|
Intro, Yo
Welcome to my writing blog! Where all the rainbows and unicorns sparkle in unison and sunsets glow brighter! LOL JK XD
Review?
Credits
Icon: LJ/
Layout: tuesdaynight
Inspiration: DayBefore!Misery
|
Stuck On You
Written on: Thursday, November 19, 2009
Time: 2:17 AM
AN: New story. Keeps getting ideas on a spinoff from DN. Starring my OCs: two rivaled siblings, an ex-Wammy kid who's obsessed on being L, and a loyal best friend of one of the siblings. Maybe I'd tell you some about it, later though.
STUCK ON YOU
“Forever. I promise.”
Those words rang in his head. The young twenty four years old shook his head at the dream he had. His eyes blinked, once, twice, sleepily. The dream was so real; he could’ve sworn she was alive once more. But his heart plummeted as he realized it was only a dream. A stupid fucking dream, he thought bitterly.
The dark, night sky of Tokyo shone outside his window. He sighed uncomfortably as he stared outside; the lights seemed to shine brighter. He never left the city; he never came back to Franklin. The place held too many memories that kept him alive, when he shouldn’t be.
He strode lazily to the bedroom door, having fallen asleep near the glass windows. He recalled his dream once more, a memory that seemed distant now that he felt like a stranger himself.
It was the middle of the night. And Victoria Sterling was pacing forth and back across the room nervously, fingers occasionally slipping to her belt, where a silver dagger was clipped on. Tonight, she would make her final decision. The time has come for the young woman to leave the world, and she realized this was her last chance to stop her brother’s accomplice’s twisted desire to kill the world’s greatest detective. She had always said to herself, she would rather die in a blaze of glory than being old and weathered. And now this was her chance.
Thoughts were running through her mind. She had thought about this for weeks. She had talked to her best friend, the ever loyal Zach about her suicidal plan. He protested, but he let it go. It didn’t matter that he lost the chance to stay with her during her final moments; the stubborn girl won’t change her mind even if a gun was pressed to her head.
He knocked gently on the door, alerting her of his presence.
“Come in.” she said impatiently.
He slipped into the room, shrugging off his coat in one swift motion. His ashen blond hair was plastered to his face, as it had rained earlier. He strode over to the armchairs and sat down.
“You got everything set?”
She nodded, still pacing across the room. Her dark, hazel hair blew softly. He couldn’t help himself to stare at her. Dark hair, glimmering charcoal eyes, a white pajama top that was presumably belong to someone else, dark faded shorts, black vests, and a pair of Chuck Taylors. Her appearance would’ve looked fine, but it was ruined by a gun slung on her belt along with a dagger. Yep, she was ready to face death.
He sighed softly. This was the last time he was seeing her. He doesn’t even know if he would get to see her body. There were a lot of things he didn’t ask, he didn’t do with her. He never even got the nerve to tell her he cared; and not just those stupid ‘did you hit your head or something?’, because he wanted it to come from his heart, to show her that he really mean it.
“Tory? When will you leave?” he asked, realizing it sounded very childish but he continued with it.
She froze in her steps. He watched her carefully, knowing she was taking slow, but deep breaths while she concentrated. After a while he thought she didn’t hear him. Until she spoke softly.
“When I hear the bell rings. Once. The second time I know I’ll have a few minutes left. The third time, it’ll collide with my heartbeat.”
He nodded glumly as he forced back a tear. No, he can’t cry. He mustn’t be weak in front of her. He must be strong, ignorant. Like what she would like him to be. Not like…
“Zach, will you miss me when I’m gone?”
He looked up and saw her already turning her position to see him clearly. He could’ve sworn he saw sadness in those eyes.
“Yes. Very much.”
She stared back, mouth gaping open as if to say something, only to be closed a moment later. She carefully lowered her gaze, leaving him confused on why she would do it. A moment later she strode for the door.
Then it hit him; like a pounding bricks. The bells: it rang once. She has to go.
“W-wait! Victoria, wait!” he yelled as he struggled to get up quickly.
She turned to him, slender pale fingers turning the doorknob. She raised her eyebrow in amusement, as if to say ‘what the hell, you had a lot of time before.’
