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hackthis_archiveWords cannot begin to explain how hard the Two Lines Challenge: was for me to complete. I was *this* close to tossing in the towel, but since I actually signed *myself* up, I couldn’t punk out. Nuts.
Written for and dedicated to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
serialkarma, who then had the kindness to beta it. That's love, people.
Everwood
Life in a Box
Bright’s stretched out perpendicular to the direction of the mattress for no discernable reason apart from that’s where he collapsed when Ephram went off to get cookies and milk, which seem strangely wholesome considering the household in question. His head is dangling off one side and his feet the other, since he’s way too long for it this way.
There are comic books sticking out from underneath Ephram’s bed and solitary socks poking out of various half-open drawers. Plus, Ephram hasn’t made his bed in god only knows how long, so when Bright rolls over he gets slightly tangled in flannel sheets and shirts that were rejected that morning for whatever reason.
The material is warm against the bare skin not covered by the shorts he’s wearing, and he makes a point of keeping his sneakers off the bed. He’s just laying there, resting, not really doing anything constructive, or destructive, for that matter.
He slides off the edge slightly, and reaches down for a glossy cover to leaf through.
The comic book is cool between Bright’s fingers, and everything Ephram reads has a name Bright can’t pronounce. The pictures are nice, but they don’t really mean anything to Bright, so he tends to nod his head and let Ephram rattle on when he gets excited about whatever he’s reading.
Bright’s learned that seems to be key in being friends with Ephram.
Eventually, he lets the book slip away, and it lands with a thud on the floor. He scratches at the back of his neck absently and kicks a cardboard box behind him by accident.
For as long as Bright has known Ephram, he’s done nothing but talk about how amazing New York is and how he can’t wait to get out of Everwood and go back. Except considering he’s supposed to be leaving tomorrow to go back to ”civilization,” he sure hasn’t done a lot to get ready for it.
Bright he thought *he* was bad at packing, but he’s got nothing on Ephram.
There are still posters all over Ephram’s walls and CD’s cases littered on his desk. There are half-drunk glasses of water on Ephram’s nightstand and sneakers all over the place. Ephram’s room is a minefield of Ephram-ness.
It’s just how Bright likes it.
He doesn’t want things to change.
But tomorrow Ephram will be leaving for the Manhattan School of Music, and that will pretty much be it.
“Were you planning on hibernating in my bed, or is this just some new ritual where you’re marking territory?” Ephram’s voice makes Bright’s stomach jump, and he pushes himself up hastily, which only succeeds in further tangling him in Ephram's sheets.
He glares at Ephram, who's standing in the doorway holding two glasses of milk and a small box under one arm. "Whatever, man, like I would want to lay claim to your stinky sheets."
Bright flushes when he realizes that that's exactly what he'd like to do. How else to explain him rolling around on Ephram's *bed*?
"Stinky sheets, Bright? What are you, three?"
"Shut up," Bright says, accepting the proffered glass of milk. He quickly takes a large gulp to avoid further lameness on his part.
Ephram just smirks again and drops the package of Oreos on the bed.
“Your sparkling conversation and witty batter wound me,” he quips, taking a sip of milk before setting his glass on his desk.
Bright is entirely too old to pout, but it’s a really tough habit to control. He busies himself opening the package of Oreos and cramming one down his mouth as Ephram shifts boxes around and does a lot of nothing.
“Are you going to pack that stuff or are you just redecorating?” Bright asks around a mouthful of cookie.
“I have organizational skills that would make Martha Stewart jealous,” Ephram says, making a show of emptying an entire drawer full of socks into an empty box.
“So you’ll be joining her in jail soon?” Bright grins, barely dodging away in time when Ephram throws a ball of green socks at his head.
He stuffs another cookie in his mouth and chews as Ephram goes back to his half-assed version of packing. He empties drawer after drawer into the box until shirts are overflowing from the top. He then makes a great show of stuffing the shirts all the way in and closing the top, using an errant sneaker to keep it from flapping open again.
“At this rate I’ll be done by Christmas,” Ephram quips, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as though he’s just completed some sort of strenuous labor. “Time for a break.”
The bed quivers as he drops down next to Bright. He turns down the cookie Bright offers him though, and glances around his room dejectedly. “This is so never getting done.”
“I’ll help,” someone who sounds just like Bright says.
They’re both slightly shocked at this development, and Ephram nods as Bright stuffs another Oreo in his mouth.
“Cool,” he says by way of thanks, yet neither one moves. The realization that this is the last time they’re going to be together for a while hangs between them like a cheap curtain.
