Ficlet: Streetlight
Jan. 12th, 2010 12:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Streetlight
Fandom/original: Original
Rating: G
A/N: Little ficlet out of nowhere.
There was music playing in an apartment above, flowing through the open window into the street. Normally, she might have found this an annoyance, but nothing could dampen her mood that night. Everything seemed perfectly in its place, the music among the rest. The slants of orange-tinted light fell the way they should, the wind blew at exactly the correct speed, and the timing was irrefutably right.
They were laughing.
The subject wasn't important; it never had been. He'd always been able to make her laugh, which she readily conceded was no easy feat. Even in the worst of times, he had the perfectly formed series of words, fashioned as carefully as a key. He caught her around the waist, spun her through a few dance steps to the music neither of them really knew. Their breath streamed away, mingling two streams into one.
It was quiet now.
Everything was still, though the light was much as it had been. It was just as cold. The scarf covered her lower face, masking her features and their expression equally well. Her eyes flicked up, gaze resting on the now-closed window. Much more sensible, having the window closed in winter. No one had money to waste on a heating bill, or the frivolous impulse to spread music to the street. Much more sensible, to be quiet.
Curfew would come soon. She wasn't foolish enough to get caught out. She wrapped her arms around herself and walked away.
Fandom/original: Original
Rating: G
A/N: Little ficlet out of nowhere.
There was music playing in an apartment above, flowing through the open window into the street. Normally, she might have found this an annoyance, but nothing could dampen her mood that night. Everything seemed perfectly in its place, the music among the rest. The slants of orange-tinted light fell the way they should, the wind blew at exactly the correct speed, and the timing was irrefutably right.
They were laughing.
The subject wasn't important; it never had been. He'd always been able to make her laugh, which she readily conceded was no easy feat. Even in the worst of times, he had the perfectly formed series of words, fashioned as carefully as a key. He caught her around the waist, spun her through a few dance steps to the music neither of them really knew. Their breath streamed away, mingling two streams into one.
It was quiet now.
Everything was still, though the light was much as it had been. It was just as cold. The scarf covered her lower face, masking her features and their expression equally well. Her eyes flicked up, gaze resting on the now-closed window. Much more sensible, having the window closed in winter. No one had money to waste on a heating bill, or the frivolous impulse to spread music to the street. Much more sensible, to be quiet.
Curfew would come soon. She wasn't foolish enough to get caught out. She wrapped her arms around herself and walked away.
