hurinhouse (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hurinhouse) wrote2012-08-16 07:29 pm
hurinhouse) wrote2012-08-16 07:29 pm
Entry tags:
Yearly Ritual
Title: Yearly Ritual
Fandom: White Collar
Author: hurinhouse
Disclaimer: Entirely fiction
Rating: G
Characters: Neal
Summary: There's always a way to uphold tradition.
194 words
With his eyes closed he can hear the clink of silverware and glasses, murmurs between waiters and patrons. He catches a dirty joke between two busboys that threatens to distract him with laughter, reminds him of locker room antics in high school.
So he leans into it because… why shouldn't he enjoy himself on today of all days? He's in no hurry. He allows himself a snicker and lets his memories drift further back, to streamers and colorful cardboard hats and pinches to grow an inch.
He makes the same impossible wish he's made for over ten years, opens his eyes and blows out the thick candle hooked to the center of the upscale table. And he takes a bite.
Angel food cake and strawberries. On a normal day, one of his favorites. Today it's just not the same as homemade chocolate cake with a borrowed name written across in Ellen's frosting. But he can't afford to be seen with one of those today. Let Peter guess some other date.
He takes a sip of a nostalgic raspberry lemonade that he hopes looks like a mixed drink and salutes himself.
Happy Birthday to me.
Fandom: White Collar
Author: hurinhouse
Disclaimer: Entirely fiction
Rating: G
Characters: Neal
Summary: There's always a way to uphold tradition.
194 words
With his eyes closed he can hear the clink of silverware and glasses, murmurs between waiters and patrons. He catches a dirty joke between two busboys that threatens to distract him with laughter, reminds him of locker room antics in high school.
So he leans into it because… why shouldn't he enjoy himself on today of all days? He's in no hurry. He allows himself a snicker and lets his memories drift further back, to streamers and colorful cardboard hats and pinches to grow an inch.
He makes the same impossible wish he's made for over ten years, opens his eyes and blows out the thick candle hooked to the center of the upscale table. And he takes a bite.
Angel food cake and strawberries. On a normal day, one of his favorites. Today it's just not the same as homemade chocolate cake with a borrowed name written across in Ellen's frosting. But he can't afford to be seen with one of those today. Let Peter guess some other date.
He takes a sip of a nostalgic raspberry lemonade that he hopes looks like a mixed drink and salutes himself.
Happy Birthday to me.
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