RENT: Something of Ours
May. 31st, 2007 04:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
find_rightbrainTitle: Something of Ours
Characters/Pairing: April/Maureen
Word Count: 175
Rating: G
Summary: On the anniversary of April's death, Maureen goes back to their spot.
Notes: Written as a drabble request for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bohofemm.
Disclaimer: I don't own Rent or any of the characters. Never did, never will.
"Hey, beautiful," Maureen whispers into the air, watching tendrils of her breath mist in the air in front of her. There's no one in this corner of the park, this early in the morning, and as cold as it is - Maureen's bundled into a jacket and a coat, a scarf and hat that hide most of her features, and under any other circumstances, she would not be out this early, in this weather. But today, on the anniversary of April's death, she couldn't be anywhere else.
She's half certain that maybe April's here too, so she doesn't feel at all silly talking to thin air.
She sinks carefully onto a bench, drawing a slow breath that stings her throat. She and April used to sit here almost every day, talking about everything and nothing, and God, she misses those talks. She misses everything about April. She places her hand flat on the chilly stone of the bench, and half imagines she can feel April's warm fingers winding through hers. "I just... came by to say... hi."
Characters/Pairing: April/Maureen
Word Count: 175
Rating: G
Summary: On the anniversary of April's death, Maureen goes back to their spot.
Notes: Written as a drabble request for
bohofemm.Disclaimer: I don't own Rent or any of the characters. Never did, never will.
"Hey, beautiful," Maureen whispers into the air, watching tendrils of her breath mist in the air in front of her. There's no one in this corner of the park, this early in the morning, and as cold as it is - Maureen's bundled into a jacket and a coat, a scarf and hat that hide most of her features, and under any other circumstances, she would not be out this early, in this weather. But today, on the anniversary of April's death, she couldn't be anywhere else.
She's half certain that maybe April's here too, so she doesn't feel at all silly talking to thin air.
She sinks carefully onto a bench, drawing a slow breath that stings her throat. She and April used to sit here almost every day, talking about everything and nothing, and God, she misses those talks. She misses everything about April. She places her hand flat on the chilly stone of the bench, and half imagines she can feel April's warm fingers winding through hers. "I just... came by to say... hi."