One More Thing
AN: This is just a revamping of one of the scenes in The City of Ember. It was pretty cute to begin with, what with Doon and Lina having their little Friendship Hug and all, but I thought I would expand the fluff factor a bit and give it more weight. The actions and (most) of the dialogue remain the same; the only thing I took my pen to was the internal monologue/emotions.
Gawd, it's short!
Disclaimer: Ember and all its It-Would-Be-Really-Adorable Relationships are the property of Ms. Du Prau, as is the excerpt below.
"Wait," said Lina, catching hold of the sleeve of his jacket. "I have one more thing to tell you."
"What?"
"My grandmother died."
The tension slips from Doon's thin frame and all the vibrating urgency of revealing the Mayor's terrible secret seems to stumble and fall back. "Oh…"
It's as though they've stepped into their own little bubble and everything else around them has become slightly muted. "I'm so sorry…" he said.
And Lina becomes aware of a bubble in her own chest—one that had settled there on the morning she'd woken up to find her grandmother gone away, far beyond her own reach this time. It's weight, a burden-so heavy and yet impossibly fragile. But now it pops under the unexpected compassion in Doon's dark eyes. It's a darkness unlike any she's ever known before: not one of blindness and terror and loss, but of peace—rest—a dark that maybe her grandmother had sought and found as well. And, inevitably, the tears begin to spill over. She's embarrassed how easily they come, especially in front of the boy she associates so much with strength.
So it comes as a shock when he steps forward suddenly, closing the gap between them, and wraps her in short but impossibly tight hug. She lets out a noise somewhere in between a laugh and a sob, burying her nose in the collar of his thin shirt and breathes in the friendly, slightly metallic smell. They're both all sharp angles compared to the fleshy opulence of the Major, but the bones beneath are real and strangely reassuring in a world of crescendoing blackouts and a more-than-uncertain future. And the warmth, however faint, keeps it all at bay.
It's over too quickly-Doon stepping back and releasing Lina, who swiftly wipes at her tears and fixes him a solid gaze and a shy smile. "Thanks."
He smiles back. The hug may be broken, but the connection still sings strange and strong between them. And his dark eyes are alert and searching for something in her own, though he himself hasn't the faintest idea what it might be.
And like that, they step out of their little lull and head together towards Harken Square, towards the guards that will soon be chasing them, carrying a truth that is doomed to be ignored. But even if they'd known that then, things seem somehow less frightening now. Between the two of them, they have something that will be there even if—even when—the lights go out forever. And however small, however faint, however scared and uncertain it might be, the darkness cannot touch it.
AN: I'm so full of cheese; I should really rework my diet. :) Reviews, comments, critiques welcomed.