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fellowshippers2004-07-20 03:53 pm
penguingal.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-07-20 03:53 pm
Sinking feeling
Yet another challenge fic...
Title: Sinking feeling
Author: penguingal
Pairing: VigBean
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angsty breakup fic. If this is your OTP, please forgive me.
Disclaimer: I'm sure that whatever really goes on is even more twisted.
A/N: For the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lotrpschallenge 13, write a story about a breakup in the present tense with no backstory. Lucky 13, eh? Well, I was going to avoid this one altogether because I didn't think I could write breakup fic, since my style is usually just happy, plotless shagging. But this one came to me in almost the complete form you see it in. There's more to this, but what I have so far fits the challenge best.
I know I must look ridiculous, standing there with my mouth hanging open. But there is literally nothing I can do about it as all the signals from my brain to the rest of my body seem to have stopped in order to devote all its resources to understanding what you just said.
“Wait, what?”
“I said I’m leaving. It’s over. Finis. Kaput. Done. What part of that don’t you understand?”
“All of it. Wait, Sean, seriously. Why is all this happening? Why now?” I can’t keep the confused pleading out of my voice, just hoping that you’ll stay and explain it to me. I don’t understand and there’s this buzzing in my ears that’s making it hard to concentrate.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Viggo. If you really don’t know, then why should I waste me breath trying to explain it to you?” You blow your bangs out of your eyes like you always do when you’re frustrated as you toss the last of your things from the dresser into your bag. They land with a thunk, an echo almost as hollow as this feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll come by for the rest of my things,” you mutter as you brush past me into the hallway.
“Sean... wait... Sean...” I follow, throwing disconnected words at your back as you retreat from me until finally we are in the living room, and you are inches from the door. “Sean! Please, can’t we talk about this?”
You don’t turn around. “It’s too late for that.” And just like that, you’re gone.
It’s not until my ass hits the floor that I realize I’m sinking.
x-posted to my journal.
Title: Sinking feeling
Author: penguingal
Pairing: VigBean
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angsty breakup fic. If this is your OTP, please forgive me.
Disclaimer: I'm sure that whatever really goes on is even more twisted.
A/N: For the
lotrpschallenge 13, write a story about a breakup in the present tense with no backstory. Lucky 13, eh? Well, I was going to avoid this one altogether because I didn't think I could write breakup fic, since my style is usually just happy, plotless shagging. But this one came to me in almost the complete form you see it in. There's more to this, but what I have so far fits the challenge best.I know I must look ridiculous, standing there with my mouth hanging open. But there is literally nothing I can do about it as all the signals from my brain to the rest of my body seem to have stopped in order to devote all its resources to understanding what you just said.
“Wait, what?”
“I said I’m leaving. It’s over. Finis. Kaput. Done. What part of that don’t you understand?”
“All of it. Wait, Sean, seriously. Why is all this happening? Why now?” I can’t keep the confused pleading out of my voice, just hoping that you’ll stay and explain it to me. I don’t understand and there’s this buzzing in my ears that’s making it hard to concentrate.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Viggo. If you really don’t know, then why should I waste me breath trying to explain it to you?” You blow your bangs out of your eyes like you always do when you’re frustrated as you toss the last of your things from the dresser into your bag. They land with a thunk, an echo almost as hollow as this feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll come by for the rest of my things,” you mutter as you brush past me into the hallway.
“Sean... wait... Sean...” I follow, throwing disconnected words at your back as you retreat from me until finally we are in the living room, and you are inches from the door. “Sean! Please, can’t we talk about this?”
You don’t turn around. “It’s too late for that.” And just like that, you’re gone.
It’s not until my ass hits the floor that I realize I’m sinking.
x-posted to my journal.