AN: Random word drabbles. Think I might do 13 of these. Enjoy. (Oh, you know, and review, so I don't get bored with them and stop. No. That wasn't a threat. It's a promise.)
Don't own shiz-nat.
This one is super short, I realize, but come on, what else was I going to do with 'preface'? I like it though. I'm just saying, random word generator, that this would be a lot easier if you gave me words like 'maze,' or 'peach,' or even, 'super-sexy-fae-goblin-king-in-obscenely-tight-pants.' C'mon.
Preface
Sarah Williams was exhausted.
If she'd ever thought she'd been tired before, she was wrong. Never had she felt this bone crunching, muscle throbbing, mentally exhausted kind of I-just-want-to-cry-but-I-don't-have-enough-energy-to tired.
She was physically out of shape. Most people thought that just because you're thin, your fit. This is definitely not the case, as Sarah's screaming limbs were testament to. Never before had she done anything so grueling.
It was like she just went through a thirteen hour boot camp. Ten, she reminded herself, thinking of the hours the Goblin King had taken away.
Ugh… the Goblin King. Sarah may be on the verge of unconscious tired, coming off of her eleven hour adrenaline rush, but he was where all of her real mental exhaustion lay.
Because yes, she freaked the fuck out when Toby was gone. But whose fault was that? His. And hers. But dude, he took babies. Not to mention her friends, who seemed more than a little worried about what the Goblin King would do to them once they got back.
And he proved it! Magic is real. Hoggle confirmed her suspicious about him being a Fae, which definitely was something to think on.
Not to mention the… ah…. Mild thought she may have given him in the past. And the ah… possible ponderings she may… you know… give his possibly romantic statements and… ridiculously suggestive pants.
Pssh. He claimed she near exhausted him. Whatever he felt, it was nothing compared to what she was going through. Laying in throbbing, sore, dry eyed, dizzy, worn out pain.
As she was drifting off to sleep, unable to even move her head, her thoughts were brought back to the last thirteen hours by the book left open on her bedside table.
And just like the book, open to the second page, she couldn't help but feel that like the book, her escapades with the Labyrinth and its Lord, was still only open to the preface.