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O HAI THAR, NEW FANDOM
Err, Royal Pains fic. This is , like, the first non-Supernatural thing I've written in a sadly long time... Also, it hits on my prompt table
Blue
Hank | G | 228 words
It's mostly blue in the Hamptons.
It's mostly blue in the Hamptons. Or, at least, it is when you're laying on the beach with your hands laced behind your head wondering what to do now that you've avoided the disaster that Evan likes to cheerfully call Hankapalooza.
Hank smiles and closes his eyes. Man, Evan's going to be pissed when he goes to wake Hank up in half an hour. Definitely worth getting up early. When he opens his eyes again, the sky is still really blue, the color of the sea on the cheesy, retouched postcards that were in the lobby of the Hampt-Inn.
The sun's barely rising, little tinges of purple and peach in the corner of Hank's eye. All he can smell is salt, like back on that first day, when he'd waded out as far as he could go and just looked. It really was beautiful. Still is.
Maybe he'll call Jill later. He's avoiding Evan, and Divya, while a very good assistant and surprisingly witty, isn't really the hang-out type. Jill it is.
The sun comes the rest of the way up, turning the blue to orange and red and pink.
Hank gets up and brushes the sand off his pants. Maybe after he's done dealing with his rich people for the day, he'll watch it all in reverse.
Blue
Hank | G | 228 words
It's mostly blue in the Hamptons.
It's mostly blue in the Hamptons. Or, at least, it is when you're laying on the beach with your hands laced behind your head wondering what to do now that you've avoided the disaster that Evan likes to cheerfully call Hankapalooza.
Hank smiles and closes his eyes. Man, Evan's going to be pissed when he goes to wake Hank up in half an hour. Definitely worth getting up early. When he opens his eyes again, the sky is still really blue, the color of the sea on the cheesy, retouched postcards that were in the lobby of the Hampt-Inn.
The sun's barely rising, little tinges of purple and peach in the corner of Hank's eye. All he can smell is salt, like back on that first day, when he'd waded out as far as he could go and just looked. It really was beautiful. Still is.
Maybe he'll call Jill later. He's avoiding Evan, and Divya, while a very good assistant and surprisingly witty, isn't really the hang-out type. Jill it is.
The sun comes the rest of the way up, turning the blue to orange and red and pink.
Hank gets up and brushes the sand off his pants. Maybe after he's done dealing with his rich people for the day, he'll watch it all in reverse.