a drabble, ldf style
alright... so you all know that a drabble is completely beyond me. i mean, what can i say in 100 words? since i seem to be having a moment of smut blockage (who'da thunk it?), i decided to try something different. something short, for me, and written on the spot. i got three qualifiers from Daz; a location, a building and a time of day. she picked Long Island, a beach house and night. and this is what i came up with. i spent roughly an hour and a half writing this. hope you all enjoy.
Title: The Storm
Fandom: original
Pairing: a male and female from my imagination
Rating: adult, some swear words and sex.
Chapter Count: one
Word Count: 3,102
Completed: Yes
Description: a clandestine meeting between a couple brings dire consequences as a deal is shattered and a new one is made.
if you like this and want to offer up a few prompts, i'll try to see what i can come up with. i enjoy the challenge and would like to exercise my brain on something that doesn't involve one of my fics. *huggles Daz* thanks for the help, sweetie.
The lights flickered as a shockwave rocked the small wooden structure. The local stations had said there was a storm moving in, but they hadn't said anything about it being something like this. Thunder rumbled low in the sky, rattling the windows in their casings. Before closing the shutters against the howling winds that beat at the house, wicked forks of lightning had speared across the sky. Sunset had only occurred an hour ago, but it was dark as midnight out there.
Shea huddled into the blankets she'd brought down with her from the city. She always came out here this time of the year. Always. She had to. She was driven to it, forced by emotions beyond her control. And every year, she swore she wouldn't come back. Promised herself that she'd hide away in her safe little apartment in the city and pretend that this place didn't exist. And yet, every year, she found herself hiding away in this God forsaken little hole.
Because she knew he'd come.
It was their place, their one and only hide away. Theirs and theirs alone. No one else had ever come here. They'd refused to share it with anyone. It was really too small to share with anyone. It was the only two story dwelling on the beach, but it was still small. The lower level had a kitchen, a dining area and a living room. Upstairs was the loft bedroom and a bathroom. No room to entertain guests for longer than a few short hours. No place for guests to sleep. It was a place of memories, of freedom and of confinement.
Thunder shook the walls again. Shea threw her hands up over her ears, covered them and squeezed her eyes shut. She was afraid, scared of the storm. Scared of what was to come. Scared of herself and her own cowardice. She should have sold the place off long ago. Should have let it go. Should have burnt it down and purged herself of the remnants of a life long lost.
The door struggled against its hinges and the thick wooden bar that held it closed. The wind wanted to shove it wide and steal in, throw everything into disarray. It didn't know that everything was already lost to chaos. Another deafening crack of thunder cut the power completely. Shaking hands reached for the matches on the table. She struck the match in the dark, far too much practice behind her to allow such a thing to happen without problems. The flame sprang to life slowly, a weak and mellow golden color. As soon as she touched the tip to the wick of the candle, it grew and expanded. She closed the door on the lantern and watched as the flame brightened even further. She shook out the match and tossed it carelessly into the ashtray.
Slowly, so slowly that even a snail could out pace it, the sounds of the storm died around her. Oh, it still blew on the other side of the door. It wasn't done yet. It was hungry, wanted to taste something. Wanted her. For the moment, she was safe here, locked away from the world inside of the small house. Nothing could touch her here. The storm would never find her unless she opened the door wide. She wanted to do nothing more than that.
But he wouldn't let her.
Soft footfalls sounded in the loft. Shea let out her breath and carefully uncurled herself from the couch. The blanket fell into a soft heap on the floor. Hefting up the heavy lantern with one hand, she slowly crossed the floor to the stairs. He was moving around up there in the dark, calling for her without words. Her feet were bare, silent on the wooden floor. But she was sure he knew she was coming. He always knew.
Her heart pounded in her chest, sounding loud in the silence around her. It beat in time with her steps, thumping each time she set a foot upon one of the wooden steps. The light flowed ahead of her, eagerly seeking out the shadows and eating them. But there were always shadows. They crowded behind her on the stairs, pushing her further and further up them until she stood on the top one. It was so dark and chill up here. And she could hear his breath now as it slid in and out of his nose.
"Come to me, Shea," he whispered, voice rich and liquid as it slithered out of the shadows toward her. She was helpless against it, caught up by the silken threads as it wound itself around her. Drew her closer. Stroked her skin beneath her clothes. God, she wanted him. She wanted to run. But she couldn't. All she could do was put one foot before the other until she stood beside the bed. He was already there. Already naked. Already hard. For her.
"Please, Jonathan," she began to protest. His knowing smile halted her words. There was a look in his golden eyes that suggested he knew what she'd been about to say. He sat up, brought a knee up, laid his arm across it and held his hand out to her.
"Come to me, Shea," he repeated. His voice tightened its hold on her and dragged her down onto the bed. Her hand set the lantern on the table beside the bed even though she didn't tell it to. It was always this way with him. Always.
