yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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metamorphosis2014-03-28 01:26 am
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2014-03-28 01:26 am
Entry tags:
485;
Title: same old same old
Characters: Silver (Glitchverse), Ethan (Sololocke)
Rating: PG b/c of totally implied shit
Warnings: ugh 11 yr olds
”Does it make you feel any better?”
Ethan turns his head at Silver’s tired, sharp voice. He wishes the lights were off — that he could just clap and bam, they’d go out, just like on those commercials. He leans over the side of the bed and grabs the blankets, tossing them back and hanging off the side until he hears Silver pull them closer and wrap himself in them.
"Was it supposed to?" He’s more bitter than he sounds; Ethan congratulates himself on not letting all of it through, then moves himself until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. He traces scratches that start around at the skin between his thumb and forefinger. Fire up his arms. Perfect reminders that he never needed. "I mean, why would it?"
Silver shifts behind him -- probably looking for the clock. He counts the hours once, then twice. Ethan rolls his eyes when the other boy starts on a third round and twists around towards him.
"Half a hour," he huffs. "It was half an hour."
"Thirty-three minutes and twenty-six seconds," Silver corrects him. There's a certain calmness to his voice, as if figuring how much time he's lost is somehow more relaxing than curling up. Ethan can't understand it--he doesn't think he ever will--but he isn't going to say anything about it. It's not worth fighting over when he'd spent half the night fighting anyway, or at least earned the marks of it.
Characters: Silver (Glitchverse), Ethan (Sololocke)
Rating: PG b/c of totally implied shit
Warnings: ugh 11 yr olds
”Does it make you feel any better?”
Ethan turns his head at Silver’s tired, sharp voice. He wishes the lights were off — that he could just clap and bam, they’d go out, just like on those commercials. He leans over the side of the bed and grabs the blankets, tossing them back and hanging off the side until he hears Silver pull them closer and wrap himself in them.
"Was it supposed to?" He’s more bitter than he sounds; Ethan congratulates himself on not letting all of it through, then moves himself until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed. He traces scratches that start around at the skin between his thumb and forefinger. Fire up his arms. Perfect reminders that he never needed. "I mean, why would it?"
Silver shifts behind him -- probably looking for the clock. He counts the hours once, then twice. Ethan rolls his eyes when the other boy starts on a third round and twists around towards him.
"Half a hour," he huffs. "It was half an hour."
"Thirty-three minutes and twenty-six seconds," Silver corrects him. There's a certain calmness to his voice, as if figuring how much time he's lost is somehow more relaxing than curling up. Ethan can't understand it--he doesn't think he ever will--but he isn't going to say anything about it. It's not worth fighting over when he'd spent half the night fighting anyway, or at least earned the marks of it.