**This is my first go at a FF. I have a bad case of writer's block going on right now with a screenplay and thought I'd try to loosen the muscle a little bit via CASKETT.**
How many weeks has it been? Three? Four? Yes, four weeks since she became a statue atop a bomb. One month since he lovingly stood by her. Not an ounce of fear on his features. He hid it well. When he needs to, he hides it well.
Now here he sits. A statue on a swing. A face chiseled from stone. He gives nothing away. But his seriousness drips off of him in waves. Powerful waves that crash around her leaving her breathless and scared for her life.
He wants more. More than her. More than what they have. But what do they have? That's the reoccurring question that has been suffocating her thoughts for weeks. Her lip quivers slightly, but her gaze hard and unfaltering. Set somewhere, but not on him.
He is going to break up with her. He is going to set her free. Release her back into a world where she can run and hide as much as she pleases.
She hates him for doing it here. A place that once gave them both so much hope and reassurance. The place she sought out when she finally allowed herself to fully realize that all she wanted was him. But now here they sit, facing opposite directions. A fitting metaphor for what's to come.
It's his use of her full name that finally draws her eyes back to him. The sight of the ring that leaves her mouth dry and causes her to gulp down the anxious lump that had slowly formed in her throat.
And finally, it's the question. The question that makes her eyes widen ever so slightly. That stops her fragile heart from beating. That leaves her so breathless, she's forced to open her mouth for more air.
Now his gaze is hard and unfaltering. Directed right up at her. Into her. His eyes aren't sparkling with passion and excitement. They don't at all resemble what she has pictured every time she imagined this moment.
She sucks in one more mouthful of air before she finally exhales a heavy, drawn out, "Rick…"
It's her use of his first name that causes him to slowly let his eyes drift closed. He keeps them closed, holding his breath and pinching the ring tightly between his thumb and index fingers.
He's waiting for the bomb to go off...