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fandomweekly2017-01-12 11:38 am
toffeecat) wrote in fandomweekly2017-01-12 11:38 am
Entry tags:
[#028] Another Scrap of her Life (Original)
Theme Prompt: #028 | Old Fashioned
Title: Another Scrap of her Life
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: G/No
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 554
Summary: Sometimes, her memories are closer to his heart than his own childhood.
He looks at her, and scoffs. Hidden behind jars of marmalade and a can of coffee, she quietly but fervently tips something into her phone. Her breakfast all but untouched, she barely takes notice of anything that isn't the small black thing she grips so tightly in her hands; sometimes he wonders if her life depends on it. What does he know, though? Maybe, it does.
He used to ask what she was doing, desperate to connect to her. Now especially, since his wife has died. But all she did was brushing it off with a shrug, and at some point, he stopped. There is a flicker of guilt in her eyes, or is it there because he wants it to be? He isn't sure, but he can only do so much. And he knows that when he continues pressing her, she gets up and leaves. Sitting in silence is better than sitting alone, after all.
She had talk more, back when she was younger; he doesn't remember much of the joyful tales about her friends and school, but he won't forget her earnest smiles when she talked. There are days when that old joy shines through, good days when she reacts to what he says, and her phone is not glued to her hand. They are far and between, but at this point, he takes what he can get, even though he doesn't understand much of what she talks about. Only, that it's about her future, about her dreams.
And he will treasure her tales; along with the other scraps of her life he took part in. He had cradled her on his arms when she was crying, he had listened to her first attempts of speaking, he had taught her to ride a bike, he had been proudly watching her at her graduation...
She has always been his favourite, and age can take much from him, but these memories he will fight for until the end.
Sometimes, her memories are closer to his heart than those of his own childhood. It had been a different time, in so many ways. He wouldn't say it was better, in hindsight.
What only has happened since then? She grew up, and he grew old. He knows that. Doesn't make any of this easier, though. Doesn't mean he has to like it, either.
He is out of touch with today's time, he knows that, too. He has been told so often enough. It's one of the things that makes getting older just that bit more unbearable.
And soon she will leave, and he will be alone again. Alone with what little he remembers from his past, and what little that is left of his future. Alone in his big, empty house full of memories he doesn't want to have, until he has to move; only to be alone again, in a smaller flat with no memories at all. He prefers neither.
He'd rather not think about it, not now. It's easier to put it off.
Even though she hides behind jars of marmalade and a can of coffee, even though she doesn't talk but only tips something into her phone, she is still here. And he smiles. He'll be damned if he doesn't enjoy it as long as he still can.
Title: Another Scrap of her Life
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: G/No
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 554
Summary: Sometimes, her memories are closer to his heart than his own childhood.
He looks at her, and scoffs. Hidden behind jars of marmalade and a can of coffee, she quietly but fervently tips something into her phone. Her breakfast all but untouched, she barely takes notice of anything that isn't the small black thing she grips so tightly in her hands; sometimes he wonders if her life depends on it. What does he know, though? Maybe, it does.
He used to ask what she was doing, desperate to connect to her. Now especially, since his wife has died. But all she did was brushing it off with a shrug, and at some point, he stopped. There is a flicker of guilt in her eyes, or is it there because he wants it to be? He isn't sure, but he can only do so much. And he knows that when he continues pressing her, she gets up and leaves. Sitting in silence is better than sitting alone, after all.
She had talk more, back when she was younger; he doesn't remember much of the joyful tales about her friends and school, but he won't forget her earnest smiles when she talked. There are days when that old joy shines through, good days when she reacts to what he says, and her phone is not glued to her hand. They are far and between, but at this point, he takes what he can get, even though he doesn't understand much of what she talks about. Only, that it's about her future, about her dreams.
And he will treasure her tales; along with the other scraps of her life he took part in. He had cradled her on his arms when she was crying, he had listened to her first attempts of speaking, he had taught her to ride a bike, he had been proudly watching her at her graduation...
She has always been his favourite, and age can take much from him, but these memories he will fight for until the end.
Sometimes, her memories are closer to his heart than those of his own childhood. It had been a different time, in so many ways. He wouldn't say it was better, in hindsight.
What only has happened since then? She grew up, and he grew old. He knows that. Doesn't make any of this easier, though. Doesn't mean he has to like it, either.
He is out of touch with today's time, he knows that, too. He has been told so often enough. It's one of the things that makes getting older just that bit more unbearable.
And soon she will leave, and he will be alone again. Alone with what little he remembers from his past, and what little that is left of his future. Alone in his big, empty house full of memories he doesn't want to have, until he has to move; only to be alone again, in a smaller flat with no memories at all. He prefers neither.
He'd rather not think about it, not now. It's easier to put it off.
Even though she hides behind jars of marmalade and a can of coffee, even though she doesn't talk but only tips something into her phone, she is still here. And he smiles. He'll be damned if he doesn't enjoy it as long as he still can.
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