Six Sentence Sunday! Is a Thing! That I am apparently doing!
I made a header graphic and everything, so I guess I'm committed now. (Well, that and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe tagged me on Wednesday and it made me happy, so...)
I’ve been playing around with a few fanfic ideas since sometime in June, but an idea I had last week has really kept my interest. (I even have notes, and planned scenes, which is shocking for a pantser like me.)
It will regrettably be slow going, due to my unreliable vision (you can read about that here if you’re interested). TLDR: I haven’t been able to really write in the last three years due to a head injury, and I am beyond rusty. But I have to get back to writing, because I’m a writer.
Premise: “What if Baz had succeeded in capturing Simon’s voice in fifth year?” (No idea if this has been done before, but I’m going to run with it…)
Here’s a bit of Baz’s inner dialog as he considers his dastardly deeds. Not six sentences exactly, but I don't think anyone's truly counting.
I made promises to myself. That I’d stop expecting to see him when I entered our (my) room. I’d become accustomed to never seeing him, or hearing his voice, or watching him toss and turn at night, wishing… No, I was never brave enough to truly make that wish, was I. I promised myself the fulfillment of other wishes - all the wishes he so easily thwarted, simply by existing. In fifth year, all I could admit to myself was that Simon Snow was making me miserable. The reality I’d refused to accept then was simple: he’d become everything to me. And I’d despised him for it.
(Tags under the cut)