After

[serai]

EEK! A drabble bunny bit my ankle on looking again at my last post. Here's what came of it.

---

After

The ice shocks my skin as he shapes the bag around my bruised wrist. Gently, with care, stroking my forearm with his other hand, not meeting my eyes yet. I lean my head against his, feel soft hair against my lips, smell sleep. It's late.

"Why?" One word, his voice rough. I can hear the pain.

"Sean, please," I beg. Not again. Not tonight.

His next breath is wet, the effort to stay calm all too clear. I ache for him, but what can I do? Say words like always, never? I promise? Lie?

"I'll get a towel," he whispers.

---

Have I mentioned how much I love my Muse lately?


Fic edited for clarity. Thanks, Singe! And thanks to Goldilocks for the conversation that knocked this fic loose. Love you, sweetie!

Comments

Re-read

[singeaddams.livejournal.com]

What's wrong with suicide? Uh, I mean, of course, literary suicide. It's still a very effective piece of dark!fic.

And no need to thank me, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with it, I was being complimentary. (Now I've got GUILT!)

Re: Re-read

[serai1.livejournal.com]

What's wrong with suicide is that it's way too far from what I was actually writing, and if the impression of it is there, then the story I was writing is gone. And that's too much leeway, as far as I'm concerned. And you didn't make me uncomfortable, far from it. You made me aware of a deficiency, which I was glad to know about. Again, I say thank you!

And go have some chocolate for your guilt. :)

Okey doke!

[singeaddams.livejournal.com]

I don't need guilt to have chocolate! Mmmm...snarf!