ext_55789 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
one900.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2004-03-31 04:54 pm
one900.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2004-03-31 04:54 pm
(no subject)
Untitled
PG-13
DM/EW
A/N: Meh.
*
“You need to focus,” Elijah was saying. He nudged his shoulder into the seat, a frown marring his face as the cabin pressure shot up.
Dom blinked. “What?”
“Focus,” Elijah repeated. He fidgeted again, then bent forward and grabbed his backpack from underneath the seat in front of him.
Dom examined Elijah's hunched form, then flicked his gaze back to the window.
“Don't focus on the fucking clouds,” Elijah snapped. Dom looked to his right again to see Elijah struggling with tangled earphones.
“But clouds are nice,” he heard himself say.
Elijah sighed. “You have to wake up.” He looked up exasperatedly and held out the mess of cords like a peace offering.
“Can you fix these for me?”
*
Dom shrugged his head deeper into the pillow and glanced at Elijah's unwavering eyes. “What are you looking at?” he asked lowly, voice painting pictures of white sand and cresting waves.
Elijah held a steady gaze. “At you.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, as if he knew a joke that the rest of the world wasn't in on. Or that Dom didn't know, anyway.
Dom rubbed a rough palm across the expanse between Elijah's shoulder blades. The skin was strikingly chilly, as if cooled by prolonged contact with some sort of steel.
*
“Ready?”
Dom nodded. Ready for what?
Elijah smiled for what seemed like the first time in years. “Ok, then.” He took a deep breath and Dom somehow felt compelled to copy him. He clutched at Elijah's fingers, and blueish-purple cuticles stared back.
“Goodnight and goodbye, Dominic Monaghan,” Elijah breathed, words barely grazing the stubble on Dom's cheek. He closed his eyes, the slight smile still hanging onto his mouth. Dom followed suit while silently repeating Elijah's words, lips struggling over dry teeth.
Goodnight and goodbye, he mouthed. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that Elijah was doing the same.
*
PG-13
DM/EW
A/N: Meh.
*
“You need to focus,” Elijah was saying. He nudged his shoulder into the seat, a frown marring his face as the cabin pressure shot up.
Dom blinked. “What?”
“Focus,” Elijah repeated. He fidgeted again, then bent forward and grabbed his backpack from underneath the seat in front of him.
Dom examined Elijah's hunched form, then flicked his gaze back to the window.
“Don't focus on the fucking clouds,” Elijah snapped. Dom looked to his right again to see Elijah struggling with tangled earphones.
“But clouds are nice,” he heard himself say.
Elijah sighed. “You have to wake up.” He looked up exasperatedly and held out the mess of cords like a peace offering.
“Can you fix these for me?”
*
Dom shrugged his head deeper into the pillow and glanced at Elijah's unwavering eyes. “What are you looking at?” he asked lowly, voice painting pictures of white sand and cresting waves.
Elijah held a steady gaze. “At you.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, as if he knew a joke that the rest of the world wasn't in on. Or that Dom didn't know, anyway.
Dom rubbed a rough palm across the expanse between Elijah's shoulder blades. The skin was strikingly chilly, as if cooled by prolonged contact with some sort of steel.
*
“Ready?”
Dom nodded. Ready for what?
Elijah smiled for what seemed like the first time in years. “Ok, then.” He took a deep breath and Dom somehow felt compelled to copy him. He clutched at Elijah's fingers, and blueish-purple cuticles stared back.
“Goodnight and goodbye, Dominic Monaghan,” Elijah breathed, words barely grazing the stubble on Dom's cheek. He closed his eyes, the slight smile still hanging onto his mouth. Dom followed suit while silently repeating Elijah's words, lips struggling over dry teeth.
Goodnight and goodbye, he mouthed. He didn't have to open his eyes to know that Elijah was doing the same.
*
no subject
no subject
i don't know what i was trying to do either. heh. i think it turned into Dead Elijah along the way, with him telling Dom to wake up and the cold skin and the fingernails and such. bleh. heheh.
i have all the crap i wrote in my memories, and the last few drabbles have all been in a sort of disjointed manner like this ficlet. so yeah. self pimpage up the wazoo. heh.