This one will be slightly different to the other chapters in this story. You'll see why.
Watch
Puck loves to cause mischief. He loves to break the rules, delights in watching the reaction of those stuffy old rule makers, as prank after prank showers on them in co-ordinated sequence. It's beautiful to watch, he thinks, and his trademark grin grows even wider with each shriek. Then Sabrina comes in tapping her watch, and he's broken out of his reverie, and he gets up grumbling.
He hates that thing, that black digital thing fastened around his girlfriend's wrist. Its nothing fancy, no gold chains or leather straps, just black plastic with a plastic screen, but it's got a timer and a stopwatch and an hourly chime, and it's perfect for her. Her dependence on it is the only reason he lets her keep it, the only thing that's stopping him from tearing it off her and throwing it as far he can into the Hudson River.
He tells her this one day, over dinner, and she looks at him wondrously. She understands why, I mean it makes sense, but a life where she didn't have constant access to the time frightens her immensely. How would she organise anything, arrive on time for important occasions, create any plans for anything, if she didn't know what time it was?
After several minutes of stunned thinking, she finally comes to a conclusion. He's never had a watch, so he doesn't know how helpful one is. He snorts, very loudly, and tells her that she's dead wrong, that he hates watches because it ruins all his fun, not because he's never used one. This only fuels her, and she converts her building anger into action, calculating what watch would be best for him. He is not amused by her efforts.
...
The first one she tries is a metal one, cool steel on steel, with a series of segmented links joined together to form the strap. It's quite regal, and fancy, and she knows he's a trickster but maybe she can convince that its something royalty wears.
She could not.
He takes one look at it and walks away, and when she finally manages to get it on him, he complains about how cold it is, or how it's so heavy its weighing down his wrist, or that its constant ticking is driving him crazy. It infuriates her to no end, and finally she relents and lets him take it off, missing the sly grin he has momentarily plastered on his face.
...
The next one is more practical, similar to hers, black plastic with lots of little functions. He's more curious this time, tries it on when she gives it to him, and wears it around for the next couple of days.
By the end of it the screen is cracked in three places, the light-up button has fallen off, and the catch is dangling loosely off, so the watch keeps sliding up and down his forearm.
What did you do?!, she yells furiously, when he comes home that night with that sorry excuse of a timepiece hanging limply in his fingers.
He has the grace to look sheepish, for a second, before announcing in normal fashion that it wasn't strong enough to keep up with him, and its bloody glow in the dark numbers kept revealing his position to his chimps, so when he was playing ambush with them he got caught every time.
...
The third one, the last one she assures him, is incredibly futuristic, all chrome and gleaming silver. Its got a sloping curved screen, which blends into the strap, and a date and second display. He laughs when he sees it, but its missing its traditional sparkle, and she knows its got his interest.
It lasts the longest, a whole week, before he comes home declaring it useless. He flings it to her, saying that once you look past all the shiny stuff its still just a watch, and he hates those.
She sighs, tucking it into a nearby drawer to sell later, and walks upstairs quietly. Frowning, he follows her doggedly and kisses her, again and again, until reluctantly she accepts his dismissal of watches, laughing.
...
She knows she said she's given up, but one day she's struck with such a flash of brilliance that she decides she's going to try once more, just for the sake of it. Rushing to the jewellers, and then the engravers, she walks out with a twinkle in her eye, a ticking piece of victory in her purse.
She presents it to him in the car, and he has to appreciate the thought she's put into it.
It's a pocket watch, with a click down lid and a golden chain, but that's not what gets him. It's the carving on the cover, which causes the breath to hitch in his throat, and fuels the overwhelming desire to kiss her.
In the centre are the letters 'TK' and 'QoS' encircled within a ball of fire. Expanding outwards are a web of designs, everything from a pot of overflowing gunk, to a thorny stemmed rose. Its beautiful in its originality, a myriad of chaotic designs on such an organised object, and he can't help but smile, long and wide.
Leaning in, his eyes flicker quickly to the empty country road they were on before he presses his lips to her passionately. He loves her so much, loves her excitement and energy, and when he surfaces his eyes are glazed over.
Then he sees the bright red car barrelling towards them and he throws himself over her, shielding her as the cars crash, and she screams.
...
She's lying in hospital, crying, with starchy white sheets pulled up to her neck.
She wants him there, wants him to be with her and support her, but she knows he can't. He's not by her bed, or in the hospital, or at home. He's faded away, and she hates that, and she cries.
With shaking fingers she reaches over onto her bedside table, where a single object sits, glinting gold. Its a pocket watch, charred and slightly melted, and no longer ticking.
Clicking it open, she stares at it, and the tears rush out faster. Its stopped working, frozen in a single moment in time, the second and minute and hour hand poised in a final position.
It's the time of his death.
And it breaks her.
I know the ending's really sudden and random but I wanted to have a sad Puck and Sabrina story, because I haven't written one of those for this story. Thanks for reading. Please review.