I pushed my hands further into my pockets as I walked down the crowded street. My head was bowed as I avoided eye contact with the other pedestrians. I pulled up my hood, my eyes darting around nervously.
Nobody would ever have to know what I'd done. No(more) one would ever know it had been me. No trace, I kept telling myself. I'd left no trace.
To the people I was pushing past, I was just in a hurry. But nothing is that simple. Especially with me. But these oblivious people have a way of becoming informed. I knew this from experience.
As a bead of sweat ran down my brow I hoped that they thought I was just another one of them, hurrying about their busy life.
I was someone who just walked by. And nobody knew.
"Wait, is that-" Jill started to turn her head at the figure that just walked by.
"Nope!" replied Bethany, grabbing her friend's wrist and tugging her along.
"But I thought-"
(more) "He's coming this way, Beth!"
"Shit! Are we with in run and hide distance?" Beth began searching for an escape route.
"It can't be that bad...."
"Jill!" she whispered exasperatedly, "we can't just give in. If we stay, he'll attempt hypnotize us to make us succumb to his demands, his little traveling band of rogues will try to overcome us, we'll turn into ugly beasts and all escape will be futile. We won't ever be the same again. "
"Beth.... it's the ice cream truck. Calm your shit. "(less)
Every day at 3 o'clock he walked by her house. She waited by her window, shadowed by the thick curtains, and watched. He was tall and broad-shouldered with a kind face. She didn't know his name or where he lived or how old he was. All she knew about(more) him is that he owned a Labradoodle, all she knew is that he walked his dog in the same direction every day, whether there was hail or sleet or sun.
She hadn't left her house in years and she thought it was admirable of him to walk with such purpose even if his path inevitably carried him home again, day after day.
One afternoon it was perfectly sunny but he didn't pass her house and she thought that something might have happened, something terrible, something she'd never know about because she never had the courage to open her front door.
She hovered in the window, hands flattening her hair and pulling at the hem of her sundress. She'd only just strayed to the kitchen to play with the Call button of her phone when the doorbell rang.
In the doorway he stood, no dog with him this time, just a plate of cookies and a strange smile.
"I've noticed you-- I wanted-- Do you like chocolate chips?" he said.
"You believe in love at first sight, or shall I walk by you again?" Gilbert's grin fell nearly as abruptly as he did--stride hindered by very shiny Armani shoes that sent him stumbling forward into a park bench.
(more) "No," Lovino said. He stood watching as the Prussian tried to play it off, slipping sideways into a dead sprawl like he'd intended to rest in the shade, legs spread lewdly open, one hanging off the side of the bench.
"Your loss!" Gilbert said. Still, he frowned, hurt, and that lingered a moment longer until Lovino shoved him aside to sit next to him. His breath caught in his throat as he found his vision, his space, his everything dominated by hazel eyes and the heat of even breath. Somewhere in his haze he caught a whiff of expresso and sun warmed soil and tomatoes and maybe the musk of sweat. As always, he forgot how to breathe.
"I don't believe in love at first sight. I believe in love at the millionth kiss, when it still feels like a challenge and I feel as if I still can't win. And love at the millionth fuck when we're still trying new shit and it's more a war between needing to fight and needing to caress. Or when you're doing the dishes in the dawn and the sun hits your pale-ass skin just so and your sleeves are soaked to the elbow. Or when you're folding your clothes completely straight because you're weird as hell. Or when you hum and get all pensive when you read, but hold me anyway and prop the book against my shoulder." He took a few breaths. "So fuck no. Don't diminish this shit to a brief meaningless glance. Shit like that doesn't matter."
Edward sat fearlessly on the ledge, his red-soled boots dangling off of the drop as if it were nothing. It was nice and quiet up here, the busy hustle and bustle of the crowded street below was muffled by the distance; up here Edward had the company of birds.(more)
It was an excellent place to go to think. He leaned back, his hands gripping the other end of the ledge, and looked to the blue spring sky. Up here, no one could hear him talk to himself - if the birds that strutted on the ledge around him even cared, they showed no indication of it.
Not that he had heard anything in days. It was almost amusing, how quickly he had gotten used to sharing himself with the quiet voice in his head, but the absence was not all that unsettling. Sariel came and went as he pleased; being incorporeal meant that he would drift in and out as he conducted his silent search of the city. Edward thought he was being silly - there was no way that the demons were basing themselves out Central, not now, at least - but Sariel seemed to think otherwise.
It wasn't Edward's legwork to do. He exhaled, and enjoyed the view. He was staying at Roy's - hell, he thought of Mustang as ROY now, how weird was that - Alphonse was safe and out of the line of fire, and soon he would be done with this angel business and he could get on with having a nice, normal, mundane life.
(Perhaps even with Roy.)
Hell, he couldn't think things like that in public, he had a reputation to uphold. Even if no one could see him blush from where he was perched. Edward scratched his nose and leaned forward.
You never noticed me before,
Until you just walked by one day,
I wish you hadn’t,
Because you and your assemble,
Noted me for the first time,
And ridiculed me,
(more) Fashioning lies,
With cheerful smirks,
I wish you had never walked by,
Because that day you became a crow,
A raven if you will,
When you could have been a canary,
Why did you do that?
You had a choice,
And I just don’t understand,
Why would you fill someone’s life,
With shrieks and cackles,
When you could fill it with friendly songs?
I’m sorry if I’m too trivial to understand,
But I still have an opinion,
And a part in this world,
So maybe for once,
Do someone a favor,
And don’t walk by,
If after hello,
All you have is lies.(less)
"Stop shouting, he'll come over here when he wants," Will is smiling far more than Danny thinks he should, but maybe it's just the booze helping to ease the tension out. He's quiet though, in a calm way that Danny tries hard to separate from(more) the band blaring in his ear and Vera swinging around the dance floor with Donald.
"How does it feel?" the song has switched, and Will's face lights up when he recognizes the tune. It's not Eva singing it, but a smaller, darker skinned woman that warbles away.
"How does what feel?"
"This being your last night."
Will shrugs. "Not much different."
"I hate this song," Danny makes it intending for it to be an offhand comment, but Will stops and looks him directly in the eye.
Danny scoffs. "Because, it's just stupidly sentimental. The war, all that shit. I don't know, I just don't like it."
"Maybe it holds too many memories."
Danny's glass is halfway to his lips, but he stops himself at the statement. "Memories of what?"
"I don't know. Maybe not memories, maybe just- thoughts."
Will pauses and stares into his drink. "Don't let it all walk by, Danny. You'll miss it when it's gone."
"If you're talking about feelings I might just have to smack you."