Simon Basset One Shots

glimpse of the future

The distinct scent of stale cigar smoke and strong cologne followed Simon Basset on his trail as he departed the gentleman's club. The stench sticking to each woven strand of his coat, finding a place within the stitching to assault his senses repeatedly with the overwhelming reek of arrogant and belligerent men. But as the cool wind of the late night air drifted across his face, his boots beginning their leisurely paced decent down the vast flight of cement steps, the rich scent of the evening air inhaled into his lungs washed away the stench. Leaving his senses clear and refreshed, the chill dancing against his bare flesh as the darkness of the night enclosed on him. The strong taste of whiskey lingered on his tastebuds, but his mind was clear of any haze the alcohol might have caused. Only a drink or two downed in the far corner of the room, burning away the emotions he desperately tried to rid, but eventually subsiding, leaving him to his near sober thoughts yet again. 

The sky was left nearly starless, as the dense cloud cover hid away any sign of the moonlight peaking high in the night. The tiny twinkles, often forgotten in the abyss of darkness, introducing a void to the blanket that casted itself over the streets of London. The air Simon inhaled in deep breaths, feeling as the oxygen rushed in and out of his lungs with steady exhales, was tinged with a slight chill. Autumn on the very heel of the last summer month clinging to the atmosphere, for the humidity and warmth of the day disappeared but the chill that had blown in with the soft breeze, wasn't yet strong enough to sway one to claim the next season was upon the city.

The air was clear and crisp, yet there was a palpable dampness that tainted every chilled summer evening breath taken. One that spoke of impending precipitation, rain lingering within the shadows of clouds that were nearly hidden within the vast canvas of indigo darkness above him. The Earth smelled richer when rain was upon it, even as the raindrops had yet to fall from the skies, there was something about the approaching weather that brought the essence of the ground and the plants to life. 

Simon released a deep exhale, not yet cold enough for it to appear visible before his eyes in the open air, but he could feel as it faintly washed back over his flesh as he walked through the invisible presence of his sigh. His hands twitched at his sides, his fingers fidgeting restlessly, curling into fists only to unclench them in the very same movement. He knew it was his body's way of unconsciously taking on his stress and overwhelming thoughts in a physical formation, for his boots had done the same thing inside the club. One leg crossed over the other as he sipped slowly from his glass, his ankle anxiously jittering as though he had fresh adrenaline soaring through his veins, forcing upon him the need to move. The only part of himself that felt as though it was barely moving an inch, was his mind. It felt frozen, like a carriage stuck in thick mud without the slightest luck of immediate freedom as the wheels remained buried within the mess. He had a million different nagging thoughts, fearful worries, more emotions swirling than he could possibly hope to name, and yet it felt as though his mind simply wouldn't work the way it always had. Leaving Simon Basset to feel the one way he absolutely dreaded the most... out of control. 

Releasing another deep sigh out into the air, as his boots slowly lead him down towards the last third of the steps remaining, his eyes lifted to look towards the street ahead of him. The far street lamp on the parallel sidewalk glowed a faint, dwindling orange, while some lights remained on in buildings lining the street. But the lack of sufficient light was not the sight to capture Simon's eye, but rather the shadowy silhouette of someone he would always be able to identify, no matter the absence of light. She stood on the final step, barely an inch or two off the ground, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She wrung them together, over and over again, a nervous fidget that he'd witnessed from time to time in her demeanor. She seemed so delicate and frail as the darkness of the night stood behind her, a vast canvas seeming to swallow her shape into the shadows. But her head was balanced on her shoulders, her gaze not aimed towards the steps beneath her or off in a different direction, but rather focused on his now stalled frame. For his footsteps faltered the moment his eye landed upon her unexpected presence, his boots nearly tripping over the step he was just about to descend, but catching himself in time.