Samurai Flamenco - call me [MMM]
Sep. 8th, 2014 10:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scriveynerTitle: call me
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Mari/Moe/Mizuki
Rating: T
Length: 299
Summary: She’d been gone for days - it had edged into a week, somewhere, but Moe had stopped keeping track.
She’d been gone for days - it had edged into a week, somewhere, but Moe had stopped keeping track. She sat silently in the meeting room as Mizuki ranted on - it was really funny how alike they were, sometimes, Mizuki couldn’t stop thinking about Mari, but she knew it wasn’t the same, not really - and she stared quietly at the blank table top. Where there would be notes and loose leaf scribbles, music and lyrics and ideas there was nothing but plain table space. The last pile of brainstorming had been cleaned up, the notes neatly tucked away and the room restored.
Mari hadn’t been back to her apartment in days, the doorman had said - Mizuki had pounded on the door and yelled through it but there was no response. Moe tugged on her arm and tried to calm her down, there was no point to yelling here, the neighbors could hear - but Mizuki savagely said “Fuck them,” and stormed off toward the elevator.
Where had she gone?
Her hands trembled, beneath the table. She’d had her cell phone open for an hour, her fingers on the keys - Mizuki’s texts and calls had gone unanswered, Moe hadn’t plucked up the courage to try.
“I’m tired of this,” Mizuki said, sitting further down the table, her hand supporting her head, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “I’m tired of her bullshit, Moe - I just can’t-”
The words came easier somehow when they were typed and not said. Moe pressed the send button quickly, before she had a chance to change her mind.
Please come home.
Fandom: Samurai Flamenco
Characters/Pairing: Mari/Moe/Mizuki
Rating: T
Length: 299
Summary: She’d been gone for days - it had edged into a week, somewhere, but Moe had stopped keeping track.
She’d been gone for days - it had edged into a week, somewhere, but Moe had stopped keeping track. She sat silently in the meeting room as Mizuki ranted on - it was really funny how alike they were, sometimes, Mizuki couldn’t stop thinking about Mari, but she knew it wasn’t the same, not really - and she stared quietly at the blank table top. Where there would be notes and loose leaf scribbles, music and lyrics and ideas there was nothing but plain table space. The last pile of brainstorming had been cleaned up, the notes neatly tucked away and the room restored.
Mari hadn’t been back to her apartment in days, the doorman had said - Mizuki had pounded on the door and yelled through it but there was no response. Moe tugged on her arm and tried to calm her down, there was no point to yelling here, the neighbors could hear - but Mizuki savagely said “Fuck them,” and stormed off toward the elevator.
Where had she gone?
Her hands trembled, beneath the table. She’d had her cell phone open for an hour, her fingers on the keys - Mizuki’s texts and calls had gone unanswered, Moe hadn’t plucked up the courage to try.
“I’m tired of this,” Mizuki said, sitting further down the table, her hand supporting her head, shoulders slumped in exhaustion. “I’m tired of her bullshit, Moe - I just can’t-”
The words came easier somehow when they were typed and not said. Moe pressed the send button quickly, before she had a chance to change her mind.
Please come home.
