I've seen a few stories where Cole thinks of Marie as an angel, or as a perfect wife, which understandably strains their relationship in the game, since he feels that, considering what he had been responsible for during World War II. I wanted to flip that concept.
Personally, I think that if Cole's fate in World War II would have been different, he would have become a writer. As I pointed out, he does have an eye for detail, and he recognizes a wide swath of literature, not to mention the sense of empathy and open-mindedness that he has.
Prompt: Jumbled. Toss in as many random words from the master list (five is the minimum) naturally into the story as you can. My chosen words: foggy, muscular, hand, private, flinch, helmet
Words: 484
She wondered why he hadn't become a writer.
Marie herself had a different mind for stories, finding the viewing of the tale, rather than the craftsmanship itself, entertaining. Tearing apart the nuts and bolts of the story would take the illusion of its beauty from her.
She glimpsed him on several occasions, when he was engrossed in his studies, or staring off into the distance as if in thought. While his pleasant countenance had first caught Marie's eye, she couldn't help but wonder about him, an ambiguous figure in his own private world. She imagined him to be a prince, or a brooding Byronic hero, and the silliness of the idea made her flinch away from attempting conversation with him.
One foggy afternoon, she accidentally left her purse slung over a chair in the campus library, and it wasn't until she heard his footsteps behind her that she registered its absence.
She placed a hand to her mouth upon the realization of her mistake.
With a warm smile, he held it out by its strap. "I think this belongs to you."
Clearing her throat to prevent herself from stammering, she replied, "Thanks, can I ask your name?"
He chuckled. "Cole Phelps, but I believe we've met before."
He could pick up on nuances, hence when he had noticed her presence as she gazed at him in the past. At times it did draw on Marie's nerves, that obsession for detail.
Mundane problems fell to the background as she delved into the fictional world with him. Witches and knights did battle on Marie's spectrum, while tales of tragedy and sacrifice took Cole's side. They traversed this hidden realm until war forced them out of it. They promised to return one day, as if the conflict was a mere interruption phase.
Marie would show her young daughters pictures of their absent father, or sometimes point at a war recruitment poster featuring a muscular soldier clad in a shining helmet and a well-pressed uniform.
When Cole "triumphantly" returned, however, he brought a strange melancholy with him that Marie couldn't understand. She thought little of it, as he reassured her there was no reason in dwelling on it; the war was over.
So when Cole decided to embody the hero once more as a policeman, Marie couldn't help but be surprised. He appeared less and less frequently at home, off fighting great dragons. Their secret world, forgotten, faded away.
"What were you thinking?!" She shrieked angrily after having to ward off camera flashes from her front door. This couldn't be happening, she thought to herself, any moment Cole would tell her that the accusations of adultery were a sham.
At his silence, she was brought back to her college days, watching him silently, his back to her, and her hand twisting in the air with indecision. How could she be disappointed, when she didn't know him at all?