The Strawberry Blonde.
Title:The Strawberry Blonde
Author:MightyMegani_only_dream
Rating:R
Pairing:No one yet
POV:1st/ JON
Summary:He's Jon Walker, he sees this everyday. He knows how to handle his emotions around the dead. "Year's of practice prove that they're the ones that feed off your pain. They consume you, your thoughts. I try to not let it get to me,"
Disclaimer:Nah, Jon wasn't born this early.
Author Notes:The result of some "alone time" on my porch with some pouches of capri sun and fireflies as my light source. =]
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There's nothing I love more than the way her limp body felt in my arms.
The way her head fell back and a shrill scream ripped from her hoarse throat, later reverberating off the walls of the almost empty room.
The way her blood left incriminating stains on her gown, my hands.
The gasping and sputtering of a perfect life,
coming to the perfect end.
There's nothing I love more than a puff of smoke.
Exhaled from a throat as long and slender as the cigarette it burns from.
The gentle flick of the manicured fingers that dump the remains of the burning cigarette into the ashtray.
The graceful flip of her bleach blonde curls over her bare shoulder and the icy glare that emanates from the crystal blue eyes, lined in dark, deliberate, black strokes.
The compression and spread of her blood red lips as a beautiful voice sings gently the words written on the back of her favorite napkin.
---
A/N: The beginning of a new slash, I hope. I still have a lot of plot development to go through to get this story off the ground. Erm..thoughts, perhaps? doubt it.
Author:MightyMegani_only_dream
Rating:R
Pairing:No one yet
POV:1st/ JON
Summary:He's Jon Walker, he sees this everyday. He knows how to handle his emotions around the dead. "Year's of practice prove that they're the ones that feed off your pain. They consume you, your thoughts. I try to not let it get to me,"
Disclaimer:Nah, Jon wasn't born this early.
Author Notes:The result of some "alone time" on my porch with some pouches of capri sun and fireflies as my light source. =]
-------------
There's nothing I love more than the way her limp body felt in my arms.
The way her head fell back and a shrill scream ripped from her hoarse throat, later reverberating off the walls of the almost empty room.
The way her blood left incriminating stains on her gown, my hands.
The gasping and sputtering of a perfect life,
coming to the perfect end.
There's nothing I love more than a puff of smoke.
Exhaled from a throat as long and slender as the cigarette it burns from.
The gentle flick of the manicured fingers that dump the remains of the burning cigarette into the ashtray.
The graceful flip of her bleach blonde curls over her bare shoulder and the icy glare that emanates from the crystal blue eyes, lined in dark, deliberate, black strokes.
The compression and spread of her blood red lips as a beautiful voice sings gently the words written on the back of her favorite napkin.
---
A/N: The beginning of a new slash, I hope. I still have a lot of plot development to go through to get this story off the ground. Erm..thoughts, perhaps? doubt it.