West Wing FF: Missing colours drabbles
So raedbard's Christmas present was a drabble of her prompting. Said prompt being colour. These were the two I wrote that she didn't get, because I decided that the first was really more for me ( ;-) ) and the second wasn't terribly related to the prompt. But I quite like some lines from both of them, so here they are for the benefit of the West Wing lovers on the flist...
Blue and red and white
On-screen the states flick from white to blue and far too much red.
Josh’s eyes are red where he has been rubbing them all day in disbelief. Sam’s are dark blue with unshed tears. Toby is white. He has never been foolish enough to get used to winning, but he is no longer used to loss.
Later, Josh’s mouth is wet and red as he gasps completion. Sam’s fingers leave blue ink-marks on the pale curve of Toby’s stomach as he traces the only good words he has written today. For a moment, all the day’s colours fade but these.
* * * *
Gold
She glows, entirely in her element. The dress is shimmering gold, and she looks like a film star or a goddess. Elegant and perfect as she moves him through the crowd. He has loved her dripping wet, with make-up streaked down her face, but this is different. When she is like this, voice low and amused and warm, tanned from Californian sun and shining in her finery, he remembers why he feels her absence so much in cold, grey DC.
As she turns to laugh at him, the light catches her hair and he nearly tells her he loves her.
Feedback, even for baby drabbles, is always nice.
Blue and red and white
On-screen the states flick from white to blue and far too much red.
Josh’s eyes are red where he has been rubbing them all day in disbelief. Sam’s are dark blue with unshed tears. Toby is white. He has never been foolish enough to get used to winning, but he is no longer used to loss.
Later, Josh’s mouth is wet and red as he gasps completion. Sam’s fingers leave blue ink-marks on the pale curve of Toby’s stomach as he traces the only good words he has written today. For a moment, all the day’s colours fade but these.
* * * *
Gold
She glows, entirely in her element. The dress is shimmering gold, and she looks like a film star or a goddess. Elegant and perfect as she moves him through the crowd. He has loved her dripping wet, with make-up streaked down her face, but this is different. When she is like this, voice low and amused and warm, tanned from Californian sun and shining in her finery, he remembers why he feels her absence so much in cold, grey DC.
As she turns to laugh at him, the light catches her hair and he nearly tells her he loves her.
Feedback, even for baby drabbles, is always nice.