Shannon (kissedblister) wrote in oc_slash,
Shannon
kissedblister
oc_slash

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...i have no luck with girls...

first post, whee. new to lj, but not journals or slash or the oc. uhm, here's a little drabble for y'all. kind of ryan/seth/luke. rated pg or r or something? enjoy.

inside the emergency waiting room, it smells like death, like ammonia, this squeaky clean lemon pine that can't even cover the remenants of somebody's old piss. the phospherescents are too bright and the tile's too spotless, the chair's are too small, red cushioned things, because it's newport and even the hospitals are posh. inside the emergency waiting room, there's you and ryan, knees together and arms brushing, waiting for a doctor or a nurse or somebody to come out and tell you luke is all right. you and ryan, and you can't tell if his stomach is tied into twisted knots like yours, you can't tell if he's grinding his teeth or chewing on his tongue. letting his thoughts race with images of that gun going off over and over and over again. like yours.

just between you and him, you're scared. terrified out of your mind, and you're biting your nails, but all you can see is that bullet entering luke's arm, that blood on his fingertips. all you can see is luke falling, crying out, that blood, the carpet, donnie and the gun shaking in his hand, because, oh, he didn't mean to make it go off, he was just playing, just trying to scare abercrombie and fitch, right, but it's your bated breath in your lungs, the heat of ryan's fingertips still throbbing under your skin. just between you and him, you were thinking of ryan when luke got shot.

just between you and him, you were thinking of ryan's mouth on yours.

inside the emergency waiting room, and you see luke's blood all over the place, pristine walls, but it's red behind your eyelids. that ammonia smell, that smell of death, that smell of luke's death, but you can't stop tapping your leg. biting your nails. grinding your teeth. and ryan's sitting there set in stone, back to the wall and muscles tightened. like he's on the defensive, ready to bail if things get too rough. but, ryan's always on the defensive.

looking to you, and you can see the fright in his eyes, that scared little boy complex, those pouty lips, those soulful eyes, that blood all over his hands. turning to you, his stone seems to chip away.

just between you and him, ryan slips his hand into yours for comfort. for you or for him, you're not sure. but.

just between you and him, all you can see is luke's blood.

shannon
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