He stood up, standing about two inches taller than her. His arms went instinctively around her, pulling her closer, the only person who knows him better than himself. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, sobbing lightly as his fingers were entwined in her hair and the other between her own hands.
She patted his back awkwardly, not knowing what to do. But she squeezed his hand gently in support, making him somewhat calmer.
“Will you wait for me there?” he whispered softly to her ears, his voice strained.
“Forever. I promise.” She breathed out as she slowly pulled away.
They stared at each other one last time before she turned to leave.
“And tell Gevanni I love him.” she called out as she walked confidently out to the halls. And he was left alone, chuckling silently as his fingers reached out to the letter she had left for the dark haired man.
He closed the bedroom door. Noticing how empty the walls were. Just like him.
He gave the older man the letter, a week after a building in south Tokyo blew up. About two kilometers from the building, a motorcycle was parked. A familiar motorcycle that belonged to a hot tempered girl.
They all mourned her death in different ways. She had invaded their lives and made an unforgettable impression. Gevanni, for example, was left to cry over a death of a loved one. The one who confessed her feelings in her last moments of life. He looked crushed, but regained focus a few weeks after the incident.
But he, he never got out of it. Because his whole life revolves around her. Around everything she does. He was stuck on her, his mind, his will. And somehow it wouldn’t come off.
In the dim light, he could see the picture on his bedside drawer clearly. The one taken when the two best friends were thirteen and experiencing their first moments of freedom. Hopes shining in their eyes, with smiles to even strengthen the thought. It’s ironic, seeing as how one would die leaving the other alive but dead at the same time.
He closed his eyes, regaining his apathetic state of mind that he has recently acquired over the months. He didn’t want to be attached, no. But memories would keep haunting him. And somehow ten years ago he knew he was going to be stuck on her for a long time.
Forever and always.
He began whispering softly to a song he knew long ago, as he slipped into the cold covers of his bed, not once letting go to the pictures. His thumb brushed to the photograph of a girl with big dreams and shining confidence that becomes a plague to his mind.
“Stuck on you, till the end of time…”Labels: dn: revenge, fandom: death note, near, original spinoff, stephen loud, victoria knight, zachary fraun
|
Stuck On You
Written on: Thursday, November 19, 2009
Time: 2:17 AM
AN: New story. Keeps getting ideas on a spinoff from DN. Starring my OCs: two rivaled siblings, an ex-Wammy kid who's obsessed on being L, and a loyal best friend of one of the siblings. Maybe I'd tell you some about it, later though.
STUCK ON YOU
“Forever. I promise.”
Those words rang in his head. The young twenty four years old shook his head at the dream he had. His eyes blinked, once, twice, sleepily. The dream was so real; he could’ve sworn she was alive once more. But his heart plummeted as he realized it was only a dream. A stupid fucking dream, he thought bitterly.
The dark, night sky of Tokyo shone outside his window. He sighed uncomfortably as he stared outside; the lights seemed to shine brighter. He never left the city; he never came back to Franklin. The place held too many memories that kept him alive, when he shouldn’t be.
He strode lazily to the bedroom door, having fallen asleep near the glass windows. He recalled his dream once more, a memory that seemed distant now that he felt like a stranger himself.
It was the middle of the night. And Victoria Sterling was pacing forth and back across the room nervously, fingers occasionally slipping to her belt, where a silver dagger was clipped on. Tonight, she would make her final decision. The time has come for the young woman to leave the world, and she realized this was her last chance to stop her brother’s accomplice’s twisted desire to kill the world’s greatest detective. She had always said to herself, she would rather die in a blaze of glory than being old and weathered. And now this was her chance.
Thoughts were running through her mind. She had thought about this for weeks. She had talked to her best friend, the ever loyal Zach about her suicidal plan. He protested, but he let it go. It didn’t matter that he lost the chance to stay with her during her final moments; the stubborn girl won’t change her mind even if a gun was pressed to her head.
He knocked gently on the door, alerting her of his presence.
“Come in.” she said impatiently.
He slipped into the room, shrugging off his coat in one swift motion. His ashen blond hair was plastered to his face, as it had rained earlier. He strode over to the armchairs and sat down.
“You got everything set?”
