Olympics Fic Sprint Final
Title- Over the Fence
Rated/warnings- K plus and contains fem!america
Word count- 1,038
Summary- Arthur realises that the grass is sometimes greener than you think on the other side of the fence
A/N- I wanted to write something longer considering it is the final, but I was playing fairy godmother and couldn't xD hope this is alright, I stretched the theme a little D:
|Over the Fence|
Arthur stared over the fence at the girl on her own unkempt, weed covered lawn.
Her rags of clothes hung to her limp body and her snoring was far too loud for a tiny girl or any girl in general and her clothes were far too boyish. Her hair was short and a mass of curls and kinks that made Arthur want to get a brush to it even if he just made it frizz. The daisy chain she wore around her head was in tatters like the hem of her shirt and her chin had a small cut that was brown and red in colour and stood out against her tanned skin.
Arthur scowled. His mother would have never allowed him to go outside the door looking like such a sight lest someone saw him and he made a show of the family. His hems were all perfect and his hair, untameable as it may be, was brushed to the stage that it had not one knot to be noticed and the only thing to complain about, which his mother often did, was the way it stuck up at odd angles when brushed.
The girl made a short noise in her sleep, a gasping sound that startled Arthur enough to make him loose his footing from where he was standing between the fence’s palings and fall into the girl’s garden with a surprised yelp. He hit his head hard against the ground and let out a loud groan before hushing himself up against the grass in terror at being caught trespassing and snooping. He held his breath as he listened to see if the girl stirred. However, he heard another heavy snore erupt from her chest so he knew he could breathe easy as he struggled to sit himself up off the muddy ground, scowling at his no longer perfect shorts and no longer uncut knees.
Now that he was this much closer to the girl, on this side of the fence, he could see her little face more clearly. Her eyelids fluttered every time she breathed out and they stilled when she breathed in. Her knotted hair fitted softly over her forehead in a short fringe that tickled her eyelashes that were inhumanly long. Her long top effort was embroidered, by hand by the looks of it. Probably of sentimental value and, upon closer inspection, it wasn’t so tattered at all after all. The daisies around her head were all freshly picked and it was obviously freshly made.
Arthur only realised how close he was when he caught himself reaching to touch the daisies. He yanked his hand back with a short gap before covering his mouth with his hands. The girl didn’t stir.
He looked around the garden. The weeds and reeds that looked overgrown from across the fence looked endearing this close up. He could imagine this wild little girl hiding under the tangled bushes and playing through the long grass. He wondered if the house, dirty whitewashed stone walls, was homely inside. He wondered if there was allowed to be toys on the floor and if her mother cooked. Arthur’s house was spotless and it didn’t feel like a home because of it; he felt like he was in a show house most of the time and everything had to be perfect. He wished he was allowed outside more often so he would have a chance to see the garden being used, even just once, by this girl.
Arthur didn’t like his shorts anymore. It didn’t matter that they were perfectly ironed with a decent crease down the middle of them. It didn’t matter that they had a perfectly sewn hem because he would not have been put out in them if they hadn’t. He didn’t like his shirt either. It was too starched and itched his skin and he didn’t like how he could never complain about it lest he be told off for being ungrateful and spoilt which he was sure he was. His shoes were shined and his hair as brushed as could be, but, on this side of the fence, he didn’t like it.
He wanted to be able to run with hardly a care in the world in through those reeds and weeds. He wanted to be able to fall and get dirty even if was just for the sake of it regardless of whether he wanted to do it or not and regardless as to whether or not he had any interest in the outdoors or not; he wanted the option. He wanted to make a daisy chain that was better than this girl’s monstrosity of a one and wanted her to be the one to teach him how. He wanted to be a child on this side of the fence instead of the china doll on the other.
He reached out to touch the daisy chain but this time was startled by the shouts of his mother from the doorstep of his perfectly imperfect house. He felt his heart stop and he raced over to the fence, clambering over it with as much grace as an overweight seal. He came from behind the bush that cleverly masked his ventures and his mother spotted him and he could tell from the glower he was receiving that she had also noticed his scraped knees and muddy shorts.
His heart plummeted and he looked over to where the girl was stirring in the grass, picking herself up and facing the other way, not seeing him. He should have never thought he could ever play with her. He couldn’t even hop the fence with any dignity let alone play with such a carefree attitude that she was displaying as she giggled and jumped in mud puddles as she made her way to her house where she undoubtedly would have homemade cookies and a warm smile.
As he sullenly made his way to his mother, dragging one foot after the other with as much enthusiasm to movement that he could possibly achieve, he realised that even if there was only a simple fence between them, him and Amelia Jones could not be further apart.
|END|