AN- so here it is. I know it's short, but it is important to the plot. It will be slash, so if you're not interested, don't read! I don't know when I will be updating, but I will as soon as I finish the chapters, which will be much longer than this one. Oh, and before you start reading.. I DO NOT OWN TOY STORY IN ANY WAY!
Now enjoy!
When everything changedChapter 1: The Number
It was a cold winter's night in November. The gray pavements were covered in a fresh blanket of snow, not yet trampled on; the trees were sprinkled with a fine dusting, making them glitter in the silvery moonlight. There was an icy breeze that made peoples cheeks tingle and turn a warm pink from the cold. It was a peaceful night, showing signs that tomorrow would be vibrant blue skies, but still the same temperature. Aside from the sound of the wind and the crackling leaves, a small creak echoed down the empty road.
A man, around 5'6 in height, hurried out of heavy double doors, a big stack of lose papers clutched to his chest. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, a plain black tie, black trousers, matching black jacket and a button down coat that reached the end of his back. His chocolate brown hair shone in the white light of the moon, and bounced off his pale skin.
It was too late at night for anyone to leave work. But it was a routine in this man's life. He depended on it to keep him busy and away from his thoughts.
The sounds of his black shiny shoes clipping the path and the crunch of the snow echoed through the air.
He rounded a bend, and at the end of this road stood a fine four bedroomed house, covered in a sheet of snow, making it sparkle. He was just about to cross the road when someone bumped into him, sending him and all the paperwork crashing to the floor.
His head cracked against the concrete, the soft snow doing nothing to stop the impact, and he saw stars for a moment. He closed his eyes tightly to overcome the wave of dizziness, as he reached a shaky hand to cover the bump that was beginning to form.
He cracked an eye open to see a man kneeling next to him, his eyes full of concern, his arms full of the lose paperwork, and a black biro sticking out from behind an ear.
"Are you okay?" the stranger asked in his silky voice.
He nodded, but the movement caused him to wince. However, he tried to hide it.
The stranger didn't look convinced, but offered a hand.
He took it, and was heaved back onto unstable feet. The stranger gripped his arm until he was sure he wasn't going to fall, and then handed over the paperwork.
Only then did he look properly at the man in front of him.
Soft, light blonde hair was gelled back, a few strands falling in front of icy blue eyes, reaching to the small rounded nose. Pink tinted lips were pulled into a small frown, and somewhat darker blonde eyebrows were burrowed, nearly meeting the tiny crinkle that they made in the center.
"If you're sure." The stranger muttered under his breath. "See you around, then?" he then said out loud.
The man placed the papers in his hands into a more comfortable position, and eyes the same shade of his chocolate hair widened slightly at the stranger's words.
"Y-Yeah, ok." He stuttered, his voice cracking slightly, but you could still tell it was not as deep as the strangers, but just as velvety.
A smirk played on the lips of the blonde as he turned, lifting a hand in departure.
The man stared in disbelief after the stranger, his mouth slightly open. He caught himself quickly, closing it and crossed the road, looking out for more weird strangers. He balanced his paperwork on one arm, steadying it with nimble fingers as he pushed open the white painted wooden gate, and slowly walked up to the shiny red front door.
His papers still balanced on one arm, he rummaged into his trouser pocket and pulled out a silver key in the style of cow skin, with a miniature cowboy hat and boot key ring attached. He shoved the key into the keyhole, and turned until it clicked. The door swung open to reveal a posh dark wooden floor, littered with elegant cream rugs, and every now and again a cow skin. The walls were painted soft, light beige, and a couple of hanging picture frames of bulls and cowboys riding strong stallions, trying to catch cows with their lassos. The furniture was white, which were a matching corner sofa, foot stool and two armchairs, scattered with beige, cream and pale blue cushions. On the back, there were folded, pale blue fluffy blankets, which looked like they were throws. There was a flat screen TV in another corner of the room, with a dark oak coffee table planted in the middle.
In the far corner flowed a graceful stairway, leading upstairs. Next was the kitchen. Midnight black granite shone like stars in the black sky, and with the same dark wooden floor. The beige walls were here, too, but above the cooker were beige, cream and light blue tiles, with a posh air vent above them. Dark oak cabinets stored the food, and a fridge freezer was in the far corner. All this was in one open space, with no doors, only a wall to block off half the kitchen.
The man stumbled inside, shutting the door and placing his paperwork onto the little oak desk that was placed next to the door. His shook off his coat, and hung it onto a sliver coat hanger and gathered his work up again. He dragged himself up the stairs, and through a cream hallway, entered the main bedroom. With cream walls and a pale wooden floor, the dark oak bed stood out from its place in the center of the room, covered in a white quilt and throw, and with dark and light blue cushions. The walls had Wild West pictures, giving colour to the room. A chocolate brown rug was placed on the floor at the end of the bed, pulling the room together. Shoving the paperwork onto a black desk in a far corner, he walked over and shut the light oak blinds, blocking out the whiteness of the snow, and the darkness of the night. He walked back over to his desk, and sat in the matching black chair, and pulled his paperwork over.
He turned over the first page and… his eyebrows burrowed in confusion. On the blank sheet was a roughly written phone number in the middle, inscribed in black ink.
His eyes widened as he remembered the stranger picking up the paper…
The black biro behind his ear…
And then everything fell into place. And for the first time in a long while, the man smiled.
The stranger walked slowly to his apartment, deep in thought about the man he accidently knocked over in the street. He just couldn't get those beautiful chocolate eyes out of his mind. But he also couldn't forget the lines around them, screaming exhaustion, and the black bags underneath, showing many late, maybe sleepless, nights. He just hoped he would phone.
He sighed as he unlocked his front door to his two bedroomed apartment, walking into a cream and lime green room. The light oak tables and chairs stood out against the paint, just like the cream leather sofa and matching two armchairs. He chucked the black rucksack he was carrying on his back onto the closest armchair, walked up the cream-carpeted stairs and into the main bedroom. The walls, a clear white, made the dark maple bed stand out, along with the black and white fluffy rugs that littered the dark oak flooring. Cushions, the same lime green from the living room, were placed neatly on the white quilt and pillows, matching the silk throw that covered the bottom end. Green ornaments were positioned on the dark furniture, and matched the dark photos on the walls.
The stranger jumped onto the bed, stomach first, and took out his mobile from his jean pocket. He stared at it, as if expecting it to ring right then and there, before sighing and placing his hands over his face, the phone laying forgotten next to him.
He was brought out of his thoughts when a strange Sci-fi tone started to play.
He quickly sat up and reached for his phone, staring at it for a split second before his eyes lit up as he answered it.
"Buzz Lightyear, speaking,"