(no subject)
Title: Repetition
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Characters: Guy-centric, ridiculously faint Guy/Luke if you feel like it.
Genre: Musey drama.
Rating: PG
Summary: Super short drabble tiem. Guy's bordering on neurotic.
There was a sort of surrealness to a habit on the cusp of formation. The repeated motions; move, swift, forward and backward were so familiar and yet when you tried to twist your hand that way the damn thing always fell through. Wet tissue paper, a run in an old woman’s stocking. Just a small slice of disaster that did little more than annoy, but was still enough to stress over.
Guy picked up the sword and tried again.
Still, of course, he’d usually have a chorus of sounds that accompanied him when he’d first tried to form this habit. There would be the clanks and bangs of camp being set behind him, soft laughter, protests, whispered words. Smells and feelings and the knowledge of something moving at his back that he didn’t need to watch. He’d never fumbled then. He’d never stooped to scoop up his mistakes then.
Guy tried again.
Of course, now he had a few new sounds, but nothing with that whisper of comfort. There was rushing water, in the distance. Birds, unfamiliar voices, bustling movement that kept him looking over his shoulder with startled expressions. Sometimes he scared the maids.
Guy tried again.
It was nothing like a wall or a block; it was a buzzing distraction, a singer muttering a melody behind you as you tried to hum a different tune. A poet reciting work as you tried to write a letter. It wasn’t so much an irritation as it was infuriating beyond words, and his temper was frayed and withered as much as his hope was getting to be.
Guy tried again.
He would come back. He’d promised. Another mantra, another line of reiteration that kept Guy pushing onto the next day, the next week, month. How long had it been? Sometimes the days blurred, and sometimes they crawled by in isolated eternity. He wished they’d pick a pace and stick to it, so he could at least keep track. Damn inconsiderate, that’s what it was.
Guy tried again. And again. And again.
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Characters: Guy-centric, ridiculously faint Guy/Luke if you feel like it.
Genre: Musey drama.
Rating: PG
Summary: Super short drabble tiem. Guy's bordering on neurotic.
There was a sort of surrealness to a habit on the cusp of formation. The repeated motions; move, swift, forward and backward were so familiar and yet when you tried to twist your hand that way the damn thing always fell through. Wet tissue paper, a run in an old woman’s stocking. Just a small slice of disaster that did little more than annoy, but was still enough to stress over.
Guy picked up the sword and tried again.
Still, of course, he’d usually have a chorus of sounds that accompanied him when he’d first tried to form this habit. There would be the clanks and bangs of camp being set behind him, soft laughter, protests, whispered words. Smells and feelings and the knowledge of something moving at his back that he didn’t need to watch. He’d never fumbled then. He’d never stooped to scoop up his mistakes then.
Guy tried again.
Of course, now he had a few new sounds, but nothing with that whisper of comfort. There was rushing water, in the distance. Birds, unfamiliar voices, bustling movement that kept him looking over his shoulder with startled expressions. Sometimes he scared the maids.
Guy tried again.
It was nothing like a wall or a block; it was a buzzing distraction, a singer muttering a melody behind you as you tried to hum a different tune. A poet reciting work as you tried to write a letter. It wasn’t so much an irritation as it was infuriating beyond words, and his temper was frayed and withered as much as his hope was getting to be.
Guy tried again.
He would come back. He’d promised. Another mantra, another line of reiteration that kept Guy pushing onto the next day, the next week, month. How long had it been? Sometimes the days blurred, and sometimes they crawled by in isolated eternity. He wished they’d pick a pace and stick to it, so he could at least keep track. Damn inconsiderate, that’s what it was.
Guy tried again. And again. And again.