Alternate Realities

Get It Together

The following 4 prompts were submitted as anonymous asks some time ago. I've been slowly piecing them together, and then you know, the holidays and such happened. So here's a little FADE for all ya'll out there.

Prompt 1: She looked at him longingly. Oh how she wished she was in his arms, looking in to his eyes as he looked into hers, smiling at each other. But no, it could never happen. They were from two different worlds. She shed a tear and then another and another until she was crying so much she could hardly breathe. She did the only thing she could still do: she fled.

Prompt 2: He looked at her. She was beautiful; she always had been. "Hey." He reached out to turn her face towards him. She looked into his eyes, and he looked into her, searching for something, anything. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Prompt 3: "You don't have to do that. Really, I'm fine." "You're right. I don't have to do this. I do, however, want to."

Prompt 4: "You're a dork. But you're my dork." "I know. You're stuck with me."

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Diana Farley, you will not cry over a boy. She chastised herself, smacked her own cheeks hard and even stomped on her left toe. She needed a distraction, something to call her focus away from her cracking heart. But if she moved from her hiding spot, she'd inevitably run into other soldiers, possibly even her superiors. And Diana Farley did not show weakness. Diana Farley is not weak.

She took deep breaths, one after another and blotted her eyes on the back of her jacket. She leaned over and looked through the crack in the doorway, estimating if the hall was clear or not. She counted to ten, gripped a broom handle in case she needed a cover, and stepped out of the closet. The hallway was empty. She glanced for one long moment at the doorway to Mackenzie Mayne's quarters and moved in the opposite direction. Watching Shade lip-locked with another woman shouldn't have effected her. Now that there was no question about his feelings, she wouldn't be caught off guard again.

Safe behind her own door, intrusive thought cornered the girl that barely survived under all the armor she'd collected. She'd sought him out the day before a casual invitation on her lips but an unexpressed though had dried her throat. Their passing the hall had started with his easy smile and ended with her scowl. Still, she never thought her panicked rebuke might chase him so quickly into a different room. Then again, who's to say he hadn't been in different rooms every other night? Shade Barrow was clever, witty, handsome, and exceedingly happy to be alive. Which made him a magnet, she couldn't deny how she'd enjoyed watching him in the mess hall, looking into his eyes, smiling with him across a pillow. Then she was crying again, dashing his face from her mind by thrashing her pillow against the wall.

Do not get attached. Rule number one echoed in her mind. And rule number two filled her first glass. Trust no one but yourself. And with that, she fled into the oblivion of the bottle.

Farley blocked out some light with her palm over her eyes and pretended to read a report beside her breakfast tray. By her father's estimations, they'd be at the base for a couple more days and then she'd make her way to meet with Mare Barrow at Whitefire Palace. Mare Barrow, sister of Shade Barrow, Shade...

On queue he took up the seat across from her. She glanced up long enough to confirm it was him.

"You a messenger now, Barrow?"

The use of his last name formalized the interaction, he straightened his posture and responded, "No, sir."

"Then what?" she snapped.

He waited, hands fidgeting in front of him. She forced her back straight, her eyes forward. She saw those kind eyes, crisp and contemplating, far too intelligent for the tasks they'd given him lately. His hand appeared on the table, palm up, asking for hers. She looked at it then back up.