There are certain things Bright takes for granted: his mom’s pot roast and Delia’s crush on him. The way that Ephram snarks at him just before he lets him inside the Brown house. The fact that Bright is always welcome at Ephram’s house regardless of the time of day.
The fact that Ephram is always around when Bright needs him.
Ephram has always talked about leaving, and Bright has just accepted it as part of Ephram’s charm. As part of what makes him him. He’s never really thought about what it’ll be like when Ephram’s gone.
He doesn’t want Ephram to go.
He’s startled when Ephram pulls the glass of milk out of his hand and takes a long draught. Ephram’s neck is a long column of white that makes Bright’s throat feel dry.
“You know I’ve got cooties, right?” he says, laughing when Ephram sputters.
Ephram looks at him as though he’s crazy. He likes that. “If you’ve got’em, I’ve probably already got them, too.”
Bright nods solemnly. The silence between them is punctuated by Delia yelling something from below as the door slams behind her.
Ephram picks up the manga that Bright was reading earlier and tosses it towards the box of shirts and socks. “Look at all the packing I’m getting done.”
“Amazing,” Bright says.
“I know I am,” Ephram smirks.
“Whatever, freak.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“Yeah, but at least I stay away from the purple hair.”
“It’ll be blue at Thanksgiving.”
Bright’s quiet.
“I’m coming back,” Ephram says to no one in particular. “Or you could visit.”
Bright shifts on the bed, carefully extracting himself from Ephram’s sheets. He’s not sure what to say, so he chooses not to say anything. He’s learned that life works pretty good when he does that.
“I’ll miss you too, freak,” Ephram says eventually.
The alarm clock reads 3:48 p.m. and downstairs Bright can hear Dr Brown moving around in the living room. It’s a Sunday afternoon and the NFL preseason will be on starting next week.
When Bright leans over and kisses Ephram on the lips, he’s not sure if he’s saying goodbye or hello.
-the end-
Given lyrics:
the picture is far too big to look at, kid / your eyes won't open wide enough
-bright eyes, "the big picture"
Edited to note Mad Pimpage: [clears throat]queenofalostart also wrote Bright/Ephram for her Two-Lines Fic. I have decided that we are part of a cabal. lalejandra is also a member, she writes some good crack. And the only thing better is that marleigh made a place for all the good crack to be stored at the same time. Hit that pipe at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
everwoobie, people.
In O.C. news,serialkarma wrote this, which I am not just pimping because I betad it. It's like whoa, bring spare underwear.
Written for and dedicated to
serialkarma, who then had the kindness to beta it. That's love, people.Everwood
Life in a Box
Bright’s stretched out perpendicular to the direction of the mattress for no discernable reason apart from that’s where he collapsed when Ephram went off to get cookies and milk, which seem strangely wholesome considering the household in question. His head is dangling off one side and his feet the other, since he’s way too long for it this way.
There are comic books sticking out from underneath Ephram’s bed and solitary socks poking out of various half-open drawers. Plus, Ephram hasn’t made his bed in god only knows how long, so when Bright rolls over he gets slightly tangled in flannel sheets and shirts that were rejected that morning for whatever reason.
The material is warm against the bare skin not covered by the shorts he’s wearing, and he makes a point of keeping his sneakers off the bed. He’s just laying there, resting, not really doing anything constructive, or destructive, for that matter.
He slides off the edge slightly, and reaches down for a glossy cover to leaf through.
The comic book is cool between Bright’s fingers, and everything Ephram reads has a name Bright can’t pronounce. The pictures are nice, but they don’t really mean anything to Bright, so he tends to nod his head and let Ephram rattle on when he gets excited about whatever he’s reading.
Bright’s learned that seems to be key in being friends with Ephram.
Eventually, he lets the book slip away, and it lands with a thud on the floor. He scratches at the back of his neck absently and kicks a cardboard box behind him by accident.
For as long as Bright has known Ephram, he’s done nothing but talk about how amazing New York is and how he can’t wait to get out of Everwood and go back. Except considering he’s supposed to be leaving tomorrow to go back to ”civilization,” he sure hasn’t done a lot to get ready for it.
Bright he thought *he* was bad at packing, but he’s got nothing on Ephram.
There are still posters all over Ephram’s walls and CD’s cases littered on his desk. There are half-drunk glasses of water on Ephram’s nightstand and sneakers all over the place. Ephram’s room is a minefield of Ephram-ness.
It’s just how Bright likes it.
He doesn’t want things to change.
