I'm responding to an open tag from @new-royston-cursebreakers! Check out his post here.
Rules: Find five lines based on the prompts, then change one prompt at the end for whomever does it next.
My prompts were:
A line said to an enemy:
“Might?” one of the other females said. Her tone was as sharp as a knife. “Your kind traveled so far for “might”?”
“Yes, it would seem if your planet is ill, then your time has come to its end,” said the other in agreement, voice high and reedy.
Hannah balked. They spoke so callously. She didn’t know what she had been expecting.
“Please, there are so many people at risk—children.”
A line said with fondness:
“You’re a terrible dancer. You’re too stiff.”
“I know,” Hannah gritted out between her teeth. “There is a reason I told you no. Now you have me out here looking like a fool.”
“Dramatic, Hannah,” V chided, voice soft. “No one is looking at you.”
A line that is whispered:
“I hope to see home again,” Hannah whispered. “If I can’t reach anyone, I’ll be stuck here. They won’t come for me.” She knew this with certainty. A rescue mission for a soldier light years away would use too many resources and cost too much money.
A line that hurts:
“It is my fault,” V repeated, standing tall.
Hannah hauled Abraham up under one arm while Stratton grabbed the other. She met V's eyes head-on. Her heart felt cold. It was not enough that he was willing to take the blame. Because truly, once trust was broken, any amount of scrabbling and pleading could not restore it. The relationship would never be the same. “You don’t deserve to be a martyr.”
A line that is shouted:
"Wait! No!" she shouted, voice muffled, as Abraham broke the seal and bolted upright. Icy fear ran down her spine as she braced herself to see her best friend suffocate to death in the merciless space air. Instead, his lanky body was already across the small room, working on freeing Hannah from her bed. Finally, the suction released, and she surged upwards, folding into his embrace. His tight grip back and his desperate iteration of her given name — Ha-Eun — was her only indication that he was more scared than she had ever seen him before.
I'll be tagging @em-dashes, @every-eye-evermore, @finchwrites along with an open tag. Your prompts are:
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thank you to @saintedseraph! i'm tagging @interroblog, @ijustwritehonestly, @trixies-show, @italiangothicwriteblr, @meerawrites, @wintherlywords
your words are: breathe, sunlight, grief, rain
my words were: dark, light, dawn, and dusk!
DARK
"After that, I didn’t dare cry. I squashed down all the messiest of my feelings and emotions and sequestered them away. It was not easy, but neither was the heartache. So, I kept them all in a safe, dark place within myself. It was dangerous to possess feelings, so I didn’t. I’ve come to believe that there is something dark, something inherently wrong, that lies just below the surface of my skin. It permeates the lining of my organs and chokes them out until they are cancerous, calcified relics of the little laughing girl I barely remember." - bean sidhe WIP
LIGHT
"It was quiet when they stepped outside. With its enormous green rings, the larger-than-life moon took up much of the sky. On the opposite horizon, the first tendrils of sunlight were peeking over. It cast the garden with strange pockets of both shadow and morning light. There was still a chill in the air. V was correct—it was a peaceful place to think and have the opportunity to soothe her fears." - Earth Enduring
DAWN
"In the dawn haze, his form looked more human than ever—more like her. Hannah pinned her focus to his furry, ridiculous ears and used them to ground herself. He might be different from her physically, but he still understood her human need for presence more than platitudes." - Earth Enduring
Unsurprising to no one, I didn’t shed a tear. I became known as the Ice Queen, the Untouchable—a scourge and blight on this world simply for having too many feelings and then none at all. I am inhuman and shunned for it. No matter. Even if I could feel despair, I wouldn’t. Not for them, anyway. Not for the hierarchy of man that dictates what is proper and good for a woman to be. Certainly not for the ones who could care less that I am left to rot here. The charming knight riding in on his gallant steed is but a thing of child’s play—hollow armor people guild themselves with when the flimsy hold of hope has its claws sunk two knuckles deep.
Emotions are messy, and all I wanted to be was pristine.
written for prompt: the cops have brought me in for bloodwork for a DWI and oh no my ER nurse is really hot and I'm a fuckup
I just would like to point out that there's no real sane reason to keep a hospital this frigid when it's already 15 degrees outside. I know it's something about keeping germs at a minimum, but rationalizing isn't exactly my forte when I'm busy trying to come off as not-drunk when I’m oh-so-very drunk.
Hammered.
Blitzed.
Gone.
The deputy who has me in cuffs is barely older than I and not convinced. We stood outside for nearly an hour waiting on the warrant to obtain my bloodwork; I'm just happy it's saved me from the holding tank a little bit longer. At least here I can try to catnap some of this booze out of my system.
I still can't figure out how they knew to pull me over. I wasn't speeding, and my constant drunken mantra of "Mustard. Mayo. Stay in the middle" ensured the fact that I was not swerving or drifting in and out of lanes. Hell, I drive better drunk than I do sober.
All I can figure is that they were tailing me as I pulled out of the bar's parking lot. Profiling bastards! This is my first DWI offense and definite overkill on their part. Besides an absolute fuckton of Patron, there is nothing else swimming in my bloodstream.
