[August 1] [Original] At the Door
I haven't been writing so I need to find my voice again. Forgive the stiffness. Am going for quantity this month, so most will be first drafts written on the commuter train.
So. Written for 31 days. No series, just a short I came up with on the fly.
Title: At the Door
Day/Theme: August 1 / Who knocks at my heart?
Series: Orignal
Character/Pairing: Original
Rating: PG
Word Count: 534
She paced around the coffee table of her tiny living room, her feet padding unheard on the rough rug.
In time with her steps came the soft knock, knock, knock on her apartment door. Around and around she went, hugging herself as if it would make the incessant tapping go away. She'd tried turning on the TV and blasting the radio but no amount of noise could drown out the rhythm that no one else could hear.
So she went around in silence. Maybe it would think she'd escaped. Maybe it would give up if she were quiet enough.
She tipped over onto the floor, almost knocking a pile of candles off the table with her. Immediately, she propped herself up on her elbows, her short hair awry, and listened. There was no sound. Her feet must have automatically stopped the moment the knocking had ceased.
The door wasn't very far and yet each slow step she took toward it took minutes, hours, ages. Placing her hand on the flaking door knob, she tiptoed to steal a glimpse through the peephole. Nothing was there, but she'd been fooled that way before.
Sure enough, the knocking started again. It was slower. It was tiring as she was. Whether it was out of pity for it or herself, she decided it was time to end this stalemate.
Gripping the door knob firmly, steeling her heart even more so, she opened the door.
It stood there as she feared, fully transformed, a towering mass of mane and muscle. Its eyes were round as marbles and as unnatural as it was, it still looked like his eyes. It reached out an imploring hand but all she could see was the way the thick hair faded into its human wrist, see how it had feet when its head suggested it should have hoofs.
She cringed, waiting for it to cross the threshold, but of course it couldn't. The candles still burned bright behind her.
"I can't let you in." She told him - it.
It whinnied sadly. She tried not to watch as its fur fell away and its face shrank into itself until he looked as he did that first time, human but wrong somehow. Why hadn't she seen it then?
"I still know what you are." She said icily. "I can't forget that."
He reached a finger through the ward, pushing through a tip though the ward crackled fiercely and set his hair afloat. He looked at her with those eyes, steadily as he'd always done when she thought the world was ending. She hadn't known then how trivial those matters had been.
"I didn't ask you to." he said, pointing the tip at her. "Will you let me in, now?"
"No." she replied. She pushed his finger out with her own but found herself being pulled along with him, out, out into the hall where there was no protection, no hiding, nothing but him and her, together.
He gaped at her, surprised. "I didn't plan this part."
She laughed despite herself, even as he - it - he hugged her.
So. Written for 31 days. No series, just a short I came up with on the fly.
Title: At the Door
Day/Theme: August 1 / Who knocks at my heart?
Series: Orignal
Character/Pairing: Original
Rating: PG
Word Count: 534
She paced around the coffee table of her tiny living room, her feet padding unheard on the rough rug.
In time with her steps came the soft knock, knock, knock on her apartment door. Around and around she went, hugging herself as if it would make the incessant tapping go away. She'd tried turning on the TV and blasting the radio but no amount of noise could drown out the rhythm that no one else could hear.
So she went around in silence. Maybe it would think she'd escaped. Maybe it would give up if she were quiet enough.
She tipped over onto the floor, almost knocking a pile of candles off the table with her. Immediately, she propped herself up on her elbows, her short hair awry, and listened. There was no sound. Her feet must have automatically stopped the moment the knocking had ceased.
The door wasn't very far and yet each slow step she took toward it took minutes, hours, ages. Placing her hand on the flaking door knob, she tiptoed to steal a glimpse through the peephole. Nothing was there, but she'd been fooled that way before.
Sure enough, the knocking started again. It was slower. It was tiring as she was. Whether it was out of pity for it or herself, she decided it was time to end this stalemate.
Gripping the door knob firmly, steeling her heart even more so, she opened the door.
It stood there as she feared, fully transformed, a towering mass of mane and muscle. Its eyes were round as marbles and as unnatural as it was, it still looked like his eyes. It reached out an imploring hand but all she could see was the way the thick hair faded into its human wrist, see how it had feet when its head suggested it should have hoofs.
She cringed, waiting for it to cross the threshold, but of course it couldn't. The candles still burned bright behind her.
"I can't let you in." She told him - it.
It whinnied sadly. She tried not to watch as its fur fell away and its face shrank into itself until he looked as he did that first time, human but wrong somehow. Why hadn't she seen it then?
"I still know what you are." She said icily. "I can't forget that."
He reached a finger through the ward, pushing through a tip though the ward crackled fiercely and set his hair afloat. He looked at her with those eyes, steadily as he'd always done when she thought the world was ending. She hadn't known then how trivial those matters had been.
"I didn't ask you to." he said, pointing the tip at her. "Will you let me in, now?"
"No." she replied. She pushed his finger out with her own but found herself being pulled along with him, out, out into the hall where there was no protection, no hiding, nothing but him and her, together.
He gaped at her, surprised. "I didn't plan this part."
She laughed despite herself, even as he - it - he hugged her.