefined and reckless, leap before they look, rebellious and… stupid. They’re just two teenagers. But right now, they’re two teenagers with flames on their heels as their feet set fire to the streets.