Speaking of swimming, I must lay my head against the gurney to keep the room from going all topsy-turvy. I wonder if doctors and nurses operate on some kind of backwards fantasy time where two hours really feels like ten minutes to them because besides the triage nurse at the front desk, we haven't seen a living soul since being showed to the room. No skin off my back: the cop gets to get out of the cold, and I'm not sitting pretty behind bars yet. Also, I’m pretty sure it’s against some policy to haul in someone the opposite gender of you. He’s a six foot two giant beanpole of a man, and I’m just a little five foot barely two inches off the ground lesbian woman. What the hell kinda intimidation am I gonna pull on him?
I'm barely drifting off when a feminine voice announces the presence of my nurse. I crack open my eyes with much effort. And whoaaa nelly, this is my nurse. I don't want to diminish her beauty by telling you I was peering through some mighty hefty beer goggles, but Christ, was she radiant.
One side of her short, blonde hair was tucked behind an ear, freckles dusted over a cute button nose, and a bright smile to kill for. Talent truly wasted in the dungeon that is this emergency room, that's for sure. She wraps a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm, and surprisingly her hands are not ice-cold despite the cliché that all medical worker's hands stay sterile and freezing.
"Frann---Frances," I slur from her name badge. "I only know of old men and bulldogs named Frances." The thought leaves my mouth before I can stop it and leaves me nearly biting my tongue in two. Fuck. Why am I the way that I am? Thankfully, she smirks in response and cuts her eyes in my direction. Brown eyes. Beautiful.
"It's a family name. After my grandmother."
"Is your grandmother as pretty as you?"
"Jesus." The deputy beside me mutters the oath under his breath as if he also can't fathom the inner workings of my debauched mind. Trust me, my dude, I can’t either.
Thankfully, she takes this in stride and chuckles. “I think she probably was back in her day.” The blood pressure cuff inflates tightly on my arm for a few moments before giving her back a reading she seems satisfied with.
“So, what brings you in tonight?” She knows, and she knows that I know she knows, but I imagine it must be some hospital protocol to ask the patient why they’re there when we clearly told the triage nurse at the front desk the same thing.
“Deputy High-and-Tight here wants some of my blood,” I slur and jab a thumb over my shoulder to the uniform. “Cop by day. Vampire by night. His delicate policeman sensibilities keep him from feeding directly on his victims. So, he drags them in to the ER to get it “legally””. I heavily air-quote the legally portion. Fucking cops.
My narrative does not phase him one bit. “Go on. Tell her how you got here.”
I roll my head on my shoulders and smirk like the little piss-ant that I am. The rolling of the head bit also makes the room spin a little. “Hey, I might be the drunk one, but I’m pretty sure we got HERE in YOUR car. I could be wrong. Could have been a magic carpet ride.”
My mind instantly goes back to other carpet rides I’ve experienced, and I swing my head back towards the pretty lady in the room. She’s still smiling. That’s good. She’s either laughing with me or laughing at me. Either way, if I have her attention I’m golden.
“I think I blew a point ohhh…what was it again, dude…point oh twelvish. That sounds about right. So on the scale of legality, I was nearly able to drive.” I try to stick up for myself on this one. I really was almost at the legal limit. If I had just spent the few extra minutes fishing out my keys from where they dropped under the seat, I might not be in this predicament.
Speaking of dicks, my friend speaks up again. “Nearly able and able are not the same thing. You were drifting into the median.”
“Bullllllshit, dude. I’m a great driver.” I say this emphatically to my nurse, who nods all very serious-like. I hadn’t noticed before, but she was prepping a sterile butterfly needle and specimen tube and already coming at my arm with an alcohol swab.
“Woah, woah, woah. Can you at least take me out to dinner first?!” I try to hold my arm still to the best of my ability, but it keeps drunkenly fish-tailing itself off my leg to flop beside me on the gurney. She finally laughs out loud at this and holds it deftly with her forearm while her hand stabilizes the spot she’s about to poke at.
“Sure. I’m not a fan of Italian or Chinese buffet food. I like burgers, hibachi, and Mexican, though.”
Wait…what? Did that actually work? I was so not expecting that shit to work.
“As long as you don’t get this plastered during our dinner, yeah, it worked.”
Ho-lee crap. I said that out loud. For the first time during this encounter, I feel a flush of embarrassment ride up my neck. Shit. She said yes. What do I do now? I look to Deputy Bust-my-Balls for moral support, and even he looks super surprised that my plan worked. However, he offers no other encouragement on my front.
“Well, sweet. Here, write your number on my arm since I’m pretty sure my phone is in his pocket. Next week sound good? I’ll probably be downtown for a few days, but don’t let that be an opportunity for you to back out, okay? I’ll be a free woman before you know it.” I rush to get all this out coherently before I lose my train of thought.
She finishes getting the vial of blood she needed, and deftly scribbles out her name and cell on the inside of my arm. I stare dumbly at it as if it were going to grow a pair of legs and walk off.
“It was nice to meet you. Stay out of trouble!” she states, standing up. Before her cute little tush leaves the room, she jerks her head at the cop. “Don’t give him such a hard time, okay? He’s just doing his job.”
I glare at him once she’s left and laugh to see that he’s also blushing. Feeling real proud of myself, I kick my legs up on the gurney and get comfortable. “You work all weekend, Moustache?”
“Un-fucking-fortunately.” He sighs heavily. If I were him and had to deal with me, I’d sigh too.
