Ink
Author: Gabrielle MoonBeam
Fandom: Gundam Wing (Sotsu, Bandai, Sunrise) Escada's Sexy Graffiti belongs to Escada.
Warnings: hints of shoujo ai, oddness (and I mean it, people!) short, short ficlet. Angst.
Notes: It's two am. I just wrote an odd little ficlet. Maybe I should go to bed. *drags muse off* Oh yeah! The fic format IS supposed to be fragmented like that!
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She's breathing.
A hollow, rushed little sound in a securely locked office decorated with pink.
She watches her own reflection in the glass of a window wall, watches the stars in the black night outside.
Outside...
Blackness like ink,
like ink
and she bumps her elbow to an ink bottle and
it smashes to the floor,
soaks the carpet,
pink, pink carpet
with the black of Death and the night.
Milky skin glints with a healthy glow radiating from the single desk lamp, her blue, violet,
red veins
stare at her from beneath healthy, healthy,
torn
skin.
She smiles, smiles
and the world
halts
but just for her.
No one sees her now,
she realises,
understands.
She knows she has bodyguards,
she has her Heero standing guard outside the locked,
locked
door.
She wonders if Duo would be able to pick the lock.
She wonders where the other girl is.
She admires her reflection some more,
flexing
fingers
in the healthy glow of the lamp.
She turns it off.
And she is hideous.
Bones, bony,
bony,
anorexic body.
Frail nails tap,
tap,
tap
against a mahogany desk.
Red lips are lifeless,
the color
dripping off in flakes of pigment.
Her skin is the color of oatmeal.
Her pink dress looks horrible,
it's disgusting
when the light isn't on.
She wonders where her companion is.
She thinks of her at every turn.
When she steps into the office, she
is
usually
there.
And everything smells of
Escada's
Sexy Graffiti.
She thinks in fragments, tugs
at a plait.
Honey blonde hair falls limply about her shoulders,
lifeless
like the rest of her.
Dorothy, Dorothy.
It's a silent mantra as she rocks
to and fro
sitting in her pink little desk chair that was so adult a few moments ago.
She's a child princess.
And she needs Dorothy.
Wail, wail.
Shout for Dorothy.
Endless Dorothy.
Ice and sugar.
Ice cream and strawberries mixed in a bowl with a poisonous snake.
She misses her.
Wants her to be here.
Wants everything to be furnished in black.
Because Dorothy is in the room.
In a small urn.