Title: Some things
Disclaimer: Not mine, Not mine, Not mine..O.o Can you imagine the horror i could inflict on the world if it were mine?
Notes: Yeesh, of all things, Roy!Angst seems to come reaaallly easily to me. wry look I'm actually working on a Lust/Roy fic (don't ask me how that works, i'm still throttling my muses regarding that..) called 'The Sun'. Much Ishbal angst there--sorta a songfic of sorts. This little thing was spawned...gods know how--during work. Am interning now, so...erm..my mind tends to wander. ALOT. sighs Enjoy. Feedback is much appreciated. X-x
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The room windows had been shut for the longest time, the air in his room was stale to the point of musty; dull sunlight as it peeked through the once clear glass did nothing to brighten the darkened room. To most he would have cut the perfect figure of a broken thinker, slouched forward in the chair by the window-- hands hanging laxed in his lap as he stared vacantly into a bucket settled between his feet. His white shirt was crumpled with sleep and wear, as were his pants--He was the living image of a civilised caveman and he knew it.
His dull eyed reflection stared back at him;the surface of the dark viscious liquid was surprisingly clear, he thought to himself absently. Blinking slowly as he ran a hand over his chin and down his neck, the rough stubble was sandpaper against his palm; sighing as he let the hand drop--fingertips grazing across his reflection. Ripples of distortion followed in the wake of the disturbance--the smell of blood long gone bad swirling from the bucket. He wrinkled his nose; making a face at the rancid stench before lifting his blood tinted fingertips up.
He stays that way for awhile-- the blood drying on his hand-- slowly flaking off as he shifts and moves to retreat further into the perpetual darkness of his room; shying away from the sun.
...Some things are better left that way, hidden away from the light.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Not mine, Not mine..O.o Can you imagine the horror i could inflict on the world if it were mine?
Notes: Yeesh, of all things, Roy!Angst seems to come reaaallly easily to me. wry look I'm actually working on a Lust/Roy fic (don't ask me how that works, i'm still throttling my muses regarding that..) called 'The Sun'. Much Ishbal angst there--sorta a songfic of sorts. This little thing was spawned...gods know how--during work. Am interning now, so...erm..my mind tends to wander. ALOT. sighs Enjoy. Feedback is much appreciated. X-x
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The room windows had been shut for the longest time, the air in his room was stale to the point of musty; dull sunlight as it peeked through the once clear glass did nothing to brighten the darkened room. To most he would have cut the perfect figure of a broken thinker, slouched forward in the chair by the window-- hands hanging laxed in his lap as he stared vacantly into a bucket settled between his feet. His white shirt was crumpled with sleep and wear, as were his pants--He was the living image of a civilised caveman and he knew it.
His dull eyed reflection stared back at him;the surface of the dark viscious liquid was surprisingly clear, he thought to himself absently. Blinking slowly as he ran a hand over his chin and down his neck, the rough stubble was sandpaper against his palm; sighing as he let the hand drop--fingertips grazing across his reflection. Ripples of distortion followed in the wake of the disturbance--the smell of blood long gone bad swirling from the bucket. He wrinkled his nose; making a face at the rancid stench before lifting his blood tinted fingertips up.
He stays that way for awhile-- the blood drying on his hand-- slowly flaking off as he shifts and moves to retreat further into the perpetual darkness of his room; shying away from the sun.
...Some things are better left that way, hidden away from the light.