She slipped out of his grasp like sand sifting between his fingers, or water sliding from palms. She, who filled his lonely existence with a momentary brightness, like the starts in an ink black sky. She entered his life with the wind on her heel; never to be around for a long. Her name was Meredith. When she smiled, he imagined being Shakespeare and writing her poem upon poem in homage to her glow. When he ran his fingers through her hair, he thought not even the prettiest flower in all the realms could make it any more beautiful. When he looked straight into brown eyes, the shade of milk chocolate, he thought he would melt in her depths.
He did not fall in love with her on first sight. It was the second time he saw her, sitting beneath a tree in the park on a beautiful summer day, that he found his breath taken away. She was like angel (and he could make such similes because he had seen angels and she rivaled their magnificence). The sun’s rays brightened her hair and all of its highlights; sparkling brown and gold like desert sands. The book in her slender hands was The Great Gatsby. He sat beside her and introduced himself.
In later years he would look back upon their romance and wonder if she thought of him as she thought of the heroes in her fantasy novels. She was a librarian and spent her life in books, living vicariously through fictional and sometimes non-fictional characters. She lived her life through him and his stories. He told her many of them and opened her mind to the possibilities of the universe. Meredith laughed when he first told her who he was, and he was not mad, or perplexed by the reaction. Instead he hoped to make her laugh more than once. He wanted to hear that sound, like a wind chime tinkling in the wind, as many times as possible.
She was nothing like Gatsby’s Daisy, but perhaps he was Gatsby—and yet he was not.
He was more like Frederic Henry deserting from the Italian military in the hopes that he could spend the rest of his life with Catherine Barkley, only to lose her, suddenly, in childbirth.
Meredith gave him a copy of A Farewell to Arms, remarking he would like it.
"It’s a tragic love story." she said.
"Why does it have to be tragic? I’m not very fond of tragic things."
"Everyone needs a little tragedy. Not everything is happy and fun, you know."
"I’d rather it be."
"I think most would." She paused. "What will you do when I get old and gray and you are still young?"
"I will pretend to be old and gray with you."
"You wouldn’t have to do that."
"No, I suppose not. I could stop time for you. We could be together for eternity."
"Eternity is an awfully long time." Her brows turned upward, and her smile faded. "Are you really offering?"
"I would never say it if I wasn’t."
"Eternity is an awfully long time."
"It’s only a few blinks. You wouldn’t even notice."
"I think I would. I think I would always notice.
Give me a few days.
I’ll tell you then”
He looked away for one moment and she was gone, nothing more than an old gravestone in an old cemetery. The visits to her site were frequent: from parents, extended family and friends. Then, slowly, as the days passed he saw them return less and less. They all died as well, slipping into graves of their own. He returned, and he remembered long after everyone else had forgotten.
I want a second FC but I don’t know who to pick. Like a want a more feminine looking male for the second FC but—Idk. Suggestions anyone???
5/5 drafts completed. So I got everyone I owed, unless there is someone else I’m missing. Please do tell.
0/10 starters completed. Apologies, I’m busy and these probably won’t come up till either this weekend or even after my classes are over because I have a lot of things coming up soon.
He shushed Max, then smiled sheepishly before he nodded. It was better than nothing, even if Vivian’s wasn’t the one he was aiming for. He lifted the Corgi up and tucked him under an arm, then gave the man another nod, “Thank you.”
"You’re very welcome." Time paused. "I could walk with you over there, make certain I didn’t give the wrong directions." The man smiled. "I’d feel terrible if I remembered that it wasn’t quite what I told you."
•∰ Oh, how he was tempted to tell Time off for rolling his eyes. A pet peeve of Death’s ever since the action became doable, for it was a sign of utmost disrespect and rude annoyance, both of which he simply did not sit well with. However, Time would have a single free pass, seeing that he was next to as old as Death was, and deserved approximately the same amount of respect. But only one.
His attention turned to the slash of light that appeared, eyes scanning it thoroughly before returning to the visage of the other. He could have simply gone there himself, but would not deny an effort.
❝As do I.❞
"Why does everything you say almost sound like a threat?" Time asked, slipping through the tear as he did so and into the interior of the pizzeria. No one noticed, of course. Of course he knew that Death could get to the restaurant without a problem, but it seemed rude not to lead the way. After all, he was the one who had offered.
"I guess you have to live up to your reputation of being dark and scary." A teasing comment that was offered up with a faint smile. It quickly vanished. "Though…maybe there isn’t anything to be pleased with." He gave a faint shrug, mood particularly dampened by the thought. Time smiled again anyway, glancing over the array of pies presented at the front counter. "The plain is good but so’s everything else, really." He asked for a regular slice. "And the slices are huge."
"Did you say… Time?” The mercenary’s interest was immediately piqued. “And you say — if you are who you say you are — that time is runnin’ away from me?” Was that because he could not die? Wade wondered.
"Of course I’m Time. Why would I lie about that?" The entity questioned, frowning. It seemed absurd for him to be lying. He never hid himself. Only on rare occasions did he decide to take on human names, but those were few and far between. "But yes. The threads. They do this really odd thing where they diverge around your person. They don’t go through. I’ve seen it before but not quite like this." The brunet paused. "There isn’t anyone else who says they are ‘time’, is there?"
"You’re by the door to my office," she said slowly, cocking her head to the side. "On board the Helicarrier. Specifically, near the junction of the superhuman and field operatives divisions." Mia scanned the man with intrigued blue eyes. He seemed to be genuine, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. It had been a long day, she reflected. Maybe he was just tired.
"Is that so?" Time blinked, brow arching on his forehead. "No, I’m definitely not supposed to be here on this…vehicle? Vessel?…" For several seconds he deliberated on the right word. "Oh, well. I’m sorry to have interrupted your work. I’m certain you’re busy… I’ll let myself…out of here." No, not a good idea to be on a ship where they had ‘operatives’. He never did get along well with government things. They always had a habit of assuming he was some kind of superhuman, and considering this place seemed to have superhumans, it was best to disappear.