Will Graham (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eideteker_graham) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sirenspull_logs2012-02-10 12:29 am
eideteker_graham) wrote in sirenspull_logs2012-02-10 12:29 am
Entry tags:
Please don't be a fair-weather woman
Who: Himawari Kunogi & Will Graham
When: 2/10 around 2pm
Where: Himawari's motel room
Summary: Will drops in on Hima to check up on her since the towers explosion.
Warnings: None
The skies are always cloudy with a chance of rain for me...
Fair-weather friends were the sorts of people Will Graham couldn't stand. The sort of people who will only visit or call when the seas are calm and there isn't a sign of turbulence for miles. His intuition had allowed him to cut those sorts of people out of his life. Because if they couldn't handle him on his bad days, they weren't worth his good days.
Graham had a lot of bad days. One of the worst was behind him, though. Somewhere lost amongst the rubble of Tower number 2, along with Himawari's blood and all the memories she was forced to leave behind.
He looked up at a dingy motel where she was staying, hands shoved in the pockets of his black leather jacket. Who could have a good day in a crap-hole like this? Only her, he thought, a barely noticeable simper on his scarred lip. Only she could put up a front so bright and radiant, it blocked out all the grime and dilapidation that surrounded them in this cesspool of a city.
Himawari Kunogi was a fair-weather friend for nobody. He knew that for sure when he had clutched her close beneath the plums of smoke, watched her give a beautiful smile even through the pain of her injuries, told him sweet lies that it didn't hurt, and concealed her tears when he told her he knew it did. He had held her hand tight through the last minute stitches, and kissed her forehead when she had braved that searing agony like none other he had seen before.
No matter her luck, she was a soldier of fortune to him. What a shame she would be thanked, for her duty to the people who lived and died in that calamity, with some seedy motel like this.
A knock came to her door, certain her dog would answer it before her. He was ready with a piece of jerky to distract him with so he could rightly see how little Miss Fortune was doing.
When: 2/10 around 2pm
Where: Himawari's motel room
Summary: Will drops in on Hima to check up on her since the towers explosion.
Warnings: None
The skies are always cloudy with a chance of rain for me...
Fair-weather friends were the sorts of people Will Graham couldn't stand. The sort of people who will only visit or call when the seas are calm and there isn't a sign of turbulence for miles. His intuition had allowed him to cut those sorts of people out of his life. Because if they couldn't handle him on his bad days, they weren't worth his good days.
Graham had a lot of bad days. One of the worst was behind him, though. Somewhere lost amongst the rubble of Tower number 2, along with Himawari's blood and all the memories she was forced to leave behind.
He looked up at a dingy motel where she was staying, hands shoved in the pockets of his black leather jacket. Who could have a good day in a crap-hole like this? Only her, he thought, a barely noticeable simper on his scarred lip. Only she could put up a front so bright and radiant, it blocked out all the grime and dilapidation that surrounded them in this cesspool of a city.
Himawari Kunogi was a fair-weather friend for nobody. He knew that for sure when he had clutched her close beneath the plums of smoke, watched her give a beautiful smile even through the pain of her injuries, told him sweet lies that it didn't hurt, and concealed her tears when he told her he knew it did. He had held her hand tight through the last minute stitches, and kissed her forehead when she had braved that searing agony like none other he had seen before.
No matter her luck, she was a soldier of fortune to him. What a shame she would be thanked, for her duty to the people who lived and died in that calamity, with some seedy motel like this.
A knock came to her door, certain her dog would answer it before her. He was ready with a piece of jerky to distract him with so he could rightly see how little Miss Fortune was doing.