It's 5 am ...
It's 5am and I have yet to go to sleep. Why is this remarkable enough to write in a journal that I have long ignored? I would have to say that it has a lot to do with the fact that I still canna sleep worth shit. So, have been listening to loads of mush, talking to meself and fervently wishing that my family would stay out of my petty trials and tribulations. But, since I have a decidely froggy/fenian fam, this will never, ever be the case. Have I mentioned that my ex's son was born on my birthday?
So, have turned a sentimental way.
I give you a most random rambling. Have it on LadyTory 's authority that I should turn this into a most flangsty Lucius/Bellatrix sort of ficlet. I could, I have been sorely tempted, however, am having trouble writing it due to the lack of OCs. Yes, no MarySues. Bugger.
^^
She sighed and let herself momentarily sink deeper into his swaying embrace. For once, the need to keep feeling walled up and secured from all just fell away. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to savour it and commit it to her memory, for in a moment that is all that it would be a memory. All she wanted or needed was to just feel him. Feel his arms around her, one hand gingerly clasping her hip, the sensation that the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed made against her chest. She knew that this was temporary, just a fleeting moment of safe harbour and that in a few measures of music it would all end. In less than a minute, she would be left with just the memory of his body against her own and the ghost of what should have been. Oddly, she found no pain in this realisation, just bittersweet comfort. However, in this moment, she could still feel his heartbeat, breathe in his impossibly clean scent and take pleasure in feeling his strong frame moving against hers. Just for a moment more…
As the last musical notes died away, she felt his hands move to grip her shoulders and she stepped away. When she lifted her face to look at him, the mask that she always wore once again effortlessly graced her face. She knew that her expression held all of the affection and camaraderie that she felt for him and none of the love. This was hers alone and she would not share it with anyone, not even him, for all the gold in Gringotts’s. Her impish smile wavered only once. A brief shadow passed through his eyes and she felt a spike of fear that he might have seen through her in that last moment.
He kept his hands around her upper arms while a thumb made small movements against the fabric of her sleeve. He seemed loathe to relinquish his physical hold on her and she fought the urge to tell him that he shouldn’t worry, for his hold on her went far beyond the physical. She lifted a hand to his face and gave his cheek a small pat, winked at him, announced that she was utterly parched and set off for the bar, asking him over her shoulder if he wanted one too yet not waiting for his answer.
She really needed that drink. Something that would give her a valid excuse to grimace and let her eyes water. Something that burned like the devil on the way down … Ogden’s Special Reserve, a double of it, yes, that would fit the bill. So she ordered her poison and downed it as in two gulps and ordered a second. This one she would savour. The deep amber, smoking liquid swirled in her glass, moving in hypnotic whirls, drawing her eyes in. But inward was not the way that she wanted to look at the moment, for all that she would find there was the memory of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens.
^^
Yep, that's it for the moment.
So, have turned a sentimental way.
I give you a most random rambling. Have it on LadyTory 's authority that I should turn this into a most flangsty Lucius/Bellatrix sort of ficlet. I could, I have been sorely tempted, however, am having trouble writing it due to the lack of OCs. Yes, no MarySues. Bugger.
^^
She sighed and let herself momentarily sink deeper into his swaying embrace. For once, the need to keep feeling walled up and secured from all just fell away. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to savour it and commit it to her memory, for in a moment that is all that it would be a memory. All she wanted or needed was to just feel him. Feel his arms around her, one hand gingerly clasping her hip, the sensation that the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed made against her chest. She knew that this was temporary, just a fleeting moment of safe harbour and that in a few measures of music it would all end. In less than a minute, she would be left with just the memory of his body against her own and the ghost of what should have been. Oddly, she found no pain in this realisation, just bittersweet comfort. However, in this moment, she could still feel his heartbeat, breathe in his impossibly clean scent and take pleasure in feeling his strong frame moving against hers. Just for a moment more…
As the last musical notes died away, she felt his hands move to grip her shoulders and she stepped away. When she lifted her face to look at him, the mask that she always wore once again effortlessly graced her face. She knew that her expression held all of the affection and camaraderie that she felt for him and none of the love. This was hers alone and she would not share it with anyone, not even him, for all the gold in Gringotts’s. Her impish smile wavered only once. A brief shadow passed through his eyes and she felt a spike of fear that he might have seen through her in that last moment.
He kept his hands around her upper arms while a thumb made small movements against the fabric of her sleeve. He seemed loathe to relinquish his physical hold on her and she fought the urge to tell him that he shouldn’t worry, for his hold on her went far beyond the physical. She lifted a hand to his face and gave his cheek a small pat, winked at him, announced that she was utterly parched and set off for the bar, asking him over her shoulder if he wanted one too yet not waiting for his answer.
She really needed that drink. Something that would give her a valid excuse to grimace and let her eyes water. Something that burned like the devil on the way down … Ogden’s Special Reserve, a double of it, yes, that would fit the bill. So she ordered her poison and downed it as in two gulps and ordered a second. This one she would savour. The deep amber, smoking liquid swirled in her glass, moving in hypnotic whirls, drawing her eyes in. But inward was not the way that she wanted to look at the moment, for all that she would find there was the memory of what-ifs and what-could-have-beens.
^^
Yep, that's it for the moment.