Shiny black Mary Janes, resting on the step second from the top. Waiting. Just waiting. Always waiting. Waiting on the scuffed up old trainers, size 10, that would come sliding in just before those perfect little Mary Janes up and quit, resigning themselves to wander the stone floors of the castle alone, thank you very much.
He was really good at being the last-second guy, the seventeen-year-old in the scuffed up old trainers, size 10. She didn't care for it much, the seventeen-year-old in the shiny black Mary Janes. She preferred someone who was on time, he preferred the adrenaline brought on by the idea that he just might not make it. But he does. He always makes it.
She's less patient tonight. Those shiny black Mary Janes are tip-tapping on the stone of the step second from the top, and long fingers with nails bitten to the quick are drumming on her knees. Waiting, sure. Just waiting. Always waiting. Waiting on, but hardly expecting, the scuffed up old trainers, size 10, that would usually come sliding in right about now.
She stands with a huff. She would've liked to have been proven wrong, just this once. She would've liked to have some faith in the seventeen-year-old with the scuffed up old trainers, size 10, just this once. But she isn't. And doesn't.
Those shiny black Mary Janes descend the stone steps upon which they've been waiting, just waiting, always waiting, and click off down the hallway. Alone. Soon, the clicks of the heels of those shiny black Mary Janes fade. Soon, there is silence in that stairwell where she's been waiting, just waiting, always waiting.
Those scuffed up old trainers, size 10, come sliding in as they always have each night prior. Only this time, they're too late.
A/N: I don't even know... Midnight musings, let's say? As always, let me know what you think.
Much love, Sadie