So, I've been suffering from a writer's block recently. I decided to just pump out a quick one-shot to hopefully get the creative juices flowing again. This is the product of staying up till late while listening to "Whiskey Lullaby" by Brad Paisley over and over and over again. It's a one-shot at the moment, but I have a couple more ideas floating around, so I might extend it later, who knows. I didn't have any plot or anything when I started this, I just started writing and kept going until I reached the end. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, personally I think this is only so-so, but I'd like to hear your thoughts on it.
Enjoy!
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He didn't like the real world.
Amber swirled in the glass before him, the clinking of ice a melody to his ears.
Another swig, followed by the familiar burn in the back of his throat, and he knew that soon, everything would be okay.
Noises slowly drifted out of focus as he continued to sip the poison, the sound fading in and out like the tide. If he could only stay like this forever, and just forget.
Forget everything.
Forget her smile, her laughter, her hair, her eyes, her heart, her love.
Forget the ache, the pain, the loneliness, the sorrow, the world.
Make it go away.
The sound of a chair scraping next to him went unheeded, his mind only focused on the glass in front of him and the numbing darkness consuming his mind.
"Troubles, mate?" the voice pulled at his thoughts, attempting to keep him from his blissful darkness. He growled, a deep low sound, as he tried to ignore the speaker while throwing back another shot.
"Seems to be pretty bad, you trying to empty the bar on your own?"
The growling increased, couldn't this stranger just let him forget? Couldn't he see how tired he was of it all?
"Come, it is never good to hold these things inside, my friend. Why don't you tell me what's wrong." The mystery man called for a shot of whiskey, and made a show of settling down in his seat.
Amber eyes, as dark as the drink in his glass, finally glanced at the man next to him, taking in his appearance, while the man quirked a grin, knowing he was being examined. Coal black hair framed deep purple eyes, which seemed to dance with some inner mischief. He looked to only be in his early twenties, his life just beginning.
Just like hers.
He turned away and continued drinking.
"I suppose I have been rude, though you have been less than hospitable. Allow me to begin anew, my name is…"
"Please." He was surprised by the raspy quality of his own voice; it was thick as if it had not been used in a while. It didn't' even sound like his voice. "Just…just let me forget." Silver hair fell like a curtain around his face, as if shielding him from the pain. Even the stranger seemed slightly shocked at the broken plea. The two sat in silence for a while, sipping on their drinks and allowing the bar's atmosphere to float about them, voices rising and falling while the sound of laughter and talk rolled into a soothing buzz in the background.
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Miroku studied the man before him, whom he had noticed from across the bar. Of course, he was a hard sight to miss with his silver hair, a beacon amongst the crowd of people. The man was obviously at least part demon, the dog ears atop his head a clear indicator of his heritage. But what had really pulled his attention was the aura of pain and sadness that seemed to permeate the very air surrounding the stranger. A quick pep talk and Miroku had made his way over, hoping to somehow alleviate the man's pain. He couldn't explain why he felt such a need to help him, but he knew he had to at least try.
It was with a deep breath and a quick prayer to the heavens that Miroku broke the silence between the two.
"Miroku." The man gave a small start, obviously having forgotten about his audience, he had been so caught up in his thoughts.
"What?" the question seemed to slip from his lips before he had time to stop himself, his jaws quickly snapping shut with an audible click.
"My name." Miroku supplied, turning his full gaze on the hanyou next to him, awaiting his response. Silence reigned for several minutes, and Miroku began to suspect that the man had once again slipped into deep thought and was ignoring him. The voice was so quiet that he almost missed it.
"InuYasha." He whispered, taking another sip from his glass. Miroku smiled, feeling some of the ice break around the two. The bartender stopped by and refilled the hanyou's glass without so much as a second glance. This was probably not the first time he had come to this bar to try and forget.
"InuYasha, hmm? Pray tell, my dear friend, what troubles you so?" Miroku knew he was being nosy, but perhaps by getting InuYasha to open up, he could help heal whatever wounds had been inflicted upon his heart. The man seemed to be in too much pain. No-one should be hurting so much.
Once again, InuYasha seemed to completely forget where he was and continued to sip from his glass. The minutes ticked by as people slowly trickled out of the bar and into the chilly night air. Minutes turned into an hour and Miroku was almost ready to call it quits. Who was he to try and solve this man's problems? He didn't even know him. Why was he trying so hard to heal someone who obviously didn't want to be helped?
A slight movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Turning his head, Miroku noticed that InuYasha no longer held the glass between his hands. Instead, one hand was fingering a small, golden, heart-shaped locket, which had been hidden underneath his shirt. Silver hair hid his face from view, but Miroku marveled at the tender way InuYasha held the small trinket, as if it would suddenly disappear forever. His voice was low, and so laden with sorrow that Miroku felt his own heart ache.
"Her name…was Kagome." Two tears dripped onto the polished counter.
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Well, whatcha think? I normally write humor, so this is a far cry from my normal fics. I figured I needed a little more practice in tougher situations.
Reviews please! =)