This is just a short one-shot, created as I was fudging around with present-tense in third-person. It isn't as impressive as I had originally imagined it, but what ever turns out the way one expects it to?
There's a The Fault In Our Stars (by John Green) allusion in the story, is what I was planning to say. Nothing plot-spoiling, I promise.
Update 6/08/13: I fixed the present to past-tense mistakes and added some things here and there while tidying up the story in general. Sorry for the mistakes, let me know if you spot any others. Thanks!
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He's content, with his feet wrapped in fabric that is embroidered with magenta swirls and bright yellow stripes with orange spots and a gentle blanket hugging his frame. Draped across the arm of the couch is another blanket with a stuffed friend and the remote. Steam rises softly from the mug cradled between his cold hands, tickling his nose. Meanwhile, his keen eyes flicker to the space around him.
Dan lies stretched across the other couch, ankles lying on top of one another as the blankets neglect to cover the tips of his sock-covered toes. He's tired, Phil can tell from the discourse from protocol concerning his hair, which has already begun to lose its usual luster. The ends are beginning to curl inwards, and the so regularly careful placement of the dark mess of hair has been left outright disheveled by his fingers running through them—Phil suspects it is due to his nerves recently. His computer sits open on his lap, shining its white light onto his face. Phil thinks it makes him look vaguely like a vampire, giving his skin a ghostly pallor.
He stretches, scrunching his exposed toes while extending his feet outwards. Long sleeves sliding down his forearms as his arms reach above his head, fingers closing on his palm slightly. They are neither closed in a fist nor raised in an open hand. His mouth widens as his eyes squint while he lets out a mighty yawn. A groan rises from his throat as he settles back down as quickly as he had risen. Rubbing his eyes as though attempting to ward off the tiredness, he exhales as though there is a great weight on his shoulders.
As if sensing his gaze on him, Dan looks up to meet his eyes. A smile that is dimmed by his drowsiness, tired beyond comprehension but still willing to offer a little light in the dark silence, appears on his lips. Though the lower one bares a red sore, as though he had been biting his lip excessively, it still remains genuine.
His voice rumbly in his throat, Dan speaks in the uncomfortable silence. "What?" he asks curiously.
He almost laughs, but stops it at the last moment so that bit is only a brief titter. "Nothing," he answers, a goofy grin on his face.
"No, really—what is it?" he asks. "Tell me, I can't take it." he cries dramatically, holding his hand over his heart as though it were beating irregularly. Phil knows it is only an act, meant solely for his amusement, but he laughs anyways.
"You just look like a lion," he answers simply, smiling at the confused look that appears on his face.
He hesitates before speaking, an uncertain glare in his eyes. "A lion? How so?" his tone is curious while vaguely incredulous.
He thinks for a moment, unsure how to go about justifying his description while still maintaining Dan's ego. Finally he manages to scrape up some tact, and continues speaking with an air of caution in his voice. "Well, your hair is sort of messy like a mane, and your yawn is kind of like a silent roar." he explains, looking down at his stuffed elephant-giraffe as though the texture of its mane is incredibly interesting.
"Oh," he finally murmurs. "Okay."
"Okay." he mumbles back.
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I think it was cute, personally. Not really a suggestion of romantic relations and whatnot, just an innocent observation of one's adorable best friend.
I hope you enjoyed your reading experience or whatnot, and if you review let me know if you've read TFiOS. I'd love to know what you thought about it!
As always, I hope your days are made of awesome, just like you. :D
-ZR