Fic: Untouched (Inside)
Title: Untouched
Author: Rinny
Characters: Danny/Rebecca
Words: 316
Summery: This crawled into my head on the way home and wanted to be written. And it’s wasn’t supposed to come out quite like this but…the muse practically wrote this one on her own.
He thinks about her all the time.
He runs his fingers through her hair and he wonders of He touched her like this. Or if He knotted his fist in her sleek strands and pulled until she cried.
He wonders how long she cried and at what point the tears stopped. Two months? Three? Six? Because they do stop. The horrors turn into routine and the tears didn’t mean anything to begin with.
Danny knows. He’s seen.
Before VCU he worked in Missing Children’s. He saw how the kids clung to their kidnappers. How they cried tears for the men and woman who’ve destroyed their lives. Turned them against their own parents, filled them with distrust and hatred. Made them do and see things that make Danny recoil.
And he wonders if Rebecca ever shed a tear for Him.
He thinks about the way she moves. Back arched, thighs straining, breasts thrust front and center. And he wonders if that’s how she learned it.
He wonders if it’s ingrained, like a dirty tattoo, in her muscle memory.
And he wonders if she knows that it is.
He counts the places on her body he knows He must have touched. Thighs and breast and mouth and ass.
He counts fifty-seven places that man touched.
Fifty-seven caresses he can’t make without wondering if she remembered.
But there are places He didn’t touch. A few scant inches of petal soft skin that are all his own.
Arch of her foot, dip of her spine, soft skin beneath her arm. And they’re his.
His because she wanted them to be.
Danny thinks about Rebecca all the time. He thinks about who she was and who she is and who she’ll be.
But mostly, he thinks about the places inside, her heard and her mind, and if they are places left untouched. And he wonders if he'll have them too.
Author: Rinny
Characters: Danny/Rebecca
Words: 316
Summery: This crawled into my head on the way home and wanted to be written. And it’s wasn’t supposed to come out quite like this but…the muse practically wrote this one on her own.
He thinks about her all the time.
He runs his fingers through her hair and he wonders of He touched her like this. Or if He knotted his fist in her sleek strands and pulled until she cried.
He wonders how long she cried and at what point the tears stopped. Two months? Three? Six? Because they do stop. The horrors turn into routine and the tears didn’t mean anything to begin with.
Danny knows. He’s seen.
Before VCU he worked in Missing Children’s. He saw how the kids clung to their kidnappers. How they cried tears for the men and woman who’ve destroyed their lives. Turned them against their own parents, filled them with distrust and hatred. Made them do and see things that make Danny recoil.
And he wonders if Rebecca ever shed a tear for Him.
He thinks about the way she moves. Back arched, thighs straining, breasts thrust front and center. And he wonders if that’s how she learned it.
He wonders if it’s ingrained, like a dirty tattoo, in her muscle memory.
And he wonders if she knows that it is.
He counts the places on her body he knows He must have touched. Thighs and breast and mouth and ass.
He counts fifty-seven places that man touched.
Fifty-seven caresses he can’t make without wondering if she remembered.
But there are places He didn’t touch. A few scant inches of petal soft skin that are all his own.
Arch of her foot, dip of her spine, soft skin beneath her arm. And they’re his.
His because she wanted them to be.
Danny thinks about Rebecca all the time. He thinks about who she was and who she is and who she’ll be.
But mostly, he thinks about the places inside, her heard and her mind, and if they are places left untouched. And he wonders if he'll have them too.