[Fic] No Question Where She Stands
It was stupid, silly--a teapot in the shape of a chicken. Stupid. Matt knew it, and he could care less. he didn't even drink tea, but the brightly colored teapot brightened up the kitchen while he waited for her to return.
She had bought it for him--Katya had, after some archangels had gotten their hands on him during a brawl. An apology gift, she said, for not protecting him. That was sort of a joke--a Katya joke. It was her way of telling him he was stupid, but she still cared for him. That had been the peak, before everything spiraled out of control.
She was gone now, but she would be back--he had been so sure. Katya wouldn't have abandoned him, and in the meantime he made his first cup of tea to stave off the trembling. He had spilled boiling water all over his hand, and instead of screaming he smiled--she had to come back now.
She wasn't coming back. He was half out of it with crazy, but he had been able to glean that much from the distorted phone call. At first he had refused to believe it--the caller hadn't identified themselves, so who were they to say she was dead?
Except one month stretched into three and he was barely functional and she still hadn't come back. He didn't know about dead, but she definitely wasn't coming back. She had abandoned him, somehow.
So he took that teapot and he used it to smash the landlord over the head, then took a shard and slit the overweight man's throat with it, letting the fear and pain wash over him in waves. He collapsed back once the deed was done and squeezed his hand around the shard, his eyelids flickering.
"Fuck you," he muttered to Katya, who was out there somewhere. "Fuck you."
Muse: Matt Jenkins
Word count: 306 words
Prompt: household objects--for writingchatthingy
She had bought it for him--Katya had, after some archangels had gotten their hands on him during a brawl. An apology gift, she said, for not protecting him. That was sort of a joke--a Katya joke. It was her way of telling him he was stupid, but she still cared for him. That had been the peak, before everything spiraled out of control.
She was gone now, but she would be back--he had been so sure. Katya wouldn't have abandoned him, and in the meantime he made his first cup of tea to stave off the trembling. He had spilled boiling water all over his hand, and instead of screaming he smiled--she had to come back now.
She wasn't coming back. He was half out of it with crazy, but he had been able to glean that much from the distorted phone call. At first he had refused to believe it--the caller hadn't identified themselves, so who were they to say she was dead?
Except one month stretched into three and he was barely functional and she still hadn't come back. He didn't know about dead, but she definitely wasn't coming back. She had abandoned him, somehow.
So he took that teapot and he used it to smash the landlord over the head, then took a shard and slit the overweight man's throat with it, letting the fear and pain wash over him in waves. He collapsed back once the deed was done and squeezed his hand around the shard, his eyelids flickering.
"Fuck you," he muttered to Katya, who was out there somewhere. "Fuck you."
Muse: Matt Jenkins
Word count: 306 words
Prompt: household objects--for writingchatthingy