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so niece told me to write senel/walter
The prompt was "holding hands." I also made no guarantee about characterization or artistic license. :')
--
They were on a couch.
It was a red, tacky couch that wasn't soft at all, not soft like Senel was sure the blonde's soft skin was. They both leaned on the armrests, one hand against their cheeks, looking the other way. They kept glancing at each other, kept catching each others' gazes -- of course they were blushing, so they quickly looked away.
That wasn't the worst thing, though. What was even worse than the fact that they were on a couch, not somewhere more comfortable, more secluded, more suited for eye contact and whispers in the dark (Senel crosses his legs), worse than the fact that they were less than a foot away on said couch, hands limply against the cushions when they would much rather be groping something more, is that one word, that one word Walter keeps saying, and it's enough to make the color of the couch bleed over into everything else in the room.
"Merines..."
Senel narrows his eyes, clicking his tongue, annoyed. That one word. Couldn't he say anything else? And if he had to say a name, couldn't it be the name of something that mattered? Like the person sitting right next to--
Walter whimpers, and Senel's head suddenly snaps in his direction, but Walter has already met him with an even glare.
"Senel Coolidge."
Senel matches it, glaring, but they both know that a blush threatens to flood their faces and close that distance between them in the blink of an eye. It's not like it was something new, it happened all the time. But each and every time they had been given hell by--
"Dinner's ready."
The annoyingly high-pitched clangorously rang throughout the room like a mac truck running through a wall of glass. The scraggly straw-colored hair came into view, along with her sour face and hands clutching two trays for her masters. She wore rags, because she was a maid, but it was only out of pity that the two boys had taken her in, though they had soon come to regret it. Not a moment went by without her bitter gaze tormenting the two, though all they wanted to do was be together. It was her fault they were sitting on a couch, hands just barely touching, waiting for her undercooked dinner.
Senel seriously considers having her go out for an errand and eloping with Walter before she can return.
Shirley sets the tray before them on the living room table, standing at the side, tray down, supposedly like a good maid should. Walter once again mutters "Merines..." with a reflective look in his eyes, and Senel scoffs, jealously grabbing the cheap pot pie Shirley microwaved and scarfed it down, wanting to get it over with.
But suddenly, he feels a burning in his throat and doubles over, coughing in pain. Walter instantly reacts, accidentally kicking over the table as he jumps up and rushes to Senel's side. "Senel Coolidge!?"
Senel can faintly hear Shirley cackling in the background. She tosses down her tray harshly and grinds it, her hair flaring up like Medusa. Walter instantly turns his attention to her, cradling the fragile Senel in his arms, who is clinging to Walter's shirt while still coughing in pain. "Merines!?" He spits out with uncontainable rage.
"Ha! That's right! It was finally about time!" She screeches wickedly, wiping a tear from her eye. "Why do you think I put up with being under-appreciated for so long?! Why!? Just for this!" She points at the weakened Senel cruelly. Walter grits his teeth, reaching to his belt.
Shirley continues her tirade, oblivious. "Yes! All along, I've loved you, Walter! But that devil kept you under his spell! And despite my warnings, you let yourself be strung along his ploys! But no longer!" She had another good laugh to herself, blushing so much she her face looked like a red demon's.
But that was only for a moment. Soon, it wasn't only her face that was red, but her clothes, too, for Walter had run her cleanly through, her blood and guts splattering everywhere. As she collapsed to the ground, Walter pulled out his sword, glaring disdainfully down at her and clutching the feverish Senel to his broad chest. "Merines...!!" He repeated once more, his voice full of hatred. It was only then that Shirley knew the weight of her sins and died.
Walter dropped down to his knees, gripping Senel's hand fiercely. His face was full of worry, and his eyes, of tears. "Senel Coolidge...!!"
"I'll... be... all right..." He panted out. "I shouldn't have... trusted her..."
"Senel Coolidge...! Walter cries, the agony of his soul pouring from his words. But Senel only smiled.
"... I'm glad... I... was jealous... that you kept saying--" He coughed up a lot of blood, and Walter yelped in worry. "... Her name." Walter shook his head freverently, muttering Senel's name over and over again, trying to prevent the impossible, but he knew it was no use.
Senel nods, continuing. "I should've known... all that time... you were thinking of... how to kill her... right?" Walter nods passionately again, his face stained with tears.
A long pause, where Walter thought he would never hear his beloved speak again, but, at last, the words poured forth. "Walter... I love you."
Walter grips Senel's hand tighter than he ever held it before, and cries again, "Senel Coolidge...!!" He then dove forward, kissing Senel with the utmost passion, as if he, too were about to die.
As they exchanged their feelings of love without words, Senel slowly began to unbuckle Walter's pants, and Walter Senel's shirt, for this would be the last time they ever saw each other in this world, and they had to make every moment as expressive of their love as possible. And they expressed it as they never had before, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
But when Walter was left with nothing but Senel's cold corpse with his eyes closed, face an expression of ecstasy, there was truly nothing left for him. He cried once more, "Senel Coolidge..." with a hint of joy in his voice, for he would be seeing him very soon, and bit his tongue, drowning in his own blood as he lay down next to Senel, hand-in-hand.
