Steven G. Rogers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thekidfrombrooklyn) wrote2012-10-10 05:51 pm
thekidfrombrooklyn) wrote2012-10-10 05:51 pm
Entry tags:
OOM: outside
In the morning, Steve wakes feeling pretty good. He kisses Orpheus and puts on a tracksuit and sneakers, determined to go for a run, fog or no fog.
The mist hasn't let up but he forges ahead at a steady pace, the hood of his tracksuit up, hearing no sound but his own footsteps and breathing and the faint lapping of water against the lake shore.
And then there's a faint rustle in the trees. Movement that Steve sees out of the corner of his eye, but when he looks at it directly, it's just more trees and fog.
He slows, stops and lowers the hood. He's not breathing hard but his lungs suddenly feel tight and cold, as if he's been gasping for breath for hours.
"Who's there?" he whispers and then coughs past the restriction in his throat. He says more firmly, "Who's there?"
No one's there.
See you.
Right?
"Nobody here but us," Steve murmurs and resumes running, a little faster than before.
The mist hasn't let up but he forges ahead at a steady pace, the hood of his tracksuit up, hearing no sound but his own footsteps and breathing and the faint lapping of water against the lake shore.
And then there's a faint rustle in the trees. Movement that Steve sees out of the corner of his eye, but when he looks at it directly, it's just more trees and fog.
He slows, stops and lowers the hood. He's not breathing hard but his lungs suddenly feel tight and cold, as if he's been gasping for breath for hours.
"Who's there?" he whispers and then coughs past the restriction in his throat. He says more firmly, "Who's there?"
No one's there.
See you.
Right?
"Nobody here but us," Steve murmurs and resumes running, a little faster than before.