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fellowshippers2004-03-16 10:04 pm
perfect-oasis.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-03-16 10:04 pm
One, Part 1/4
Title: One, Part 1/4
Author: The Phantom Writer![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
silentnumbsmoke
Pairing: BB/DM
Pairing: PG-13
Feedback: I love feedback. I truly do. It gives me warm fuzzies. And everyone loves warm fuzzies, don't they?
Disclaimer: This isn't real. Nope, not so much.
Notes: I honestly don't know how I came up with this. Some people suggested that I continue one of my stories, Vacant. This is not a continuation, but it, unintionally, holds quite a similarity to the other story.
red_moon_rising: Danke! Du bist wunderbar!
Angst!!!
The entire story is already written, so it's my current plan to post Part II tomorrow.
It’s been an hour since Dominic left. One hour. Sixty minutes. Normally, I wouldn’t be nervous about this. If anyone can take a simple trip to the drugstore and turn it into an hour-long adventure, it’s Dom. Since moving here, he’s gotten to be on first name basis with everyone: shop owners, postal workers, the mayor… Just the other day, Dominic and I were walking through downtown, when we passed a homeless man, who waved cheerfully and thanked Dom by name as he accepted the fifty-pound note. Which is why I would generally be completely positive that Dom’s just out there, chatting away to the little old lady who sits behind the counter, counting change.
That is, I’d be positive of that if I didn’t have this feeling of dread gnawing away at my stomach; chipping away at my security. I've always read the comics every Sunday morning, and I've found that I'm absurdly jealous of Linus from Peanuts. He's got his security blanket, and as long as he's clutching it, he's calm and collected. Maybe Dominic’s my security blanket. Maybe, now that’s he’s been gone for an hour, I’m beginning to go through withdrawals. All this only shines light on my normally well-hidden paranoia, my anxieties and fears.
I've got this horrible fear: I'm terrified of losing Dominic. He’s one of my best mates, the best I’ve ever had. He is, without question, the one person I love and care about more than anything else in the world.
Dom keeps me young. He keeps me alive. His constant presence has kept me happy, saving me from depression many times and I don't know what I'd do without him...glancing down at my watch yet again, I pray I'll never have to find out.
I've been fiddling with my mobile phone for over thirty minutes, so I flip it shut once more and place it gently in it's charger. I sit down, sighing, and eye the front door expectantly. When I called him a few minutes ago, I let the phone ring ten times, then left a stumbling message on Dom’s voice mail. Now I have true reason to worry. Dom is nothing if he’s not friendly, so he might have ignored his ringing mobile to be polite… but he knows my ring. If I let the phone ring more than five times before hanging up, then Dominic knows that what I have to say is important, and he usually courteously bows out of a conversation to take my call. And he knows when it’s me… Dom grinned cheekily when he programmed his mobile to have a different ring when I call. Wherever he is right now, it’s ringing the title song from Beauty and the Beast. I smile, recalling several playful banters about which of us was the beauty and which was the beast. To be fair, we gave the song several alternate titles, all with the correct number of syllables: ‘Beauty and Beauty,’ ‘The Beast and the Beast,’ and ‘The Two Beasts In Love.’
My smile fades and I bite my lip, staring at the door, willing it to open, and ignoring the voice in my head that reminds me of a familiar proverb: A watched pot never boils.
Fuck the proverb. I'll stare at the door until it opens and I see Dom again.
Author: The Phantom Writer
silentnumbsmoke Pairing: BB/DM
Pairing: PG-13
Feedback: I love feedback. I truly do. It gives me warm fuzzies. And everyone loves warm fuzzies, don't they?
Disclaimer: This isn't real. Nope, not so much.
Notes: I honestly don't know how I came up with this. Some people suggested that I continue one of my stories, Vacant. This is not a continuation, but it, unintionally, holds quite a similarity to the other story.
red_moon_rising: Danke! Du bist wunderbar!Angst!!!
The entire story is already written, so it's my current plan to post Part II tomorrow.
It’s been an hour since Dominic left. One hour. Sixty minutes. Normally, I wouldn’t be nervous about this. If anyone can take a simple trip to the drugstore and turn it into an hour-long adventure, it’s Dom. Since moving here, he’s gotten to be on first name basis with everyone: shop owners, postal workers, the mayor… Just the other day, Dominic and I were walking through downtown, when we passed a homeless man, who waved cheerfully and thanked Dom by name as he accepted the fifty-pound note. Which is why I would generally be completely positive that Dom’s just out there, chatting away to the little old lady who sits behind the counter, counting change.
That is, I’d be positive of that if I didn’t have this feeling of dread gnawing away at my stomach; chipping away at my security. I've always read the comics every Sunday morning, and I've found that I'm absurdly jealous of Linus from Peanuts. He's got his security blanket, and as long as he's clutching it, he's calm and collected. Maybe Dominic’s my security blanket. Maybe, now that’s he’s been gone for an hour, I’m beginning to go through withdrawals. All this only shines light on my normally well-hidden paranoia, my anxieties and fears.
I've got this horrible fear: I'm terrified of losing Dominic. He’s one of my best mates, the best I’ve ever had. He is, without question, the one person I love and care about more than anything else in the world.
Dom keeps me young. He keeps me alive. His constant presence has kept me happy, saving me from depression many times and I don't know what I'd do without him...glancing down at my watch yet again, I pray I'll never have to find out.
I've been fiddling with my mobile phone for over thirty minutes, so I flip it shut once more and place it gently in it's charger. I sit down, sighing, and eye the front door expectantly. When I called him a few minutes ago, I let the phone ring ten times, then left a stumbling message on Dom’s voice mail. Now I have true reason to worry. Dom is nothing if he’s not friendly, so he might have ignored his ringing mobile to be polite… but he knows my ring. If I let the phone ring more than five times before hanging up, then Dominic knows that what I have to say is important, and he usually courteously bows out of a conversation to take my call. And he knows when it’s me… Dom grinned cheekily when he programmed his mobile to have a different ring when I call. Wherever he is right now, it’s ringing the title song from Beauty and the Beast. I smile, recalling several playful banters about which of us was the beauty and which was the beast. To be fair, we gave the song several alternate titles, all with the correct number of syllables: ‘Beauty and Beauty,’ ‘The Beast and the Beast,’ and ‘The Two Beasts In Love.’
My smile fades and I bite my lip, staring at the door, willing it to open, and ignoring the voice in my head that reminds me of a familiar proverb: A watched pot never boils.
Fuck the proverb. I'll stare at the door until it opens and I see Dom again.