Here we are with another installment for sad Oscar. I couldn’t really think of a place to split it up, so it’s all here. Brace.
( Sad Oscar AU )
Oscar didn’t move from the doll couch for a long time. He memorized the pattern on the ceiling, then forgot it again so he could observe it anew with the later-afternoon glare across it. His breathing was slow and trance-like, but every noise in the vast human house kept his heart rate on a sprint and he wouldn’t dare let his guard down.
When he finally heard the unmistakable cadence of footsteps approaching the room his dollhouse was opulently displayed in, he sat up. Through the glass front of his cage-house, he could survey the entrance to the room.
A large part of him wanted to dive behind doll furniture and hide, but his training petrified him to his seat. He didn’t want to risk upsetting the humans who bought him. Who owned him.
It didn’t take long for Charlotte to appear in the doorway like she was walking on stage for a performance. She walked with a proud air, confidence rattling in the floor upon every step. Her presence filled the room in a way that suggested she was used to attention and praise, and expected it regularly.
Writerly Things 