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Aug. 28th, 2006 02:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
princeinexileThere was something wrong with these people. On a fundamental level, somehow, they were broken. What had their worlds done to them, that they had to dissect a killer, give explantions for everything? What had happened to the simple explanaion of she is sick, and cannot get better?
These were Zuko's thoughts, as the left the meeting. He wanted to run so badly, but even the relatively swift steps he took made muscles and bone grind, brought wetness to his eyes (it was pain of the flesh that stung him with tears, nothing else) and he wanted to run, run so badly--
--till he was exhausted, till his lungs were on fire, till he was far outside the wall somewhere where no one could find him.
He walked right out of the building-- walked, walked, walked-- faster, faster--till he was out, beyond the wall. The pace picked up -- swifter, swifter-- till he was running--
--for all of three steps, before there was something-- something ripped, tore, he wasn't sure, but the asphalt rushed up to meet him and he dropped like a damn corpse.
Face wet, he pushed himself up, and tried again.
And dropped.
Again.
Another fall.
This time, he stayed down. There was no point in getting up anymore. Rolling on to his back among the broken buildings and empty landscape, he stared at the sky with damp eyes and wondered how it had gotten so wrong.
These were Zuko's thoughts, as the left the meeting. He wanted to run so badly, but even the relatively swift steps he took made muscles and bone grind, brought wetness to his eyes (it was pain of the flesh that stung him with tears, nothing else) and he wanted to run, run so badly--
--till he was exhausted, till his lungs were on fire, till he was far outside the wall somewhere where no one could find him.
He walked right out of the building-- walked, walked, walked-- faster, faster--till he was out, beyond the wall. The pace picked up -- swifter, swifter-- till he was running--
--for all of three steps, before there was something-- something ripped, tore, he wasn't sure, but the asphalt rushed up to meet him and he dropped like a damn corpse.
Face wet, he pushed himself up, and tried again.
And dropped.
Again.
Another fall.
This time, he stayed down. There was no point in getting up anymore. Rolling on to his back among the broken buildings and empty landscape, he stared at the sky with damp eyes and wondered how it had gotten so wrong.
