[writerverse "drabble a day" challenge drabbles]
currently includes (1) korra'verse drabble featuring an oc with no name who doesn't matter; (1) akagi&/fukunaga feelsy thing; (1) original drabble
From the moment he’s consciously aware of his existence, there’s something perceptibly wrong. The way that people look at him, act around him. There’s something about him that’s different; incorrect.
It doesn’t take him until he’s able to speak, able to convey his thoughts and concerns to others, to understand what that something is.
Everyone that he’s ever met, ever known, can do fantastic things with the most basic elements of the earth. But he’s the exception.
No one is unkind, but he grows up bitter all the same.
He becomes an equalist, and doesn’t look back. It’s not for the ideology - he’s just tired of being the flaw.
**
All her emotions are exaggerated; ridiculously over-the-top.
The way that she hates Yokoya is passionate; unquestioned. The way she likes Akiyama is quiet, but still present. The way she likes Nao and tries to pretend otherwise is transparent, almost endearing.
But when it comes to you, her feelings are nonexistent; neutral.
She knows you exist, you’re there. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t like or dislike you; doesn’t bother to.
And it shouldn’t matter - technically, it really doesn’t - but at the same time, it does.
Except, what can you do?
You tag along, you take up space. You try to help however they can use you.
It doesn’t matter.
**
He kisses her goodbye, but he doesn’t mean - goodbye. He means, see you soon (probably). He means, I’ll be back before you know it (most likely). He means, don’t move on (except he already has).
He comes back, and she’s happy. Happier, even, than he can ever remember that she was with him (he’s just bitter). She’s happy, and - not in a relationship (it’s nothing like that, she says, blushing), but not exactly single (and not his, either).
“What about us?” he asks, smooth and charming (and she always used to love him).
She smiles, ruefully, and repeats, “What about us?” like she knows the answer (and so does he).
From the moment he’s consciously aware of his existence, there’s something perceptibly wrong. The way that people look at him, act around him. There’s something about him that’s different; incorrect.
It doesn’t take him until he’s able to speak, able to convey his thoughts and concerns to others, to understand what that something is.
Everyone that he’s ever met, ever known, can do fantastic things with the most basic elements of the earth. But he’s the exception.
No one is unkind, but he grows up bitter all the same.
He becomes an equalist, and doesn’t look back. It’s not for the ideology - he’s just tired of being the flaw.
**
All her emotions are exaggerated; ridiculously over-the-top.
The way that she hates Yokoya is passionate; unquestioned. The way she likes Akiyama is quiet, but still present. The way she likes Nao and tries to pretend otherwise is transparent, almost endearing.
But when it comes to you, her feelings are nonexistent; neutral.
She knows you exist, you’re there. But she doesn’t care. She doesn’t like or dislike you; doesn’t bother to.
And it shouldn’t matter - technically, it really doesn’t - but at the same time, it does.
Except, what can you do?
You tag along, you take up space. You try to help however they can use you.
It doesn’t matter.
**
He kisses her goodbye, but he doesn’t mean - goodbye. He means, see you soon (probably). He means, I’ll be back before you know it (most likely). He means, don’t move on (except he already has).
He comes back, and she’s happy. Happier, even, than he can ever remember that she was with him (he’s just bitter). She’s happy, and - not in a relationship (it’s nothing like that, she says, blushing), but not exactly single (and not his, either).
“What about us?” he asks, smooth and charming (and she always used to love him).
She smiles, ruefully, and repeats, “What about us?” like she knows the answer (and so does he).