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[ECM] OCTOBER - Bob Hope Quote
Oct. 9th, 2007 02:00 pmAll I can say about life is, oh God, enjoy it! - Bob Hope
Something was still wrong...he just couldn’t put his finger on what.
Peter tried to push off the feeling, but it surged to the surface in full force as he took a deep swallow of the beer Caitlin had set in front of him a moment before. The mild, refreshing sting of carbonation washed over his tongue, as did the thick bite of alcohol. He could smell the hops, see the cheerful glitter of the golden liquid in the glass, reflecting the low light of the pub as he set it back down on the bar.
Frowning, Peter lost himself in his own thoughts as he looked up and around the mildly busy pub, wondering where this came from. There were moments, if he tried very hard, where he felt the weight of his own memory loss...the helplessness and loneliness of having nothing to connect to, nothing to define himself but a box of bits and pieces that frightened him with their possibility.
And when he wasn’t trying...these moments snuck up on him. When all at once, the world sprang to life in a way that had nothing to do with these unusual abilities he’d been displaying. He wasn’t hearing something from a mile away when a drinking song in the corner of the room caught his attention and came alive in his ears, jubilant and sweet. He wasn’t smelling anything but Caitlin’s perfume when it filled his lungs and made his gut clench with lust and his heart contract with something other than love...a desire to love. A need to care, to connect...and somewhere in the depths of it all, a strange sort of grief...regret.
The cold beer sliding down his throat was rich with flavors, textures, and smells that called to things he knew he ought to remember. It spoke of warm, lazy summer barbeques, nights of camaraderie and conversation at a bar like this one with friends who had no faces...
Skies were bluer. Each breath was sweeter. He had a place here now...a niche that just might become home in enough time. It was a place to mull over his options, maybe prepare himself for the truth of who and what he really was...
But this felt like a piece of something he shouldn’t have forgotten. Every day he woke up and felt this way...when bits of the world sang out to him and made his soul ache with relief and joy, it felt like something he’d come close to losing.
Every day in the world felt like a victory...and it felt wrong to Peter that he didn’t remember why.
Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: Heroes
Words: 442
Something was still wrong...he just couldn’t put his finger on what.
Peter tried to push off the feeling, but it surged to the surface in full force as he took a deep swallow of the beer Caitlin had set in front of him a moment before. The mild, refreshing sting of carbonation washed over his tongue, as did the thick bite of alcohol. He could smell the hops, see the cheerful glitter of the golden liquid in the glass, reflecting the low light of the pub as he set it back down on the bar.
Frowning, Peter lost himself in his own thoughts as he looked up and around the mildly busy pub, wondering where this came from. There were moments, if he tried very hard, where he felt the weight of his own memory loss...the helplessness and loneliness of having nothing to connect to, nothing to define himself but a box of bits and pieces that frightened him with their possibility.
And when he wasn’t trying...these moments snuck up on him. When all at once, the world sprang to life in a way that had nothing to do with these unusual abilities he’d been displaying. He wasn’t hearing something from a mile away when a drinking song in the corner of the room caught his attention and came alive in his ears, jubilant and sweet. He wasn’t smelling anything but Caitlin’s perfume when it filled his lungs and made his gut clench with lust and his heart contract with something other than love...a desire to love. A need to care, to connect...and somewhere in the depths of it all, a strange sort of grief...regret.
The cold beer sliding down his throat was rich with flavors, textures, and smells that called to things he knew he ought to remember. It spoke of warm, lazy summer barbeques, nights of camaraderie and conversation at a bar like this one with friends who had no faces...
Skies were bluer. Each breath was sweeter. He had a place here now...a niche that just might become home in enough time. It was a place to mull over his options, maybe prepare himself for the truth of who and what he really was...
But this felt like a piece of something he shouldn’t have forgotten. Every day he woke up and felt this way...when bits of the world sang out to him and made his soul ache with relief and joy, it felt like something he’d come close to losing.
Every day in the world felt like a victory...and it felt wrong to Peter that he didn’t remember why.
Muse: Peter Petrelli
Fandom: Heroes
Words: 442
