Elements of a Good Story
a/n: Random Castle/Beckett fluff. Please review!
Elements of A Good Story.
Any good English teacher would tell you a good story has a strong beginning.
Castle would second that.
He would remember what they had didn’t hit off at the very start.
He would recall that she had threatened to shoot him more than once.
He would call to mind the days they spent retracing the steps of murderers, and going under cover to fancy parties to solve a case.
Any good English teacher would tell you that a good story has a captivating middle.
Beckett would second that.
She would retain the memory of their idea of ‘going out’ for the first time.
She would commemorate the days where she threatened to push him off the roof, but a kiss would always make things better.
She would reminisce the Sundays he convinced her to go repelling off a building, instead of to the park. and the Saturdays where they would paintball ‘til their deaths.
Any good English teacher would tell you that a good story has an enthralling ending.
Castle wouldn’t second that. Neither would Beckett.
Because neither one of them had invented it yet.
Castle looked down at Beckett, his arms wrapped protectively around her small waist, her toned legs tangled in his.
She looked back up at him, almost smirking. There’d be loads more to remember tomorrow.
Besides, the pen was definitely still in Castle’s hand.
Elements of A Good Story.
Any good English teacher would tell you a good story has a strong beginning.
Castle would second that.
He would remember what they had didn’t hit off at the very start.
He would recall that she had threatened to shoot him more than once.
He would call to mind the days they spent retracing the steps of murderers, and going under cover to fancy parties to solve a case.
Any good English teacher would tell you that a good story has a captivating middle.
Beckett would second that.
She would retain the memory of their idea of ‘going out’ for the first time.
She would commemorate the days where she threatened to push him off the roof, but a kiss would always make things better.
She would reminisce the Sundays he convinced her to go repelling off a building, instead of to the park. and the Saturdays where they would paintball ‘til their deaths.
Any good English teacher would tell you that a good story has an enthralling ending.
Castle wouldn’t second that. Neither would Beckett.
Because neither one of them had invented it yet.
Castle looked down at Beckett, his arms wrapped protectively around her small waist, her toned legs tangled in his.
She looked back up at him, almost smirking. There’d be loads more to remember tomorrow.
Besides, the pen was definitely still in Castle’s hand.