91--Birthday (Fanfic100)
May. 6th, 2006 11:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreamcatchingsTitle: Good Die Young
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing, etc: Paige `Husk' Guthrie/Jono `Chamber' Starsmore
Prompt: Birthday (Prompt 91)
Word Count: 297
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Set sometime during the whole "stuck in the middle of the ocean" storyline. Second person pov because, well, sometimes things come out of my head like that.
You don't live the kinda life that lets you take time out to plan a birthday party. Or even buy a cake. Or call your momma and let her know you're still breathing because she worries. She's got reason to worry `cause you don't live the kinda life that even really promises to get you to your next birthday much less the one after that. And it's hard to remember, "Gee, I turn seventeen soon" when you're stranded on a chunk of land floating away in the middle of nowhere.
It's hard to remember that you're gonna be another year older when there's no drinkable water and no shade and no help in sight. And the boy you maybe, sorta, kinda really like is acting like you're gonna break apart, like you can't stand up for yourself, can't take care of yourself. Even though that's what you've been working to prove this entire time. Since before you could really even remember what it was like to not have to prove that.
And since you just tossed his jacket at him and told him to stop patronizing you less than twenty-four hours ago, you're surprised when he taps your hand and whispers, *Happy Birthday, sunshine* into your head like he's been waiting for the chance to do that all day.
Which makes you just look at him for a moment and do the math because you'd forgotten it was right around the corner yourself.
"Yeah," you say, not looking at him because how are you supposed to even try and stay mad at him now. "Thanks."
So you're not gonna die at sixteen, after all.
It'll be seventeen.
Fandom: X-Men
Pairing, etc: Paige `Husk' Guthrie/Jono `Chamber' Starsmore
Prompt: Birthday (Prompt 91)
Word Count: 297
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Set sometime during the whole "stuck in the middle of the ocean" storyline. Second person pov because, well, sometimes things come out of my head like that.
You don't live the kinda life that lets you take time out to plan a birthday party. Or even buy a cake. Or call your momma and let her know you're still breathing because she worries. She's got reason to worry `cause you don't live the kinda life that even really promises to get you to your next birthday much less the one after that. And it's hard to remember, "Gee, I turn seventeen soon" when you're stranded on a chunk of land floating away in the middle of nowhere.
It's hard to remember that you're gonna be another year older when there's no drinkable water and no shade and no help in sight. And the boy you maybe, sorta, kinda really like is acting like you're gonna break apart, like you can't stand up for yourself, can't take care of yourself. Even though that's what you've been working to prove this entire time. Since before you could really even remember what it was like to not have to prove that.
And since you just tossed his jacket at him and told him to stop patronizing you less than twenty-four hours ago, you're surprised when he taps your hand and whispers, *Happy Birthday, sunshine* into your head like he's been waiting for the chance to do that all day.
Which makes you just look at him for a moment and do the math because you'd forgotten it was right around the corner yourself.
"Yeah," you say, not looking at him because how are you supposed to even try and stay mad at him now. "Thanks."
So you're not gonna die at sixteen, after all.
It'll be seventeen.