She watched as tanned hands sought out the buttons on her blouse and quickly undid them. The garment was tossed aside, as was the bra she wore beneath it. He rid her of her jeans and panties as quickly as he was able. His skin was hot against hers as he settled himself over her, his hands reaching for her thighs. He jerked them open sharply, pressed them wide even as he slid himself into her.
She was only truly alive when they were joined like this, his body feasting upon hers. Her hands slid into the softness of his curly black hair. Her body raised up to join with his as he fucked her. The first time, he fucked her. The rest of the night, he would make love to her until she'd cry and fall asleep in his arms. She clung to him, held him close and offered herself up to him. He took it, as was his due, and drove her closer and closer to the point of no return. "Jonathan. Oh God, Jonathan. Don't stop. Harder. More. Please. I need..." her voice broke and he chuckled.
"You need what, beloved Shea? You need me? I'm yours, my darling. You know that? You need my cock. That's yours, as well. It has always been so. I was made for you. Don't tell me that you don't want this. Not the way your body hungers for mine. I know what you want and need. I know what you desire. Let me give it to you." His voice was like a thief, picking the locks around her walls of protection so that he could slip in and take what he wanted. She knew what he wanted. The price was too high.
But she wasn't able to stop him.
Tears slid down her cheeks as he thrust harder, faster. Deeper. It felt as if he'd found her very soul. Shea cried out as she climaxed, body quivering around his. She was lost now. There would be no stopping him. It was all he ever needed to sweep over her and steal every last bit of her will. His hips plunged so hard and fast that she was going to be sore for days to come. And she didn't care. She was flying with him, caught up in his embrace and swept away on a tide of emotion she hadn't felt in a year.
She was dead without him. They both knew it. It drove her to beg for more, to plead with him to give her everything she needed and desired. He gave it, his chuckles pushing her ever closer to that invisible edge. The one he'd never let her cross. He never faltered, never failed. Never stopped fucking. Didn't stop moving within her until she was weeping in pain and limp beneath him.
Even though her body begged for more, she merely lay on the bed and whimpered. Only then did he settle himself more firmly over her and kiss the tears away. His hands stroked at her flesh and teased skin gone past sensitive and into painful. His hips shifted every now and again, drawing shivers up her spine. He whispered soothing words into her ears.
But they weren't enough anymore. She cried all the harder until he drew back to look down at her. The gold had fled his eyes, leaving them a warm honey brown. His hands touched her cheeks. "Shea, my sweet. Why do you cry?"
"I can't do this anymore, Jonathan. I'm so tired. So cold. So... empty," she whispered up to him. He frowned at that and shook his head
"You can't mean it, my sweet. I won't let you go."
"I need more, Jonathan. I need something to live for," she sobbed. "I miss you so much. I wish you'd come back."
"You know that isn't to be, Shea. You're merely depressed. You've been through this before. You'll survive. You always do," he assured her. Confusion laced his words, shone on his face. She shook her head.
"It won't be okay. Not any more. I'm tired of living, Jonathan."
"You made a deal with me, Shea. There is no going back on it now," he whispered, anger stealing into his words and his tone. She shuddered and felt fresh tears prick her eyes.
"I can't do it any more. I want out. I want to die," she told him. He fell silent, stared at her until she tried to shrink back into the bedding. He was so angry with her. And then he was moving again, driving himself into her body so hard that she thought he'd break her. There was nothing she could do to stop him. She could only hold on and cry, try to sort through the physical and the mental pain.
"You won't leave me, Shea. I won't let you. We made a deal!" he snarled at her. "Your love for your life. One night a year for the rest of your unnatural days!"
"I know, Jonathan. I'm sorry. I can't do it. Not any more. I didn't know what I was asking for when I made the deal. My family is all dead. All of it. I have no one. I should have died with the rest of the passengers on the boat when it hit the rocks and sank. I should have drowned. Why did you save me? Why me and no one else?"
"Because I loved you from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I offered you life in return for this. For a night of passion beyond your wildest knowing. No mortal man can ever give you this." His hips moved slowly, in small circles that sent jolts of pleasure spiraling through her. Shea gasped, her hips seeking out more from him even though she didn't want them to.
"I'm alone here, Jonathan. One night isn't enough anymore. Please. I need something to live for. Or I need to be allowed to die," she begged, body betraying her to him by its wanton need.
"A baby, Shea? I could never curse a child of mine to such a life as mortals life," he whispered, leaning down to lick a line of fire up the side of her throat. It brought a sob to the surface and she found the strength and determination she'd never had before. She shoved hard, pushed him off of her. She rolled from the bed and ran.
"Shea! We had a deal!" his voice thundered after her as she stumbled down the stairs. She nearly fell more than once and didn't care. She had to get away. The deal had been made here. in this hut, all those centuries ago. It could be broken here. Now.
