night shift — lux & will
Jun 11, 2022 3:04:39 GMT -5
Post by lucius branwen / 10 — fox on Jun 11, 2022 3:04:39 GMT -5
W I L L E M
Eyes of a little beast, the red of the clock glows in the dark and blinks at him. He runs his fingers over Vincent's compass, resting his chin on his pillow, and watches the time pass.
It's very quiet here. At night in District Four, he could hear the tides of the ocean and foxes in the backyard, sounds that curled up in his chest, warm and soft, until they made him drowsy.
He found himself floating in the pools of the training center alone in the evenings after dinner, the water lit crystal by a million lights embedded between the tiles, chlorine burning in the back of his throat. And he would sit by the trapping station during the day and tie and untie knots, over-under-over again. There was a reef knot, there was a bowline and two half hitches.
He still remembers the way his father had taught him. "The rabbit comes out of the hole, goes around the back of the tree, and then jumps back into the hole," he would say, his hands over Will's, and he liked imagining the end of the rope with a pink nose. He could not forget it.
What was wrong with him?
He came here to impress, didn't he?
Compass still in his hands, he rolls over to lie on his back. The metal feels warm, burning like a star. Out from the hall, there's a door opening and closing somewhere, footfall and then quiet again.
Then, there's a loud thud against the door.
Hmm. Derecho, he thinks. Some part of him wonders mildly if he's being murdered tonight. But he turns on the bedside lamp, rolls out of bed, and pulls a sweatshirt over his head. Palm on the cool metal handle, he pauses for a second. And he's not sure what he expects to see, but –
Lux Bellisario's falling through the door frame.
Okay.
That's strange.
A moment later, he's become a crutch, her weight against him as she steadies herself. She smells like strawberry cough medicine, like fruit spoiling in the grass of their gardens on a hot summer day. She looks like a ghost. And she might've been, if it weren't for the strain of holding her up.
And Will just stands there, Lux leaned on him, craning his neck to look out in the hall for an avox. But no one's there, and she seems like she's dying a death of many. "Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?" Gently, he pushes her off of him. And then, more firmly, "Okay. Let's sit down."
It's very quiet here. At night in District Four, he could hear the tides of the ocean and foxes in the backyard, sounds that curled up in his chest, warm and soft, until they made him drowsy.
He found himself floating in the pools of the training center alone in the evenings after dinner, the water lit crystal by a million lights embedded between the tiles, chlorine burning in the back of his throat. And he would sit by the trapping station during the day and tie and untie knots, over-under-over again. There was a reef knot, there was a bowline and two half hitches.
He still remembers the way his father had taught him. "The rabbit comes out of the hole, goes around the back of the tree, and then jumps back into the hole," he would say, his hands over Will's, and he liked imagining the end of the rope with a pink nose. He could not forget it.
What was wrong with him?
He came here to impress, didn't he?
Compass still in his hands, he rolls over to lie on his back. The metal feels warm, burning like a star. Out from the hall, there's a door opening and closing somewhere, footfall and then quiet again.
Then, there's a loud thud against the door.
Hmm. Derecho, he thinks. Some part of him wonders mildly if he's being murdered tonight. But he turns on the bedside lamp, rolls out of bed, and pulls a sweatshirt over his head. Palm on the cool metal handle, he pauses for a second. And he's not sure what he expects to see, but –
Lux Bellisario's falling through the door frame.
Okay.
That's strange.
A moment later, he's become a crutch, her weight against him as she steadies herself. She smells like strawberry cough medicine, like fruit spoiling in the grass of their gardens on a hot summer day. She looks like a ghost. And she might've been, if it weren't for the strain of holding her up.
And Will just stands there, Lux leaned on him, craning his neck to look out in the hall for an avox. But no one's there, and she seems like she's dying a death of many. "Are you okay? Do you want to sit down?" Gently, he pushes her off of him. And then, more firmly, "Okay. Let's sit down."
