Mad World (short story): Difference between revisions
(Created page with " Yukito's feet dragged as he walked the Marshtown piers. The day felt drab and unremarkable somehow, as if it could be smudged right into the next and no one would even notice...") |
(updated template for new required parts) |
||
(2 intermediate revisions by one other user not shown) | |||
Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
{{creative-work |
|||
|title = Mad World |
|||
|type = short story |
|||
|author = Yukito |
|||
|author-displayed = [[Yukito (prime)|Yukito]] |
|||
|date = 2022-01-12 |
|||
}} |
|||
Yukito's feet dragged as he walked the Marshtown piers. The day felt drab and unremarkable somehow, as if it could be smudged right into the next and no one would even notice. The skies were uniformly grey and threatened rain, but instead left the air damp and chilly. |
Yukito's feet dragged as he walked the Marshtown piers. The day felt drab and unremarkable somehow, as if it could be smudged right into the next and no one would even notice. The skies were uniformly grey and threatened rain, but instead left the air damp and chilly. |
||
Latest revision as of 12:20, 22 March 2024
Title: Mad World
Author: Yukito
Yukito's feet dragged as he walked the Marshtown piers. The day felt drab and unremarkable somehow, as if it could be smudged right into the next and no one would even notice. The skies were uniformly grey and threatened rain, but instead left the air damp and chilly.
He yawned and pulled his jacket closer, barely lifting a hand to wave as his neighbors passed by. Similarly, they only nodded slightly in return. Perhaps it was the early time of day, or the dismal weather, but a general malaise had slowly wended its way through the edges of the town. Maybe that was just his own mood coloring his impression, though. There were plenty of people rushing about, bustling here and there, living their lives in seeming cheer. Ordinarily that was enough to bring his own mood up, but he stubbornly remained grumpy.
His footsteps took him down into the town proper, meandering the streets. Folks darted in and out of shops, their actions fast and efficient. Occasionally he caught someone's eye, and shared a story and a smile. Those moments were wonderful, and he had to admit that he enjoyed playing with their companions and familiars best when they came to visit. Pets were easy to win over with cake.
The afternoon ambled on, bringing Yukito's foosteps into the Market. People stood about chatting as commerce ebbed and flowed in the background. Finding a spot on one of the benches, he plucked a book from his beloved kit and stroked a finger over its silvery gargoyle design. All the noises around him fell away as he lost himself in the pages of his novel...
...She tossed her long, luxuriously red hair over her shoulder and glared up at the towering man standing before her. Her emerald green eyes flashed sparks of defiance and she lifted her hand to strike him across the face. Effortlessly, he captured her delicate wrist and dragged her close, ignoring her gasp of outrage.
"How DARE you!" She seethed at him, pushing at his broad, muscular chest. "Unhand me at once, you brute!"
Respecting her wishes, he released her immediately, the sword-calloused tips of his fingers softly caressing her smooth skin as he took a wary step back. His deep voice rumbled like the promise of a summer storm, "I'm never going to give you up."
She turned away, her hair blowing in the sudden breeze, waving like a streaming crimson banner, "Liar! How could I ever trust you again?"
"I'm never going to let you down." His tone was insistent, coaxing, tugging at the strings of her heart. It hammered at her defenses, leaving her reeling and defenseless. She trembled inside, feeling lost and under his spell. One of his large hands settled on her shoulder, warm and gentle, "I'm never going to run around and desert you."
A soul-deep sigh escaped her slim frame. Her eyes slipped closed for a moment as she simply allowed herself to bask in the memories of what they'd once had. The misunderstandings. The strife. Could it all be washed away with a few sweet words? A tear slipped down the curve of her cheek, and his finger brushed it away. Her full bosom heaved as she sobbed.
"I'm never going to make you cry!" He pulled her close to his chest and the two of them stared out over the bay, waves crashing below. The spray of the ocean misted their skin and she nuzzled his arm, seeking his embrace.
"You have said that before." Her voice was a mere whisper on the wind. They were equally vulnerable in that moment. Exposed in their feelings.
"I'm never going to say goodbye." He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up. She stared into his gentle brown eyes. Reflected there was every bit of insecurity that she was feeling. Remorse. Regret. Pain. Longing. Turning in his arms, she embraced him. His voice was a whisper, a rumble that soothed her like a balm, or a purr that stroked her into sweet submission.
"I'm never going to tell a lie, and hurt---"
"Bandits?"
Cryheart's voice startled Yukito so much that he almost dropped his book. Desperately, he grabbed it to his chest, his heart pounding so hard that he was afraid that it would fall out onto the floor. A startled squeak burst from his lips before he could help himself, and he looked around in confusion. His friends were standing around him, looking bemused and expectant.
Face beet red, Yukito stuffed his book into his kit, obscuring the cover "Patricia's on a Roll", and nodded quickly. Stepping into formation, he sent the thought to Cryheart.
"Yes, sir!"