AN: Just a twisted little ficlet that popped into my mind. I figured I would share it with the world. ;)
Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog belongs to Joss Whedon. Word.
The photographs were spread out on the dusty living room carpet, each picture face up so that they could be seen, but by his eyes only. He only took them out when he was alone. Only he was allowed to look at the pictures.
Each one was either blurry or had some sort of fault to them: His finger on the lens in those ones, a random person had walked by, some leaves in the frame, and that one time a little boy had stolen his camera and taken pictures of some ants eating the carcass of a dead bee...
Each picture was messed up in its own way, whether it be because of its faults, or because of what the main focus of the picture was. But he had nothing better to do, did he? Sure, they were messed up and slightly disturbing... it wasn't like he was a stalker, was he?
...Was he?
Horrible picked up a photo, holding the delicate paper between his gloved thumb and pointer finger. It was good he was wearing gloves; he wouldn't get fingerprints on the picture. Such a wonderful picture it was.
She deserved to be photographed. Penny was so beautiful. Her face, her body, everything about her seemed made just so he could stare at her, so he could take in her beauty. She was practically a model in his eyes.
Of course, had Horrible been somewhat sane, he would have realized: She was just like any other woman on the planet. She was normal, nice, plain, and he could talk to her if he just walked up and said some words. Normal words, words of a human being, not a mad scientist or evil genius. Just Billy.
Call him a stalker if you wish, but Horrible knew better. He was just appreciating the beauty of creation, deciding to focus on one beautiful creation at a time. Penny just happened to be that beautiful creation.
He would appreciate her forever, he swore it. Until the day she died.
And so, the photographs were spread out on the dusty living room carpet, each picture face up so that they could be seen, but by his eyes only. He only took them out when he was alone. Only he was allowed to look at the pictures...