you'd be a work of art [lost]
Title: you'd be a work of art
Fandom: LOST
Summary: Cindy knows she's treading on foreign territory.
Pairing: Ben/Cindy
Rating: R
Notes: I told cloudytea she wouldn't like this. And we all know she won't.
Cindy knows she's treading on foreign territory. Between the little yellow houses and the cold coffee in her hand, she can't even remember where she was supposed to begin. A thanks, a curse, nothing comes out. Ben is patient, sitting across from her, hands still as stone on the table, while her own tremble as she fumbles over why she's come here to begin with.
Repairs. Hugo wants us to make repairs to the temple. Ben nods, taking a deliberate sip from his mug. I don't have enough people, Ben. They're gone or...or dead. She sets her cup down and looks at him. The point is - I need to borrow some of your people.
They're not mine. He stands, taking her mug and returning it to the sink. Leaning against the counter, he looks at her. They're Hugo's. And if he wants you to repair the temple, then you should have as much help as you need. I'll send ten more men tomorrow. Cindy stands, placing a grateful hand on his shoulder. A curt nod, and the meeting is over. But she isn't ready to leave. The temple is loud with fights and shouting. The men are drinking too much, the women crying to much. The children are so silent - it terrifies her.
She needs to be away, just for now. Emma can take care of herself and Zach. She asks for a place to sleep for the night. And he gives it to her, without thinking. The other room in the house. Never the one he once lived in (too many memories, she knows this). This room is plain. The sheets are white, the walls are white. Only a single blue pillow adds any color. And when she sees it, it explodes in the room. Thank you. Another nod. He's gone before she can say anything else. Bitter, she thinks. And alone. There's a chill in her loose garmets she can't quite get rid of.
It's loneliness, and she's just desperate enough to do the insane.
Ben starts when she crawls between his sheets, slipping into the crook of his arm not so easily. They're an odd fit. Nothing about it feels right. But he lets her do what she needs and when the moment is right, she lowers herself carefully, slipping him inside her. A cry and a groan and then silence. He's a patient lover, hands gentle and awkward on her hips, eyes half-closed. She comes with a small cry and he turns her over, pulling out quickly and finishing roughly.
Then he sends her away. Sleep and leave. I'll send ten men in the morning. Burned and embarassed, she leaves, an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sleep doesn't settle and when the sun rises, she leaves immediately. Just as he promised, ten men arrive a little after she does.
She couldn't make a liar out of him if she tried.
Fandom: LOST
Summary: Cindy knows she's treading on foreign territory.
Pairing: Ben/Cindy
Rating: R
Notes: I told cloudytea she wouldn't like this. And we all know she won't.
Cindy knows she's treading on foreign territory. Between the little yellow houses and the cold coffee in her hand, she can't even remember where she was supposed to begin. A thanks, a curse, nothing comes out. Ben is patient, sitting across from her, hands still as stone on the table, while her own tremble as she fumbles over why she's come here to begin with.
Repairs. Hugo wants us to make repairs to the temple. Ben nods, taking a deliberate sip from his mug. I don't have enough people, Ben. They're gone or...or dead. She sets her cup down and looks at him. The point is - I need to borrow some of your people.
They're not mine. He stands, taking her mug and returning it to the sink. Leaning against the counter, he looks at her. They're Hugo's. And if he wants you to repair the temple, then you should have as much help as you need. I'll send ten more men tomorrow. Cindy stands, placing a grateful hand on his shoulder. A curt nod, and the meeting is over. But she isn't ready to leave. The temple is loud with fights and shouting. The men are drinking too much, the women crying to much. The children are so silent - it terrifies her.
She needs to be away, just for now. Emma can take care of herself and Zach. She asks for a place to sleep for the night. And he gives it to her, without thinking. The other room in the house. Never the one he once lived in (too many memories, she knows this). This room is plain. The sheets are white, the walls are white. Only a single blue pillow adds any color. And when she sees it, it explodes in the room. Thank you. Another nod. He's gone before she can say anything else. Bitter, she thinks. And alone. There's a chill in her loose garmets she can't quite get rid of.
It's loneliness, and she's just desperate enough to do the insane.
Ben starts when she crawls between his sheets, slipping into the crook of his arm not so easily. They're an odd fit. Nothing about it feels right. But he lets her do what she needs and when the moment is right, she lowers herself carefully, slipping him inside her. A cry and a groan and then silence. He's a patient lover, hands gentle and awkward on her hips, eyes half-closed. She comes with a small cry and he turns her over, pulling out quickly and finishing roughly.
Then he sends her away. Sleep and leave. I'll send ten men in the morning. Burned and embarassed, she leaves, an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. Sleep doesn't settle and when the sun rises, she leaves immediately. Just as he promised, ten men arrive a little after she does.
She couldn't make a liar out of him if she tried.