Fic: Best Served Cold (1/1)
Title: Best Served Cold
Rating: PG
Characters: Highlight for Potential Spoiler James “Sawyer” Ford, Charlotte Staples Lewis
Word Count: 108
Summary: They both want the very same thing. For the lost_in_108 Challenge #9: Simple and the 18coda Prompt #16 - Mosso. Spoilers through 5.16 - The Incident, Parts 1 & 2; Speculative Spoilers for Season 6.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author’s Notes: The direct result of this S6 spoiler (thanks to valhalla37 for linking it); aside from that, I don't even know.
Best Served Cold
Crystal and china and gold-plated silverware - the whistle of damp fingertips against the rims of champagne flutes. She tries not to notice how her hair reflects against her glass: viscous, rusty like blood as she swirls, studies, loses herself inside until his baby blues catch her, fish her back out.
“Do we have a plan?”
(she sees the shoreline in his eyes; she knows - that Island took more from them than anyone else)
“Darlin’,” he drawls with the fast-rising tide, the slow-falling rain, and of course he doesn’t see her corpse lying in the thick soil, the dead leaves; “I thought you’d never ask.”
(of course he does)
Rating: PG
Characters: Highlight for Potential Spoiler James “Sawyer” Ford, Charlotte Staples Lewis
Word Count: 108
Summary: They both want the very same thing. For the lost_in_108 Challenge #9: Simple and the 18coda Prompt #16 - Mosso. Spoilers through 5.16 - The Incident, Parts 1 & 2; Speculative Spoilers for Season 6.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Author’s Notes: The direct result of this S6 spoiler (thanks to valhalla37 for linking it); aside from that, I don't even know.
Best Served Cold
Crystal and china and gold-plated silverware - the whistle of damp fingertips against the rims of champagne flutes. She tries not to notice how her hair reflects against her glass: viscous, rusty like blood as she swirls, studies, loses herself inside until his baby blues catch her, fish her back out.
“Do we have a plan?”
(she sees the shoreline in his eyes; she knows - that Island took more from them than anyone else)
“Darlin’,” he drawls with the fast-rising tide, the slow-falling rain, and of course he doesn’t see her corpse lying in the thick soil, the dead leaves; “I thought you’d never ask.”
(of course he does)