But tomorrow Ephram will be leaving for the Manhattan School of Music, and that will pretty much be it.
“Were you planning on hibernating in my bed, or is this just some new ritual where you’re marking territory?” Ephram’s voice makes Bright’s stomach jump, and he pushes himself up hastily, which only succeeds in further tangling him in Ephram's sheets.
He glares at Ephram, who's standing in the doorway holding two glasses of milk and a small box under one arm. "Whatever, man, like I would want to lay claim to your stinky sheets."
Bright flushes when he realizes that that's exactly what he'd like to do. How else to explain him rolling around on Ephram's *bed*?
"Stinky sheets, Bright? What are you, three?"
"Shut up," Bright says, accepting the proffered glass of milk. He quickly takes a large gulp to avoid further lameness on his part.
Ephram just smirks again and drops the package of Oreos on the bed.
“Your sparkling conversation and witty batter wound me,” he quips, taking a sip of milk before setting his glass on his desk.
Bright is entirely too old to pout, but it’s a really tough habit to control. He busies himself opening the package of Oreos and cramming one down his mouth as Ephram shifts boxes around and does a lot of nothing.
“Are you going to pack that stuff or are you just redecorating?” Bright asks around a mouthful of cookie.
“I have organizational skills that would make Martha Stewart jealous,” Ephram says, making a show of emptying an entire drawer full of socks into an empty box.
“So you’ll be joining her in jail soon?” Bright grins, barely dodging away in time when Ephram throws a ball of green socks at his head.
He stuffs another cookie in his mouth and chews as Ephram goes back to his half-assed version of packing. He empties drawer after drawer into the box until shirts are overflowing from the top. He then makes a great show of stuffing the shirts all the way in and closing the top, using an errant sneaker to keep it from flapping open again.
“At this rate I’ll be done by Christmas,” Ephram quips, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as though he’s just completed some sort of strenuous labor. “Time for a break.”
The bed quivers as he drops down next to Bright. He turns down the cookie Bright offers him though, and glances around his room dejectedly. “This is so never getting done.”
“I’ll help,” someone who sounds just like Bright says.
They’re both slightly shocked at this development, and Ephram nods as Bright stuffs another Oreo in his mouth.
“Cool,” he says by way of thanks, yet neither one moves. The realization that this is the last time they’re going to be together for a while hangs between them like a cheap curtain.
There are certain things Bright takes for granted: his mom’s pot roast and Delia’s crush on him. The way that Ephram snarks at him just before he lets him inside the Brown house. The fact that Bright is always welcome at Ephram’s house regardless of the time of day.
The fact that Ephram is always around when Bright needs him.
Ephram has always talked about leaving, and Bright has just accepted it as part of Ephram’s charm. As part of what makes him him. He’s never really thought about what it’ll be like when Ephram’s gone.
He doesn’t want Ephram to go.
He’s startled when Ephram pulls the glass of milk out of his hand and takes a long draught. Ephram’s neck is a long column of white that makes Bright’s throat feel dry.
“You know I’ve got cooties, right?” he says, laughing when Ephram sputters.
Ephram looks at him as though he’s crazy. He likes that. “If you’ve got’em, I’ve probably already got them, too.”
Bright nods solemnly. The silence between them is punctuated by Delia yelling something from below as the door slams behind her.
Ephram picks up the manga that Bright was reading earlier and tosses it towards the box of shirts and socks. “Look at all the packing I’m getting done.”
“Amazing,” Bright says.
“I know I am,” Ephram smirks.
“Whatever, freak.”
“Look who’s talking.”
“Yeah, but at least I stay away from the purple hair.”
“It’ll be blue at Thanksgiving.”
Bright’s quiet.
“I’m coming back,” Ephram says to no one in particular. “Or you could visit.”
Bright shifts on the bed, carefully extracting himself from Ephram’s sheets. He’s not sure what to say, so he chooses not to say anything. He’s learned that life works pretty good when he does that.
“I’ll miss you too, freak,” Ephram says eventually.
The alarm clock reads 3:48 p.m. and downstairs Bright can hear Dr Brown moving around in the living room. It’s a Sunday afternoon and the NFL preseason will be on starting next week.
When Bright leans over and kisses Ephram on the lips, he’s not sure if he’s saying goodbye or hello.
