Title: diary

Prompt: Prompt 6—Because people don't have wings, we look for ways to fly

Character/Pairing: Echo, Oz

A/N: Ahh, a bit better than my last stab at Echo

Word Count: 250

Summary: Whatever he's making her feel, she wishes he'd just stop it.

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"Whatcha writing, Eko?"

Oz leans over her shoulder and Echo tries not to flinch.

"It's Echo," Echo replies automatically, her hands slowly sliding up to cover the book.

He's still peering over her shoulder, too close for comfort. She can feel his breath on her cheek, his hair brushing her neck as he moves forward. "Is that your diary?"

"Yes," she answers, her hands still covering part of it. She isn't sure why she's doing this—it's not as though he's on these pages. It's not as though she should care if he is.

"Oh, cool." Oz moves away now and she relaxes. Her skin still feels warm from where he touched, almost suffocating so, and she doesn't understand why her body feels so foreign when he's around.

His hand reaches down and grabs the book before she can react. "Can I look?"

He's already flipping through it when she nods. Her heartbeat is thrumming like she's about to fight and she doesn't like it. Whatever Oz is doing to her, she wishes he'd just stop it.

"Thanks, Eko."

"It's Echo."

She's supposed to be Echo. Not Eko. Not anything else. Just Echo.

(She's not supposed to be so real.)