Cowboy Bebop. Vincent/Electra. PG-13. 100 words.
She dreams of an endless dune. Hot sand shifts beneath her boots and prevents her from moving forward. Vincent is getting further away, and panic grips her; he’ll be nothing more than a smudge on the horizon by the time she manages a foot.
“Vincent, wait!” she shouts. Her words are thrown back at her, but somehow he hears.
He turns and the wind whips his hair in front of his face. Hollow eyes stare out from a mask of shadow that is nightmare dark. Electra’s fingers curl, nails pressing crescents into the calluses of her palms.
“Wait for me…”