--
They were on a couch.
It was a red, tacky couch that wasn't soft at all, not soft like Senel was sure the blonde's soft skin was. They both leaned on the armrests, one hand against their cheeks, looking the other way. They kept glancing at each other, kept catching each others' gazes -- of course they were blushing, so they quickly looked away.
That wasn't the worst thing, though. What was even worse than the fact that they were on a couch, not somewhere more comfortable, more secluded, more suited for eye contact and whispers in the dark (Senel crosses his legs), worse than the fact that they were less than a foot away on said couch, hands limply against the cushions when they would much rather be groping something more, is that one word, that one word Walter keeps saying, and it's enough to make the color of the couch bleed over into everything else in the room.
"Merines..."
Senel narrows his eyes, clicking his tongue, annoyed. That one word. Couldn't he say anything else? And if he had to say a name, couldn't it be the name of something that mattered? Like the person sitting right next to--
Walter whimpers, and Senel's head suddenly snaps in his direction, but Walter has already met him with an even glare.
"Senel Coolidge."
Senel matches it, glaring, but they both know that a blush threatens to flood their faces and close that distance between them in the blink of an eye. It's not like it was something new, it happened all the time. But each and every time they had been given hell by--
"Dinner's ready."
The annoyingly high-pitched clangorously rang throughout the room like a mac truck running through a wall of glass. The scraggly straw-colored hair came into view, along with her sour face and hands clutching two trays for her masters. She wore rags, because she was a maid, but it was only out of pity that the two boys had taken her in, though they had soon come to regret it. Not a moment went by without her bitter gaze tormenting the two, though all they wanted to do was be together. It was her fault they were sitting on a couch, hands just barely touching, waiting for her undercooked dinner.
Senel seriously considers having her go out for an errand and eloping with Walter before she can return.
Shirley sets the tray before them on the living room table, standing at the side, tray down, supposedly like a good maid should. Walter once again mutters "Merines..." with a reflective look in his eyes, and Senel scoffs, jealously grabbing the cheap pot pie Shirley microwaved and scarfed it down, wanting to get it over with.
But suddenly, he feels a burning in his throat and doubles over, coughing in pain. Walter instantly reacts, accidentally kicking over the table as he jumps up and rushes to Senel's side. "Senel Coolidge!?"
Senel can faintly hear Shirley cackling in the background. She tosses down her tray harshly and grinds it, her hair flaring up like Medusa. Walter instantly turns his attention to her, cradling the fragile Senel in his arms, who is clinging to Walter's shirt while still coughing in pain. "Merines!?" He spits out with uncontainable rage.
"Ha! That's right! It was finally about time!" She screeches wickedly, wiping a tear from her eye. "Why do you think I put up with being under-appreciated for so long?! Why!? Just for this!" She points at the weakened Senel cruelly. Walter grits his teeth, reaching to his belt.
Shirley continues her tirade, oblivious. "Yes! All along, I've loved you, Walter! But that devil kept you under his spell! And despite my warnings, you let yourself be strung along his ploys! But no longer!" She had another good laugh to herself, blushing so much she her face looked like a red demon's.
But that was only for a moment. Soon, it wasn't only her face that was red, but her clothes, too, for Walter had run her cleanly through, her blood and guts splattering everywhere. As she collapsed to the ground, Walter pulled out his sword, glaring disdainfully down at her and clutching the feverish Senel to his broad chest. "Merines...!!" He repeated once more, his voice full of hatred. It was only then that Shirley knew the weight of her sins and died.
Walter dropped down to his knees, gripping Senel's hand fiercely. His face was full of worry, and his eyes, of tears. "Senel Coolidge...!!"
"I'll... be... all right..." He panted out. "I shouldn't have... trusted her..."
"Senel Coolidge...! Walter cries, the agony of his soul pouring from his words. But Senel only smiled.
"... I'm glad... I... was jealous... that you kept saying--" He coughed up a lot of blood, and Walter yelped in worry. "... Her name." Walter shook his head freverently, muttering Senel's name over and over again, trying to prevent the impossible, but he knew it was no use.
Senel nods, continuing. "I should've known... all that time... you were thinking of... how to kill her... right?" Walter nods passionately again, his face stained with tears.
A long pause, where Walter thought he would never hear his beloved speak again, but, at last, the words poured forth. "Walter... I love you."
Walter grips Senel's hand tighter than he ever held it before, and cries again, "Senel Coolidge...!!" He then dove forward, kissing Senel with the utmost passion, as if he, too were about to die.
As they exchanged their feelings of love without words, Senel slowly began to unbuckle Walter's pants, and Walter Senel's shirt, for this would be the last time they ever saw each other in this world, and they had to make every moment as expressive of their love as possible. And they expressed it as they never had before, as if nothing else in the world mattered.
But when Walter was left with nothing but Senel's cold corpse with his eyes closed, face an expression of ecstasy, there was truly nothing left for him. He cried once more, "Senel Coolidge..." with a hint of joy in his voice, for he would be seeing him very soon, and bit his tongue, drowning in his own blood as he lay down next to Senel, hand-in-hand.