Not Blue
My second attempt at an Ami/Zoi ficlet. The theme which inspired this drabble is "Strings." It's titled Not Blue. Enjoy.
“Ami, you’re almost as bad as I am! Come on,” Zane said plaintively to the unresponsive bathroom door. He turned to seize the beach towels provided in the hotel room, muttering under his breath.
The door whined open behind him and he turned, expostulating: “Finally! For the love of-” His speech and neurological function ground to a halt as his eyes lit upon the young woman inching into the bedroom. She returned the gaze, red suffusing her cheeks.
“Minako picked it out,” she explained as if ashamed.
A white bikini top, dotted with green, embraced her torso, its daring neckline exposing more rich, creamy skin than he had ever hoped to dream she would show in public. His gaze traveled down her svelte figure, registering the nipped-in little waist and the green-flecked bikini bottom that gave way to slender legs.
Zane inhaled slowly, his mouth having suddenly gone dry.
“I shouldn’t wear this,” Ami said decisively. “Not at all my style.” It was, lamentably, true. Her bathing costumes were all one-pieces, creations he was certain his grandmother would have loved to borrow.
She looked questioningly at him. “What do you think?”
Before a very long line of fervent protests could issue from his mouth he stopped to think (a difficult process at the moment). He recalled the many testosterone-pumped males strewn along the hotel’s beachfront who lived to ogle anything remotely female. And Ami was certainly more than remotely female. His insanely jealous side howled at the thought of their eyes sliding over his fiancée as his own had.
“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed nobly. “You go and change into that lovely blue swimsuit of yours.”
“Zane, they’re all blue.”
“Well, the new one then,” he said, recovering admirably.
She nodded, surprised at his agreement. “Yes, I will, just give me a minute.” Her hands went up to the strings that held her top up as she turned to go back and change. “Oh, Zane could you loosen this knot for me? I tied it rather tightly.”
If his mouth had been dry before, he was now faced with death by asphyxiation as he felt it suddenly impossible to breathe. “Uh, okay, sure.” His hands fairly trembled as they journeyed to his fiancée’s soft, pale neck. His fingers settled on the smooth strings and even smoother skin and he felt her quiver underneath his touch. “Say, Ami?”
“Y-yes?” she managed.
“I don’t feel much up to swimming anymore. How about we stay here instead, huh?”
“Ami, you’re almost as bad as I am! Come on,” Zane said plaintively to the unresponsive bathroom door. He turned to seize the beach towels provided in the hotel room, muttering under his breath.
The door whined open behind him and he turned, expostulating: “Finally! For the love of-” His speech and neurological function ground to a halt as his eyes lit upon the young woman inching into the bedroom. She returned the gaze, red suffusing her cheeks.
“Minako picked it out,” she explained as if ashamed.
A white bikini top, dotted with green, embraced her torso, its daring neckline exposing more rich, creamy skin than he had ever hoped to dream she would show in public. His gaze traveled down her svelte figure, registering the nipped-in little waist and the green-flecked bikini bottom that gave way to slender legs.
Zane inhaled slowly, his mouth having suddenly gone dry.
“I shouldn’t wear this,” Ami said decisively. “Not at all my style.” It was, lamentably, true. Her bathing costumes were all one-pieces, creations he was certain his grandmother would have loved to borrow.
She looked questioningly at him. “What do you think?”
Before a very long line of fervent protests could issue from his mouth he stopped to think (a difficult process at the moment). He recalled the many testosterone-pumped males strewn along the hotel’s beachfront who lived to ogle anything remotely female. And Ami was certainly more than remotely female. His insanely jealous side howled at the thought of their eyes sliding over his fiancée as his own had.
“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed nobly. “You go and change into that lovely blue swimsuit of yours.”
“Zane, they’re all blue.”
“Well, the new one then,” he said, recovering admirably.
She nodded, surprised at his agreement. “Yes, I will, just give me a minute.” Her hands went up to the strings that held her top up as she turned to go back and change. “Oh, Zane could you loosen this knot for me? I tied it rather tightly.”
If his mouth had been dry before, he was now faced with death by asphyxiation as he felt it suddenly impossible to breathe. “Uh, okay, sure.” His hands fairly trembled as they journeyed to his fiancée’s soft, pale neck. His fingers settled on the smooth strings and even smoother skin and he felt her quiver underneath his touch. “Say, Ami?”
“Y-yes?” she managed.
“I don’t feel much up to swimming anymore. How about we stay here instead, huh?”