Restored - an excerpt
Aug. 18th, 2009 01:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
writersblockstopTitle: Restored
Rating: PG
Pairing/Character: Henry and Elizabeth. Original characters from the novel I am currently working on.
Summary: I can't exactly give a summary without giving away my story. All I'm going to say is these two have history. This is rather short and succinct because I tend to write this way when it comes to this story. Eventually it will all come together and make sense. I hope.
You can rip out the pages of a book but the words were always there. You can shred, burn, and tear all you want. Your attempts will always be futile and there is nothing you can do to change this.
The covers on his bed were cold and stale. He had not been here for a while. I got up from his bed and circled around the room trying to find something. Anything. There was a nearly empty bottle of vodka carelessly thrown in his clothes hamper. I reached for the bottle and pressed the opening of it to my lips. I did not drink. I let it linger on my bottom lip and I closed my eyes, remembering.
"Henry, this stuff is going to kill you I hope you know," I grabbed the bottle from his hands and dangled it in front of his face.
"Here's hoping." He grinned and snatched it back. "I'm going to die someday Liz, might as well do it with poison coursing through me. Drink?"
"Pass." I sat back down on his bed and glared at him. His comforter was warm.
My eyes opened. I waited for footsteps, for a voice, for anything. Instead the silence overstayed its welcome. I threw the bottle against the wall and watched it shatter in slow motion.
"I could really use that drink now."
Rating: PG
Pairing/Character: Henry and Elizabeth. Original characters from the novel I am currently working on.
Summary: I can't exactly give a summary without giving away my story. All I'm going to say is these two have history. This is rather short and succinct because I tend to write this way when it comes to this story. Eventually it will all come together and make sense. I hope.
You can rip out the pages of a book but the words were always there. You can shred, burn, and tear all you want. Your attempts will always be futile and there is nothing you can do to change this.
The covers on his bed were cold and stale. He had not been here for a while. I got up from his bed and circled around the room trying to find something. Anything. There was a nearly empty bottle of vodka carelessly thrown in his clothes hamper. I reached for the bottle and pressed the opening of it to my lips. I did not drink. I let it linger on my bottom lip and I closed my eyes, remembering.
"Henry, this stuff is going to kill you I hope you know," I grabbed the bottle from his hands and dangled it in front of his face.
"Here's hoping." He grinned and snatched it back. "I'm going to die someday Liz, might as well do it with poison coursing through me. Drink?"
"Pass." I sat back down on his bed and glared at him. His comforter was warm.
My eyes opened. I waited for footsteps, for a voice, for anything. Instead the silence overstayed its welcome. I threw the bottle against the wall and watched it shatter in slow motion.
"I could really use that drink now."
