Something in the Way...
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- Votes 9
- Parts 1
"Kurt's eyes flutter open as the small plane makes contact with the tarmac. He pushes himself up slowly, glancing around with his sunken blue eyes, taking a long breath as he stretches, pushing the back of his arm into his forehead. He looks down to his watch as he draws his arm away, his eyes moving over the red numbers that blinked at him ominously, signaling the battery was to die soon. Kurt chuckles lowly, his eyes shifting down as he pushes a cigarette into his mouth.
At least they had something in common.
It was Sunday, April 2nd, 1994
7:42 am, and Kurt Cobain, along with his thrift-store Timex piece's batteries, were going to die soon."
Trigger Warnings (Subject to Update or Change as Story is Written):
• Mentions/ Depictions of Drug Use
• Graphic Mentions/ Depictions of Self Harm/ Suicide
Note:
I never thought I was going to be writing this, to be quite honest. I've been really shy to because I've only really written about musicals and such, but I do believe it's time I tackle this. I hope in every way to do it tastefully. I sincerely apologize if anything that happens is historically or canonically inaccurate. I'm new to the Nirvana.... "fandom?" And I'm doing my best. Please enjoy.
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#264
kurtcobain
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"Stop messing with me." He threatened through his teeth, his breathing as erratic as mine. I let out a stifled laugh. "Or else?" He inhaled deep through his nose, poked the inside of his cheek, as if he was trying to make a tough decision, all the while keeping such an intense stare on my eyes, it was almost uncomfortable. "I won, so you stop." James' mouth was so close, I could feel his words in mine. "Think again, Jamesie." I raised my left hand to his throat, holding the same dagger I had knocked out of his hand before. In the middle of all the rolling around, I'd managed to catch it. A strike of luck, really. James grunted a labored sigh and inched even further towards me. "You're fucking impossible..." His eyes flicked over to my lips. I felt my stomach tingle. "You're heavy." I complained, my voice a little more than a rasp. His index finger grazed on my jaw. "You can take it." [---] My life was perfectly fine. Adoptive daughter of a millionaire, unofficial leader of a team of private security, friend to many unstable, skilled fighters, free as a little bird to do whatever I wanted - as long as I kept it out of the media's scent. Then along came James Fucking Blackwell to ruin everything. Just because I happened to rescue him during my time as an asset for the US Army, the damn asshole convinced himself I was some sort of angel and wouldn't leave me alone. I hated him. Kinda. [---] All comments welcomed, but please be kind to one another. Possible TW: - cursing (a lot) - mentions of SA - mentions of miscarriage - depiction of violence - mention of weapons - mature content All rights of this story belong to me. Any similarities with real life are merely coincidental as the story is entirely fictional. Hope you enjoy reading <3
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