She nodded, still pacing across the room. Her dark, hazel hair blew softly. He couldn’t help himself to stare at her. Dark hair, glimmering charcoal eyes, a white pajama top that was presumably belong to someone else, dark faded shorts, black vests, and a pair of Chuck Taylors. Her appearance would’ve looked fine, but it was ruined by a gun slung on her belt along with a dagger. Yep, she was ready to face death.
He sighed softly. This was the last time he was seeing her. He doesn’t even know if he would get to see her body. There were a lot of things he didn’t ask, he didn’t do with her. He never even got the nerve to tell her he cared; and not just those stupid ‘did you hit your head or something?’, because he wanted it to come from his heart, to show her that he really mean it.
“Tory? When will you leave?” he asked, realizing it sounded very childish but he continued with it.
She froze in her steps. He watched her carefully, knowing she was taking slow, but deep breaths while she concentrated. After a while he thought she didn’t hear him. Until she spoke softly.
“When I hear the bell rings. Once. The second time I know I’ll have a few minutes left. The third time, it’ll collide with my heartbeat.”
He nodded glumly as he forced back a tear. No, he can’t cry. He mustn’t be weak in front of her. He must be strong, ignorant. Like what she would like him to be. Not like…
“Zach, will you miss me when I’m gone?”
He looked up and saw her already turning her position to see him clearly. He could’ve sworn he saw sadness in those eyes.
“Yes. Very much.”
She stared back, mouth gaping open as if to say something, only to be closed a moment later. She carefully lowered her gaze, leaving him confused on why she would do it. A moment later she strode for the door.
Then it hit him; like a pounding bricks. The bells: it rang once. She has to go.
“W-wait! Victoria, wait!” he yelled as he struggled to get up quickly.
She turned to him, slender pale fingers turning the doorknob. She raised her eyebrow in amusement, as if to say ‘what the hell, you had a lot of time before.’
He stood up, standing about two inches taller than her. His arms went instinctively around her, pulling her closer, the only person who knows him better than himself. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, sobbing lightly as his fingers were entwined in her hair and the other between her own hands.
She patted his back awkwardly, not knowing what to do. But she squeezed his hand gently in support, making him somewhat calmer.
“Will you wait for me there?” he whispered softly to her ears, his voice strained.
“Forever. I promise.” She breathed out as she slowly pulled away.
They stared at each other one last time before she turned to leave.
“And tell Gevanni I love him.” she called out as she walked confidently out to the halls. And he was left alone, chuckling silently as his fingers reached out to the letter she had left for the dark haired man.
He closed the bedroom door. Noticing how empty the walls were. Just like him.
He gave the older man the letter, a week after a building in south Tokyo blew up. About two kilometers from the building, a motorcycle was parked. A familiar motorcycle that belonged to a hot tempered girl.
They all mourned her death in different ways. She had invaded their lives and made an unforgettable impression. Gevanni, for example, was left to cry over a death of a loved one. The one who confessed her feelings in her last moments of life. He looked crushed, but regained focus a few weeks after the incident.
But he, he never got out of it. Because his whole life revolves around her. Around everything she does. He was stuck on her, his mind, his will. And somehow it wouldn’t come off.
In the dim light, he could see the picture on his bedside drawer clearly. The one taken when the two best friends were thirteen and experiencing their first moments of freedom. Hopes shining in their eyes, with smiles to even strengthen the thought. It’s ironic, seeing as how one would die leaving the other alive but dead at the same time.
He closed his eyes, regaining his apathetic state of mind that he has recently acquired over the months. He didn’t want to be attached, no. But memories would keep haunting him. And somehow ten years ago he knew he was going to be stuck on her for a long time.
Forever and always.
He began whispering softly to a song he knew long ago, as he slipped into the cold covers of his bed, not once letting go to the pictures. His thumb brushed to the photograph of a girl with big dreams and shining confidence that becomes a plague to his mind.
“Stuck on you, till the end of time…”Labels: dn: revenge, fandom: death note, near, original spinoff, stephen loud, victoria knight, zachary fraun
|
The Puppeteer
Hey you! Yes you! You're reading the profile of the writer of this suckass stories you just read.
So the name's Tian. Not really my name but you can call me that. Still a young person with wild imaginations; perhaps you'll see more of it. If you live to see the chance.
|
More?
|
Archive
-
Stuck On You
|