Bleeding Love
Title: Bleeding Love
Rating: G
Word count: 246 words
Characters/Pairings: Marian, Guy; Guy/Marian
Prompt: Guy/Marian; embroidery
Summary: Guy interrupts Marian's embroidery session.
Notes: Title from Leona Lewis' song. Corny as heck as titles go, but rather appropriate...
“That’s beautiful work.”
A soft voice over her shoulder makes her jump, and she jabs her needle into her finger. Stopping herself before she curses in a most unladylike manner, she drops the cloth unceremoniously into her work basket and sucks the blood off the digit before they it fall and stain her gown. When she turns to face him, his expression is aghast.
“I’m truly sorry,” he murmurs as he kneels beside her chair. The sincerity in his voice and in his eyes as he draws a handkerchief from his sleeve and holds it out to her cement his apology.
“The blood will ruin it.”
“It doesn’t matter - I have plenty.”
The state of the embroidered ‘G’ in the corner, fraying and barely legible, tells her he’s lying. “And it’s my fault for injuring you anyway,” he adds.
She nods and dabs at the minor wound. She’s had worse.
“That is beautiful though.”
She follows his gaze to the discarded embroidery. It will probably never be finished, knowing her patience for the pastime. She only started it because the sleet outside put paid to her preferred hobbies, and she felt idle with nothing to do.
“It’s nothing,” she replies.
The six crisp handkerchiefs that find their way into Guy’s possession the following Christmas meal, the ‘G’s one corner painstakingly perfect in black and gold thread, are certainly not nothing. Nor is the shy smile of gratitude and understanding that passes between the two of them.
Rating: G
Word count: 246 words
Characters/Pairings: Marian, Guy; Guy/Marian
Prompt: Guy/Marian; embroidery
Summary: Guy interrupts Marian's embroidery session.
Notes: Title from Leona Lewis' song. Corny as heck as titles go, but rather appropriate...
“That’s beautiful work.”
A soft voice over her shoulder makes her jump, and she jabs her needle into her finger. Stopping herself before she curses in a most unladylike manner, she drops the cloth unceremoniously into her work basket and sucks the blood off the digit before they it fall and stain her gown. When she turns to face him, his expression is aghast.
“I’m truly sorry,” he murmurs as he kneels beside her chair. The sincerity in his voice and in his eyes as he draws a handkerchief from his sleeve and holds it out to her cement his apology.
“The blood will ruin it.”
“It doesn’t matter - I have plenty.”
The state of the embroidered ‘G’ in the corner, fraying and barely legible, tells her he’s lying. “And it’s my fault for injuring you anyway,” he adds.
She nods and dabs at the minor wound. She’s had worse.
“That is beautiful though.”
She follows his gaze to the discarded embroidery. It will probably never be finished, knowing her patience for the pastime. She only started it because the sleet outside put paid to her preferred hobbies, and she felt idle with nothing to do.
“It’s nothing,” she replies.
The six crisp handkerchiefs that find their way into Guy’s possession the following Christmas meal, the ‘G’s one corner painstakingly perfect in black and gold thread, are certainly not nothing. Nor is the shy smile of gratitude and understanding that passes between the two of them.