mindsplinters (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mindsplinters) wrote2010-03-04 12:52 am
mindsplinters) wrote2010-03-04 12:52 am
31 Days: Day Three
It's hard to write while sitting in an exceedingly baseball-themed room and being distracted by icons and time changes. Look at my icon. Look at it.
World: Film Noir
Characters: Will, Charlie
She felt him hovering just behind her shoulder but resisted the urge to turn and snap at him. It was Will; sometimes he did things just to get that response out of her. She had given up trying to decide if he was a masochist, a sadist, or just an idiot savante. Perhaps he was all three wrapped up in one increasingly fascinating package. At that thought, Charlie scowled down at the yellow legal tablet she had been consulting before tearing off the top sheet in sudden, misplaced aggression. She detected the faint sound of him starting back a step at her motion and her expression eased to a satisfied smile. Maybe he was not quite so brilliant, after all.
"So what are you really doing here?"
At the sound of his voice, the tension returned to her shoulders and she sat straighter once more as she reached for a pencil. "Is that a rhetorical question?" she asked sweetly, honey dripping from her words. "Because I think it'd be a lot better for you if it were."
His low laugh seemed to tickle the exposed back of her neck but she still did not turn. Instead, she set the pencil against paper and began drafting a new letter. "It's after five," he finally murmured. Then his hand settled flat on her desk, just barely in her field of vision if she looked all the way to the right from the corner of her eye. She felt him like a warm, slightly suffocating secret just behind her shoulder but she kept her attention on the tablet in her hands resolutely. "You're usually out the door the moment the clock strikes." He paused and she registered that his unseen hand now rested on the back of her chair, fingers far too close to her shoulder for comfort. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted and she felt a shiver down her spine. "No date tonight?"
With an audible snap, Charlie set both pad and pencil on the desk and pushed her chair back fast enough that Will had to scramble away to save his toes. She knew the moment she turned that her cheeks were too pink, lips too bitten-raw, breath too short, and he would just know why but it was too much. She was only human and he was maddening. Aggravating and infuriating and arrogant and utterly consuming. "You... You," she growled. Standing up, she pushed the chair further away before bending to yank open the lowest drawer on her desk to retrieve her purse. "I swear to everything I hold dear, William..." She straightened and met his eyes. Before she could falter, she aimed an accusatory finger at his chest. "Just stay out of my life, alright?"
Head cocked, Will took another step back and opened his mouth. She pressed her advantage, driving her finger into him once more until she could sidestep and escape the trap of him and her desk. "And stay out of my goddamn head, too." With that, she stormed past him.
It wasn't until the sound of the slamming door faded that Will started to grin, slow and dawning. "Well, hell," he muttered. "How do you like that?" Shaking his head a bit, he turned his steps towards the inner office. He was trying not to think about just how much he did, in fact, like the conclusions newly drawn. They would complicate things... But, well, hell.
World: Film Noir
Characters: Will, Charlie
She felt him hovering just behind her shoulder but resisted the urge to turn and snap at him. It was Will; sometimes he did things just to get that response out of her. She had given up trying to decide if he was a masochist, a sadist, or just an idiot savante. Perhaps he was all three wrapped up in one increasingly fascinating package. At that thought, Charlie scowled down at the yellow legal tablet she had been consulting before tearing off the top sheet in sudden, misplaced aggression. She detected the faint sound of him starting back a step at her motion and her expression eased to a satisfied smile. Maybe he was not quite so brilliant, after all.
"So what are you really doing here?"
At the sound of his voice, the tension returned to her shoulders and she sat straighter once more as she reached for a pencil. "Is that a rhetorical question?" she asked sweetly, honey dripping from her words. "Because I think it'd be a lot better for you if it were."
His low laugh seemed to tickle the exposed back of her neck but she still did not turn. Instead, she set the pencil against paper and began drafting a new letter. "It's after five," he finally murmured. Then his hand settled flat on her desk, just barely in her field of vision if she looked all the way to the right from the corner of her eye. She felt him like a warm, slightly suffocating secret just behind her shoulder but she kept her attention on the tablet in her hands resolutely. "You're usually out the door the moment the clock strikes." He paused and she registered that his unseen hand now rested on the back of her chair, fingers far too close to her shoulder for comfort. The hairs on the back of her neck lifted and she felt a shiver down her spine. "No date tonight?"
With an audible snap, Charlie set both pad and pencil on the desk and pushed her chair back fast enough that Will had to scramble away to save his toes. She knew the moment she turned that her cheeks were too pink, lips too bitten-raw, breath too short, and he would just know why but it was too much. She was only human and he was maddening. Aggravating and infuriating and arrogant and utterly consuming. "You... You," she growled. Standing up, she pushed the chair further away before bending to yank open the lowest drawer on her desk to retrieve her purse. "I swear to everything I hold dear, William..." She straightened and met his eyes. Before she could falter, she aimed an accusatory finger at his chest. "Just stay out of my life, alright?"
Head cocked, Will took another step back and opened his mouth. She pressed her advantage, driving her finger into him once more until she could sidestep and escape the trap of him and her desk. "And stay out of my goddamn head, too." With that, she stormed past him.
It wasn't until the sound of the slamming door faded that Will started to grin, slow and dawning. "Well, hell," he muttered. "How do you like that?" Shaking his head a bit, he turned his steps towards the inner office. He was trying not to think about just how much he did, in fact, like the conclusions newly drawn. They would complicate things... But, well, hell.
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BOY, YOUR LOVE IS ALL I THINK ABOUT
Oh wait Charlie isn't exactly happy about this development.
I love how you never pull your punches with Will, which is so very important considering how Fyre explained him. And obviously Charlie wasn't pulling anything here, and I loved to see her emotionally stuck between that rock and hard place with no option except to blow up both. Funny how these few paragraphs were able to tell so much.
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