He couldn't move.

He couldn't move and someone lurked in the doorway. He couldn't see who it was in the dark, but he felt the menace.

He strained to lift an arm or turn his head but could only raise his heart rate. This weight on his chest, if he could only move his arms he would be able to push it off and breathe freely. Then he would deal with the intruder.

With herculean effort he gasped and sat up, his body yearning towards the doorway.

The empty doorway.

He turned on a light and waited for dawn. Again.

In. Out.

In. Out.

In. Out.

...

...

Three seconds. Four seconds. Five, six, seven--

I start to reach over.

Snort, snuffle, shift, mutter.

In. Out.

In. Out.

etc.

It's always a seven-second delay. I've timed it hundreds of times. One day it's going to be eight seconds, then nine, and I'm going to reach over and get no response. He swore to me that I'll never wake up to his silent, empty shell, that he won't leave me alone in the dark. It's sweet, but I don't believe he has the power to make that promise. So I time those gaps, waiting, just in case the Dark Angel is minded to put up a fight.

Good stuff, people. I love Ailleann's--yep, been there.

Augghhh!

I finally get my protagonist and antagonist into the same room, for what is supposed to be the Key Scene of the Entire Book, setting up Crucial Themes for the entire SERIES...and they've gone wooden on me! They should have great hate chemistry, but I swear this is the flattest scene I've written since I was an 8-year-old writing Narnia-derivative stories with magical talking horses! These two are supposed to be consummate alpha wolves circling each other and snarling, and they're just SITTING there being wooden!

(I know, I know, I've built the scene up in my mind because it's all so Important. But someone please talk me down and convince me I'm capable of making these wooden puppets real boys again. Because they're such fun to write when they're alive.)

Umm - as an exercise might you try writing a slash scene between them, then the hate scene again? I dunno, we have such different styles I don't know if advice from me will help or not.

I don't know. I've never written slash in my life, and I'm not sure these two are where I'd want to start--partly because I just don't want to write anything sexy for the antagonist.

The problem is definitely me, not them. Mostly. I mean, there's a structural issue in that it's hard to go straight to alpha wolves circling and snarling when at this point in the story the antagonist holds all the power. But I think I'm afraid of the scene--afraid I'll screw it up, afraid I'll never be able to make it anywhere near as cool as it is in my head. The archetypes are a lot closer to the surface here than they normally are in my stories, so I need to figure out how to work with that instead of against it.

Yeah, that is why I was suggesting something to shock y out of the pattern to make you take them less seriously. If slash is wrong for you then how about a snark fest. Have them break character and make fun of each others weakness, even the ones they could not know about. Or invent rediculous childhood incidents they could tell about each other. Again the object is not to produce a good scene, but to get you laughing at the characters and taking them less seriously. Do something frivolous with them, then throw it away or hide in a drawer and write the scene you want to write.

Okay, I came in here to ask for a synonym to "chronologically", some word that starts with an 'S', at least I think it does, and google is no help, but then I read the thread and saw the (theme is it?) so I scribbled something out. Hope it's not intruding:

Dark

I'm awake. At least I think I am. My eyes are open but it's still black. Let me shut them. Same. Open. Black. Close. Black. Open. Black.

This is so weird. Where's my alarm clock? Must be a power out or something. I can't remember the last time I've seen dark like this. Seen dark - cool. Let me go check the fuseb---why's my arm not moving. Why can't I move my arms? Hands? FinGERS -- OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD -- breath breath breath Shhhhhhhh

Okay, I must be dreaming. Dreaming that I'm paralyzed or something. Okay, come on wake up. WAKE UP. WAKE...What the hell's that sound?

It sounds like a tiny scream. Or a car. Yeah, a very far away car. No, not that far, like it's going up a hill. No, it's not a car. It's near. Sounds so familiar. What is it? It stopped.

Dammit, I know I've heard that sound before. Well it seems I can hear. Hah. Now it's quiet. Wait, there it is again. I know it now. It's on the tip of my tongue. Tongue, teeth, that's it! It's a...drill? Sounds like it, only why's it in my bedroom? Oh no. I hear movement. Is that panting? WHO THE FUCK'S IN MY ROOM???? OH SHIT, THAT IS A DRILL. OR A CHAINSAW. OH FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. ARE MY ARMS GONE! MY LEGS! OH JESUSCHRISTJESUSCHRISTJESUSCHRIST THAT SOUND GETTING LOUDER AND CLOSER UGHHH THAT STENCH ON ME DEARGOD ITS ON ME ITS ON ME WHAT IS IT ITS ON ME ITS TOUCHING MY GET IT OFF GET OFF GET.....

Not intrusive at all! It's what we're here for; the more, the merrier.

Wolfram, that is seriously creepy and probably everyone's worst nightmare. Ugh.

Um. Wow, Wolfram, you do know how to make an entrance. Welcome. Especially if you're going to bring the adrenaline like that.

I...don't know what word you're searching for, though. Sequential, maybe? Just a wild guess. Webster's Thesaurus doesn't know, either.