Hmm, this is from as of yet named magical realism waycest fic which may or may not ever be finished. But this is the start.
***
“Oh,” Mikey says when he walks into the kitchen. His mouth twitches like it wants to smile but he crosses his arms and stares at Gerard blankly instead. “You’re back.” Then he turns around and walks out, his shoulder blades tight, jutting sharply against his t-shirt like amputated wings.
Gerard’s fingers close uselessly on thin air and he wishes for a pen, a brush, a quill of finest, blackest feather, thinks about hollow bones and his brother’s spine like it’s a secret.
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2014-02-08 02:51 pm (UTC)***
“Oh,” Mikey says when he walks into the kitchen. His mouth twitches like it wants to smile but he crosses his arms and stares at Gerard blankly instead. “You’re back.” Then he turns around and walks out, his shoulder blades tight, jutting sharply against his t-shirt like amputated wings.
Gerard’s fingers close uselessly on thin air and he wishes for a pen, a brush, a quill of finest, blackest feather, thinks about hollow bones and his brother’s spine like it’s a secret.