Drabble Catch Up - Two for Tuesday
Slowly but surely I'm working through my drabble requests.
This one is for lyrstzha, who requested Angel/Wesley. It's set between Deep Down and Conviction. Hope you like!
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve given up on you
But you make such a beautiful wreck, you do
--- Shawn Mullins
Beautiful Wreck
The sulfuric stink of anger mingles with the undeniable scent of arousal, an unerring olfactory lead that draws Angel to the dark end of the bar. Leather stutters on leather, announcing his presence as he sits.
“Shouldn’t you be. . .prowling?”
Wes forms his words slowly, careful to annunciate in the way skilled drunkards do.
“You waste a lot of time on nothing, Wes”
Pale eyes glitter in the artificially dim light, flashes of ice and fire blaze through a film of fine scotch and less richly textured self-pity.
“I wasted my life on you, Angel. What does that make us?”
And for the lovely tkp who requested Cordelia, Angel and Baby!Connor, here it is!
Wish Fulfillment
“. . . denim trim brings out your blue eyes. You’re going to have your daddy’s taste in clothes with your mama’s color sense. . .”
It’s out of her mouth before she can breathe it back in. “My color sense,” Cordelia corrects breezily, as if it were a silly mistake. Cool hands sweep over her shoulders and rest heavily there, a gesture of comfort that brings nothing but a reminder of missed opportunity.
“Your mama . . .” Angel begins, as if he could make it so, but chokes back the rest as she turns to ice beneath his touch.
This one is for lyrstzha, who requested Angel/Wesley. It's set between Deep Down and Conviction. Hope you like!
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve given up on you
But you make such a beautiful wreck, you do
--- Shawn Mullins
Beautiful Wreck
The sulfuric stink of anger mingles with the undeniable scent of arousal, an unerring olfactory lead that draws Angel to the dark end of the bar. Leather stutters on leather, announcing his presence as he sits.
“Shouldn’t you be. . .prowling?”
Wes forms his words slowly, careful to annunciate in the way skilled drunkards do.
“You waste a lot of time on nothing, Wes”
Pale eyes glitter in the artificially dim light, flashes of ice and fire blaze through a film of fine scotch and less richly textured self-pity.
“I wasted my life on you, Angel. What does that make us?”
And for the lovely tkp who requested Cordelia, Angel and Baby!Connor, here it is!
Wish Fulfillment
“. . . denim trim brings out your blue eyes. You’re going to have your daddy’s taste in clothes with your mama’s color sense. . .”
It’s out of her mouth before she can breathe it back in. “My color sense,” Cordelia corrects breezily, as if it were a silly mistake. Cool hands sweep over her shoulders and rest heavily there, a gesture of comfort that brings nothing but a reminder of missed opportunity.
“Your mama . . .” Angel begins, as if he could make it so, but chokes back the rest as she turns to ice beneath his touch.