steahl: (My Pet)
[personal profile] steahl
Who: The Nix
What: The Nix muses and researches.
Where: Schutzhafen Universe, on campus.

She looked at the phone in her hand, storm water eyes taking in the curve of the heavy plastic as it arched upward from her fingers. Such a delicate, tenuous connection to be housed in something so heavy and solid. "Hello Simon," she spoke, easy and smiling as she did every night.

And every day.

Every moment he thought to call her.

She liked to think he called her often; when he needed to talk. When he was lonely. When he just needed a voice through the walls.

Ah, but perhaps it was her imagination. The soothing, normal flow of her love's voice rolled forth, dwelling on mundane things. The students, the children, mathematics, and plans to arrange a test. Common things that she loved to hear each day. "That boy should be transferred," she noted in a gentle, crackling lull. "I do not like him in your classes, he makes you angry." And anger was not something they wanted in Simon's life.

Students could be stressful but often his love for physics, for math, outweighed the risk of teenagers being problematic. Sometimes, just sometimes though, he needed someone else to point out growing problems. "And he has not returned his books." A further mark against him! "He..." was not a hero. The boy was not even kind. She wasn't sure what path the boy was heading down but it wasn't one she could watch.

"No," she laughed softly, "I do not need you to remind him. The books will come back. Thank you though, Simon. You take great care for my tales." He always did, and that warmed her heart. She had to sit far from him when they shared a room in conferences, and she had to speak through a phone, but he worried for the items in her care and that gave her hope.

She caught the soft burr in his voice as the sun slipped below the horizon; even when he was indoors and glancing over papers a part of him felt when the great star above them hid itself. She'd been talking to him for years and yet she still winced when she heard it. As ever all she could offer was distraction. "I have a new book," she offered after that quiet waver. "It is a tale you may like. May I read to you?" She liked reading to him. Stories, tales, flights of fancy. In a world such as theirs such simple escapes could mean a great deal.

The library grew quiet and dim around her as she read, chapters flowing by until her voice was a mere whisper in the murk. What did the wee hours mean to them? Early mornings? Sleep was a creature they entertained in thought more than deed...and as ever when he called an ending to their conference she marked her page and looked over her frightful, exposed shelves. Her items, on display and looming in the open, and all...

...all for a good cause. She, in her turn, set the phone receiver in it's cradle and stood, a shadow among the stacks, and walked to the deeper, twistier ways. She had more than one new book, and she ever hoped that one, or another, perhaps even this last in the stack might give her some hope. Some answer. Some way to help.

She lived on hope some days. And the rest of the days...she lived on phone calls.

It was not a bad life, all told.
From:
Anonymous( )Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.
OpenID( )OpenID You can comment on this post while signed in with an account from many other sites, once you have confirmed your email address. Sign in using OpenID.
User
Account name:
Password:
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
Subject:
HTML doesn't work in the subject.

Message:

 
Notice: This account is set to log the IP addresses of everyone who comments.
Links will be displayed as unclickable URLs to help prevent spam.

Profile

steahl: (Default)
steahl

March 2017

S M T W T F S
   1234
56789 1011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 21st, 2017 09:04 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios