storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-03-16 02:46 pm
storypaint) wrote2009-03-16 02:46 pm
Writing Home (Luke gen)
Title: Writing Home
Fandom: Professor Layton
Length: 173 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
writing_game: F Prompt: Familiar +1
Pairing: Luke gen
Other: spoilers for second game
Excerpt: Luke thought America would be the same as Britain.
Luke thought America would be the same as Britain. They spoke the same language and they were once part of Britain, after all. How different could it be?
One day of fighting customs, trying to decipher new accents, and trying to take in all the new sights and sounds was enough to convince him. America was different all right. Everything was louder, brighter, dirtier, rougher here. The new house was tiny and full of people. His parents worked more here than they ever had at home.
He wrote letters full of his new ideas and experiences, and Layton and Flora wrote back regularly. Sometimes if no one was looking when the mail came, Luke would sneak up to his room and open the letter right under his nose, inhaling the (surely imagined after all this time) smells of Britain-- Layton's dry tea scent, Flora's bubbly apple perfume.
Every time, imagined or not, it was like a little piece of home in that envelope, waiting for him to come back.
Fandom: Professor Layton
Length: 173 words
Prompt:
writing_game: F Prompt: Familiar +1Pairing: Luke gen
Other: spoilers for second game
Excerpt: Luke thought America would be the same as Britain.
Luke thought America would be the same as Britain. They spoke the same language and they were once part of Britain, after all. How different could it be?
One day of fighting customs, trying to decipher new accents, and trying to take in all the new sights and sounds was enough to convince him. America was different all right. Everything was louder, brighter, dirtier, rougher here. The new house was tiny and full of people. His parents worked more here than they ever had at home.
He wrote letters full of his new ideas and experiences, and Layton and Flora wrote back regularly. Sometimes if no one was looking when the mail came, Luke would sneak up to his room and open the letter right under his nose, inhaling the (surely imagined after all this time) smells of Britain-- Layton's dry tea scent, Flora's bubbly apple perfume.
Every time, imagined or not, it was like a little piece of home in that envelope, waiting for him to come back.