You lovely people, let me tell you one thing: your requests are much more pleasant to write than the dice-rolls I get! With your requests, I can always get some minor characters, while dice only allow the six main characters to appear. Keep them up!
This is a request from Superdude8, who asked for some Hank/Claire!
The grass is the dance floor; the flowers are their public
Before she tried to take away her own life, everything was glum through Claire's eyes. The sun only rose to make sure she understood she had another awful day to go through, the birds sang in their cheery voices to mock her, the rain pelted her to ensure she was sick the next time the sun rose. She only found solace when the sun was set, hidden by the horizon, leaving its place to the moon.
When she found herself alive and laying in a hospital bed, she felt like life was playing another cruel joke to her. The peace she had been searching for had been taken from her, and there was nothing she could do about it. It felt like salt on an open wound when she found out a man, no less, had saved her, and from then on, she knew she could never forgive anyone for this.
Or so she thought.
She's quietly padding around the garden as soon as she can get out of the room. She's trying to lure Hank into seeing her, trying to make herself as irritating as humanly possible. She figures going into an unauthorized area is a good start, and with that, she resumes her trampling. A rustle in the hedge enclosing the area catches Claire's attention, and her mind whispers "victory!" when she sees who it is. However, her expression becomes crestfallen when the orthopaedic surgeon has made it clear her presence in this area is not a nuisance.
Somehow, that small acceptance and the apparent concern the giant man harbours for her become like the bright beam of a lighthouse, guiding her to safety and away from the storm life has thrown at her, rocking her boat and threatening to throw her overboard into the cold, dark sea. She finds herself appreciating the man more than her previous experiences with the opposite gender should allow her to, and she's honestly terrified at the trust she has towards the man.
The next time, she has no intention of trying to drive him away from her. Claire brings him food, and although these are indeed the leftovers she presents them as, Hank takes them gratefully and showers her in thanks. Perhaps she could get used to it.
Neither of them is very fortunate, for their third meeting, at the mall this time, away from the morose atmosphere of the hospital, is interrupted by frantic shooting. The culprit is desperate, does not aim, and he successfully accomplishes his goal of trying to take as many people with him as he can, believing his death to be imminent. He is nonetheless saved by the orthopaedic surgeon, despite the fact a bullet was buried beneath Claire's creamy skin. At the news of her recovery, it's all he can do to stop himself from bear-hugging Maria, who managed to save her.
As he walks around the garden, watching over the flora that grows there, Hank sees a familiar figure clad in an equally familiar black dress. The dress is blown about by the wind, but the sight is still surprising. The woman is obviously dancing, her steps light, agile and calculated. It is quite the sight, to be honest. The man gets closer, intending on registering this image in his mind: a once desperate woman now dancing about, as if life was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to her. As he steps nearer, the wind caries over the smell of her fruity perfume and the light tune of a song she's humming. From here, Hank can see her expression clearly. Her lilac eyes are closed, and a smile adorns her face. It's definitely the expression that suits her best; there is no doubt about it.
When she seemingly finishes her tune, she looks around, and once Claire sees Hank, she freezes, eyes wide like a deer's caught in the headlights. For a moment the young woman is stunned, and Hanks feels like he has seen something he shouldn't have. However, before he can apologize, the girl extends her hand to him, as if she were inviting him. His thinks for a second, and then her understands. He takes her small hand in his own, she rests her other hand on his shoulder, and he passes his arm around her waist. Their slow dancing is awkward: there is no rhythm to guide them, and although Claire is obviously experienced, Hank is clumsy and has no idea what to do. They don't think for a second about how ridiculous they look, however, for no else but the flowers and birds see them.
I really need to write longer stories, though it's not that easy… I'll try to stop restraining myself, or else my stories can't go over 1k words.
Thanks for all the reviews, guys!
And as always, requests are always welcome c:
Love you all, and see you next chapter!