-the end-
Given lyrics:
the picture is far too big to look at, kid / your eyes won't open wide enough
-bright eyes, "the big picture"
Edited to note Mad Pimpage: [clears throat]
queenofalostart also wrote Bright/Ephram for her Two-Lines Fic. I have decided that we are part of a cabal. lalejandra is also a member, she writes some good crack. And the only thing better is that marleigh made a place for all the good crack to be stored at the same time. Hit that pipe at everwoobie, people.In O.C. news,
serialkarma wrote this, which I am not just pimping because I betad it. It's like whoa, bring spare underwear.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 09:05 am (UTC)They are so cute.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:09 am (UTC)I've just had a chance to read some of your Everwood. I have to say you're very good with the closing lines yourself. Thanks for commenting.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-25 08:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 09:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:10 am (UTC)Squeeeeee!
Date: 2003-10-23 09:22 am (UTC)Re: Squeeeeee!
Date: 2003-10-23 11:11 am (UTC)That would be a lot of children. Just sayin'
Also, I think Bright and Ephram are so adorable it's astounding. Second only to Seth, and well, Seth actually.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 09:47 am (UTC)*hugs* thanks again, sweetie. It made my day.
Also:
When did B&E stop meaning Breaking & Entering?
I was so thinking this other day when I was reading The Mysteries of Pittsburgh and there was a chapter titled "B&E" and I thought, "Bright and Ephram? Wha'?" And actually had to think for a minute before I got to Breaking and Entering. How sad is that? Also, I love Michael Chabon.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:13 am (UTC)I think we should find one and ask. *winks*
I was so thinking this other day when I was reading The Mysteries of Pittsburgh and there was a chapter titled "B&E" and I thought, "Bright and Ephram? Wha'?" And actually had to think for a minute before I got to Breaking and Entering. How sad is that? Also, I love Michael Chabon.
Ahhhhhhhh, you're making me think of the Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay. *pauses for moment of adoration* I think Adrien Brody should play Joe. Also, B&E has always meant Breaking and Entering to me, but now? I get confused.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:31 am (UTC)Adrien Brody could totally pull it off, but he's so pale and thin. I also see Joe as much swarthier. I have been desperately trying to cast this book in my head for months now, but nobody ever quite fits. There is no way any movie could measure up to the one in my head.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 09:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:14 am (UTC)I am a major league pimp; I should drive a Caddy. Except I couldn't park it. They need to make a Mini Caddy, then I will drive that. Also, you say the sweetest things, thank you!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 09:48 am (UTC)*slaps forehead again* Note to self: DO not slap forehead as it is very painful.
*runs off to finish his half-assed fic*
*stops and worships Zahra first* Beautiful fic!
*runs off*
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:15 am (UTC)It's cool;
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 10:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:16 am (UTC)Don't let that dissuade you, and ignore the annoying chick too, the rest of it is very good. Even the fathers, they're extremely entertaining.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 10:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 11:17 am (UTC)Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 12:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 01:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 01:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 02:53 pm (UTC)I am not bitter.
I'm working on it, dude. I don't have a handle on the inherent Brightness. In fact, I have no Bright voice at all, which makes it extra hard, since this whole fic is Bright POV.
It's past 6,000 words, so that's good, right?
Not really that good. It's only a little over half done.
*sigh*
Back to the mines.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 03:03 pm (UTC)I am not bitter.
I see you are bitter so I'm not going to yell -- that loudly. 75 pages and six chapters in and you're calling this little and short? DUDE! Prior to this the longest thing I'd ever written (apart from in uni) was 25 pages! Don't start with me, munchkin! I see how you are. Remember this later on.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 09:30 am (UTC)In honor of this, I have dedicated my next fic to you.
*smooch*
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 09:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:06 am (UTC)*pets the Zahra*
And I was just kidding about dedicating the story to you because you don't take teasing well. I already put you in the AN weeks ago.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 12:52 pm (UTC)It's weird little lines like that that make me just grin like a loon. Tis a good sign. *g*
Loved it, and super glad you actually stayed the course to bring us yet more of the goodness.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 01:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 06:38 pm (UTC)“I’ll help,” someone who sounds just like Bright says.
so nicely put...i like the shock factor there.
When Bright leans over and kisses Ephram on the lips, he’s not sure if he’s saying goodbye or hello.
and awwwwwwwwwwwww a million times. you always have the best ending lines, for real, zahra.
*wanders off in search of oreos*
damn you for making me hungry, woman.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 09:59 am (UTC)You're so sweet.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-23 08:15 pm (UTC)[I friended you because you rock, and I finally stumbled on how to do it.]
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:00 am (UTC)They're called icons, and i'm glad you like it. Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2003-10-24 10:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-11-05 05:45 pm (UTC)xoxo,
Vlada
no subject
Date: 2007-03-19 02:27 am (UTC)