(no subject)
Title: Size Matters
Prompt: First Times
Characters: Beckett
Rating: PG
Word Count: 279
Author Notes: My first shot at Beckett through first person perspective. I know first person can be really cliche and trite, but... tough. I felt like doing it.
Apologies for the delayed post, but I was visiting some family in Dorset from Saturday, with no internet connection (‘twas hell, HELL I tells ya!)
Full credit to Telera , who unconsciously inspired this. Read her fic 'Chances', 'tis marvelous. I must have read it, stored lines in my head, then forgot >.< Sorry, love!
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I was 16 the first time I tried to kiss a girl. A Miss Natasha Steward, the beautiful redhead who lived in the manor beside mine in England. When she realised I was standing on my tip-toes to reach her lips, she started to laugh.
I was growing into a fine, sophisticated young man, yet my size had been a plaguing worry on my mind for years. The stupid girl had hit a nerve, quite possibly the only weakness I portray. Her mirth soon halted however, when the point of my stiletto pushed against her throat.
I admit now that I was unsure of what I was doing at the time, having never threatened a woman before, but the anger had blurred my vision fiery red. My hands shook with fury, jerking the blade and slicing a thin crimson line across her cheek. I didn’t hurt her too badly, but she still shed a river of tears, fleeing back to her estate grasping her bleeding face.
Thankfully, she never told her father what I had done, my mother informing me the next day that Natasha had snagged her cheek on a rose shrub picking the prickly flowers. Perhaps she was afraid I would return and cut her even more, or perchance was ashamed that a person a good foot shorter than her had wounded her ego so.
No matter. Nobody mentions my size anymore, I make sure of that. I can be twice as cruel as a six foot tall giant, just as strong as someone double my width. Any taunts now fall on deaf ears, a swift backhand their reply.
After all, good things come in small packages.
Prompt: First Times
Characters: Beckett
Rating: PG
Word Count: 279
Author Notes: My first shot at Beckett through first person perspective. I know first person can be really cliche and trite, but... tough. I felt like doing it.
Apologies for the delayed post, but I was visiting some family in Dorset from Saturday, with no internet connection (‘twas hell, HELL I tells ya!)
Full credit to Telera , who unconsciously inspired this. Read her fic 'Chances', 'tis marvelous. I must have read it, stored lines in my head, then forgot >.< Sorry, love!
----
I was 16 the first time I tried to kiss a girl. A Miss Natasha Steward, the beautiful redhead who lived in the manor beside mine in England. When she realised I was standing on my tip-toes to reach her lips, she started to laugh.
I was growing into a fine, sophisticated young man, yet my size had been a plaguing worry on my mind for years. The stupid girl had hit a nerve, quite possibly the only weakness I portray. Her mirth soon halted however, when the point of my stiletto pushed against her throat.
I admit now that I was unsure of what I was doing at the time, having never threatened a woman before, but the anger had blurred my vision fiery red. My hands shook with fury, jerking the blade and slicing a thin crimson line across her cheek. I didn’t hurt her too badly, but she still shed a river of tears, fleeing back to her estate grasping her bleeding face.
Thankfully, she never told her father what I had done, my mother informing me the next day that Natasha had snagged her cheek on a rose shrub picking the prickly flowers. Perhaps she was afraid I would return and cut her even more, or perchance was ashamed that a person a good foot shorter than her had wounded her ego so.
No matter. Nobody mentions my size anymore, I make sure of that. I can be twice as cruel as a six foot tall giant, just as strong as someone double my width. Any taunts now fall on deaf ears, a swift backhand their reply.
After all, good things come in small packages.