Memory helped her pick her way across the floor until she was at the door. The heavy wooden bar didn't want to give up its hold on the door and she tore her fingers in the attempt to make it move. Strength surged and she heaved the beam out of the way, let it fall to the floor with a dull thud. The wind whipped the wooden panel open and filled her ears with the furious howling of the storm.
"Shea!" Jonathan's voice followed her out into the night, rang in the trembling thunder as the earth shook around her. The wind caught her, tried to drag her back toward the house. She fought it, eyes searching wildly for...
She didn't know what she was looking for. It was like that night, all those many years ago, when everyone on her ship had died. The storm that night had been wicked and wild. It had tossed the fragile wooden vessel up onto the rocks like a toy. The sound of the hull splintering was loud in her ears, the crack echoing through the night like gun shot. Screams bubbled up around her and the sound of water rushing up over her head filled her ears until she could no longer hear the storm, could no longer hear Jonathan's frantic cries.
Shea staggered across the sand, sharp rocks cutting into her feet. Salt stung her face, the wind driving sheets of rain at her as if trying to force her back. She fought it, pushed her way forward until the cold, chill fingers of the ocean ran up over her feet and told her which way to go. She followed after the laughing water, stumbled to her hands and knees in the surf. A wave slammed over her head and pulled back, leaving her gasping for air and choking on her own hair.
The storm had reached its peak, a fury of nature that tried to push and pull her back toward the shore. Back to Jonathan and the life she hated. Back to nothing. Shea got to her feet and ran until she was up to her knees in water. She pushed deeper and deeper into the water until it touched her thighs, her hips, her breasts. She kept going, kept moving. Water lapped at her chin.
"Shea! Don't! Come back!" Jonathan's voice filled the night, blotting out the storm that raged around her. Calm settled over her, the knowledge that she knew she was doing the right thing filling her with warmth in the frigid water. She pressed forward. "Shea! For the love of God! Please come back to me, my sweet! I love you!"
The tears flowed again. Because she could feel the truth of his words in her heart, a warmth spreading through her so rapidly that she barely understood. And she knew. And it was too late. "Jonathan?" she choked as salt water filled her mouth. "I love you, too."
She never had been alone. He'd always been with her. And she was throwing it away. She turned, tried to figure out where land was. Tried to find her way back to him. But the ocean wouldn't be denied its prize a second time. A current reached for her, coiled around her ankle and dragged her under. Water rushed into her nose and mouth, trying to find its way into her lungs. Shea fought, tried to find the surface. But it was too dark, the sea too determined.
And she was too tired.
She sank into the depths of the water, dragged toward the deepest parts of the ocean. The salt stung the sensitive tissues of her nose, burned her eyes, forcing her to close them. She could still hear Jonathan screaming her name over the thunder of the waves overhead. Over the raging storm. Or she thought she heard him. She opened her eyes, saw a flash of gold in the liquid darkness and fell deeper into the shadows.
Her last thoughts were of him....
~*~
Death came to her with a confusing mix of feelings. Softness beneath her back and under her head, warmth cocooning her body, limbs that felt heavy as lead. And the gentle touch of a hand stroking her cheek. Shea opened her eyes and found herself staring at the familiar ceiling of the beach house's loft bedroom. She tried to move and couldn't. She was so tired. The hand on her cheek pressed her down into the bed. "Don't move, Shea. Just relax. You're safe now."
"Jonathan?" she croaked. He smiled and she saw that his eyes were red. As if he'd been crying. "How?"
"Did you think you'd be rid of me so easily, my sweet? I'm a god of the sea. You were never in danger. But I had to know for sure."
"Know what?"
"I had to know that you loved me. Other wise we would have kept meeting here for all of eternity and you'd never find what you wanted most," his voice was back to silk and it wound around her once more, drew her back toward sleep. She tried to ask him what he meant. Nothing came out but a faint squeak. "I love you, my sweet. I have, since I first saw you in the water all those many years ago. Dressed in heavy woolen skirts that were dragging you down. I had to have you. But you were human, I wasn't. I couldn't keep you as I wanted. There are rules that even gods dare not break. You died tonight, my sweet."
She blinked heavily, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Her brain was slowly turning to mush and nothing was forth coming.
"You had to die before I could save you. You had to give up what you'd foolishly asked for all those years ago. And now a new life begins. A truly immortal life at my side. Now rest, my love. You need it. Our child needs it."
Had she heard him right? A child? His child? And a life with him? Hope swelled in her breast for the first time in a century, filled her with its brilliance. And she sank happily into the darkness of sleep behind it.
He was going to be there when she woke.
wanna catch up on all my stuff? check this link out. its got everything! The Ultimate ldf Fic Index