The finger reaching out to press the elevator's emergency button was long and slightly misshapen, almost alien, Kira noted, with a slight internal sigh. The hand the finger was attached to wore no rings, and, like the finger, was long. A guitarist's hand, she thought wryly. The young man the hand belonged to turned to Kira for the first time since she'd entered the elevator just minutes before. "Fuck," he said, with a note of hatred in his voice. She knew without saying that the hatred was directed at her. "Just FUCK."
"Look, Elliot, it's not like I fucking caused this." She could imagine her eyes blazing blue fire out of their watery depths at him, burning him up. "Don't fucking talk to me like that."
"Like what?" Elliot asked, obviously feigning innocence. He raked a strand of dark brown hair out of his left eye and glowered at her.
"Just..." she trailed off, guiltily. This whole operation should have gone off smoothly. Go down elevator, let ex-boyfriend into apartment building, go up elevator, give ex-boyfriend back things that belonged to him, get back things that belonged to her, repeat steps one through three in reverse. "Fuck it. It's no fucking use arguing with you."
Kira slouched against the wall of the small space. The faux wood finish was cold against the skin of her back exposed above the line of her black tank top. The ceiling was waterstained in places, and the flurescent light along the wall on the right side, across from her, flickered on slightly irregular intervals, sending ghostly shadows across Elliot's shoulders where he sat, half-leaning on a shaky hand rail on the far opposite side of the car.
so yeah, this is the beginning of a novelette that i'm working on. basically, it's going to be a microcosm of a relationship gone wrong. Comments are welcomed, though i know there's not much to comment on yet.
