Wherein a word or phrase can be the start of something fun and wonderful.
Some are simply stand-alone ficlets or drabbles. Some link up with published stories. Some end up previews for things yet to come.
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There's nothing as calming as stepping over the threshold after a long and harrowing day on the streets. It's an invisible security blanket that wraps around his shoulders, pulling a small smile onto his lips as he closes the door behind him.
He can still smell her perfume, lingering in the undisturbed air, that she had sprayed on this morning before rushing out to greet the day. She was always in a rush. Always distracted. Always looking forward, never back. He liked that about her. Liked everything about her, to be frank.
There's the temptation to twiddle the keys around in his fingers as he wanders deeper into this sanctuary, a habit he's never been able to break. Determined to enjoy the temporary peace he's found, he pockets them. The tinkling sound of metal on metal can be saved for later tonight when he can't sleep.
His smile breaks, pushing into a wider grin when he spies the dirty dishes in the sink. She didn't quite wash away all the leftovers in her rush to be out the door. So like her.
Rolling up his shirtsleeves he goes about finishing the task, humming to himself as he pulls the dish washing liquid from beneath the sink, squeezing a small bit onto the sponge she left next to the faucet. Takes a bit to get the water to the right temperature. Maybe he needs to take a look at the water heater next time he's able?
It only takes him a few minutes to clean the plates and utensils, and rinse out the mug she used for her morning coffee. Once everything's into the rack to dry he gives himself an assured nod. These small things he can do for her bolster him. They remind him that he's needed in her life. That he's useful.
He glances down at his watch, eyes glancing off the bottom of the tattoo he'd gotten in her honor as he checks the time, the very edge of the heart peeking out from beneath the rolled cuff of his sleeve. There wasn't time enough to take a look at the water heater today, not unless he wanted to be caught greased up and with a wrench in his hand.
Continuing his progress through the house his fingers start to itch, keen for another task. He could give in and resume twiddling his keys as he walks from room to room, but... no. That was a sign of the near-constant restlessness that he felt. He came here for peace, for the clarity that came with being so close to her.
If only he could be with her.
"Time to go." The sound of his voice, though muted as it echoes through the surrounding rooms, wipes away the feeling of longing. He could belong here. He does belong here.
Pausing in the doorway to her bedroom, he stares at the half-made bed, fighting the urge to finish making it. The rumpled sheets all but shout to be touched. If he gave in there's the danger he would lay down, first, just to get lost in her scent.
He won't allow himself that again, not so soon after the last time.
