12 Days of Sherlolly Drabbles - Her Lips, Her Mouth
Summary: A series of 200 word drabbles for the 2017 12 Days of Sherlolly.
Rating: G
A/N - Day Six - (“Lipstick” submitted by Anonymous)
12 Days of Sherlolly Drabbles
Her Lips, Her Mouth
No dark, dramatic hues for her. No purple or burgundy or deep blood red.
No bright pink or obnoxiously vivid blue or green better suited to a younger generation.
Her pink is softer, feminine. Making her look youthful, but not too young. Fresh. Innocent.
She favours coral and beige. Colours that are natural. Neutral. Even with her off-beat, eye-sore clothing, she still has a tendency to deliberately blend into the background. Always there, always reassuring; but forgotten when one thinks back on a moment.
Forgotten by all but him, he sometimes thinks. He never forgets. Never deletes a second of her.
Never.
Unbidden, the memory of the one and only time he saw her in red lipstick surfaces. Wet and shiny, meant to draw the eye.
His eye.
Meant to make him think things he shouldn’t. Picture things that were forbidden. Her lips under his. The bright red pigment smeared across her mouth. Visible proof that he’d done the unthinkable and given into a crude, baser need.
He regrets many things from that Christmas. The hardest to forgive is the hurt in her eyes and the tremble of those red, red lips.
He will spend years thinking of those lips.
Rating: G
A/N - Day Six - (“Lipstick” submitted by Anonymous)
12 Days of Sherlolly Drabbles
Her Lips, Her Mouth
No dark, dramatic hues for her. No purple or burgundy or deep blood red.
No bright pink or obnoxiously vivid blue or green better suited to a younger generation.
Her pink is softer, feminine. Making her look youthful, but not too young. Fresh. Innocent.
She favours coral and beige. Colours that are natural. Neutral. Even with her off-beat, eye-sore clothing, she still has a tendency to deliberately blend into the background. Always there, always reassuring; but forgotten when one thinks back on a moment.
Forgotten by all but him, he sometimes thinks. He never forgets. Never deletes a second of her.
Never.
Unbidden, the memory of the one and only time he saw her in red lipstick surfaces. Wet and shiny, meant to draw the eye.
His eye.
Meant to make him think things he shouldn’t. Picture things that were forbidden. Her lips under his. The bright red pigment smeared across her mouth. Visible proof that he’d done the unthinkable and given into a crude, baser need.
He regrets many things from that Christmas. The hardest to forgive is the hurt in her eyes and the tremble of those red, red lips.
He will spend years thinking of those lips.