Athos (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scars_on_hearts) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2016-01-26 10:32 am
scars_on_hearts) wrote in muserevival2016-01-26 10:32 am
Entry tags:
Drabbles- Table set #1
Talent
[Modern Au]
Athos reached out fumbling for a pack of cigarettes and a battered Zippo lighter. Lit up, exhaled.
He thought about coffee. Instead he flopped back against the pillow, arm across his eyes, cigarette dangling from his lips. A growth of unkempt beard and matted hair gave him the look of someone who had just crawled into bed to die.
Self destruction was a talent. If it was a talent he came to the conclusion he didn’t have much in way of the gift for it. He was still alive. He grinned into the darkness, “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
Heart
Constance nervously plucked at the silk material of her dress. Athos watched her briefly beneath a hooded gaze. He should say something, anything; he opened his mouth and closed it when nothing of importance seemed to come out. Constance fluttered more nervously next to him and he thought frantically about what would ease a woman’s nerves on her wedding day. He should say something, anything.
“You look beautiful.”
Constance rewarded him with a beaming smile, her nervousness vanished. He took her arm then, hand in hers as he walked her down the aisle to give her away to his friend.
[Athos|BBC Musketeers|Canon]
[Modern Au]
Athos reached out fumbling for a pack of cigarettes and a battered Zippo lighter. Lit up, exhaled.
He thought about coffee. Instead he flopped back against the pillow, arm across his eyes, cigarette dangling from his lips. A growth of unkempt beard and matted hair gave him the look of someone who had just crawled into bed to die.
Self destruction was a talent. If it was a talent he came to the conclusion he didn’t have much in way of the gift for it. He was still alive. He grinned into the darkness, “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
Heart
Constance nervously plucked at the silk material of her dress. Athos watched her briefly beneath a hooded gaze. He should say something, anything; he opened his mouth and closed it when nothing of importance seemed to come out. Constance fluttered more nervously next to him and he thought frantically about what would ease a woman’s nerves on her wedding day. He should say something, anything.
“You look beautiful.”
Constance rewarded him with a beaming smile, her nervousness vanished. He took her arm then, hand in hers as he walked her down the aisle to give her away to his friend.
[Athos|BBC Musketeers|Canon]