Random shorts

Early

WRITING PROMPT #2:

YOUR CHARACTER LOOKS AT DEATH.

DEATH LOOKS AT YOUR CHARACTER.

"YOU'RE EARLY," DEATH FINALLY SAYS...

When Zac opened his eyes he found himself sitting on a really comfortable chair in a posh looking study of sorts. There were no windows that he could see, but then again dark oak shelves took much of the available space lining the walls and filled to bursting with tombs of indiscernible titles. He squinted at them but concluded that they weren't in any language he could understand. Not that it means much since all he knew were a few words in Spanish, and how to order coffee in German. What little he could see of the walls were white that accented the dark wood of the shelves and the floor nicely. There was a white faux fur rug under his feet that felt quite soft and comforting. Pausing Zac glanced at his feet. He frowned, wondering briefly why he wasn't wearing any footwear before shrugging it off as unimportant at this point and going back to his perusal of the room. Overall the room had a modern flair to it despite its traditional furniture. Glancing up he jumped slightly, finally noticing the man behind the desk.

The man was sitting in a black leather chair, hunched over a multitude of paperwork strewn about his massive desk haphazardly. Some of them threatening to fall off the edge. Is that a quill? Zac blinked, the man was using a jet black quill of all things to write and that was honestly kinda cool if a bit outdated. Sitting back he observed the quietly working man behind the desk. He had a mess of dark hair that was graying at the temples, it's messiness an evidence of him constantly running his hand through it while he worked. He had a square-shaped face with a jaw-line that could probably chisel granite with high cheekbones, a hint of stubble and piercing blue eyes. And while they are not directed at him at the moment Zac was sure the man would see right through to his soul when he eventually noticed his presence. Right now, he was frowning at the paper in front of him, biting his bottom lip frustration evident on his face.

He looked tall, roughly 6' 5'' maybe, broad shoulders, and looked fit. From what Zac could see he was wearing a white button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up, and a thin black tie hanging loosely from his collar. Bracing his elbow on the armrest he placed his head in his hand and let out an almost silent sigh. He really should say something but didn't want to interrupt the man. So Zac sat back and contemplated the situation he has found himself in. Looking down, he was still in the same black jeans and green button up he threw on this morning, and he was still barefoot. He still wasn't sure how he got here, and judging from the lack of reaction from the other man, Zac assumed neither did they; since they have yet to even notice his presence. Either that or he's being dismissed as unimportant currently. Compared to him Zac was glaringly different. He was 5' 10", with his round, boyish face, dark blond hair that curled around his face and hazel eyes. While the man looked tall and muscular, Zac was of average height and had a lithe form, perfect for the dancer that he is. Come to think of it, he was probably late for his dance class. But being found in an unknown location with an equally unknown man took somewhat of a precedence over a school and possibly missed classes. Crossing his left leg over his right knee he looked up. Finally, the man behind the desk sighed and leaned back in his chair, seemingly finished with his paperwork rubbing his eyes, groaning softly. Zac could practically see the tension and stress melt off his shoulders as he relaxed deeper against his chair.

"Are you alright?"

Zac had to stifle his laugh when the man yelped and promptly fell off his chair in shock, upsetting the papers on his desk and sending them to the floor with him. Confused blue eyes peered at him over the desk, Zac just sent him an amused smile, raising an eyebrow questioningly.