I'm alive and good and everything else positive (or trying to be, anyway.) So I want to attempt to write something, anything, and this is the best way I know to try/practice/whateverthehell
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Re: first thing i've written in forever, 1 line my ass.urkonstantine23February 28 2011, 05:40:23 UTC
“We’ve done worse.” And they have. This dance, this situation, it’s a repeated cycle, and it’s been going on for far too long. She never thought she’d be this person, but here she is, another night, another bar, another conversation that if she pulled all the words apart, would mean everything in the world to her with all the words they’re not saying right now.
He’s smirking like the cat that ate the canary because he’s a pervert and he’s picturing them, and if she wasn’t laughing at the proud look on his face, she’d be shrieking in outrage.
“We’ve had some good times.” He says in agreement, smirk still proud on his face. She becomes aware again that she couldn’t walk away now, even if she wanted to.
She becomes fixated on the way his fingers fit with hers, and hands so big should not look so good with hands so tiny.
She wonders what they’d look like sliding a ring on her finger, and that’s when the words come out.
“I’m single.”
He lets out a woosh of air, and keeps looking at her to make sure she’s not joking, not about to burst into laughter because of the look on his face, so hopeful, yet so uncertain.
She nods again. He nods back at her, and she wants to laugh at how ridiculous this is.
“Fuckin’ a.” He’s pulling her closer, and she wants to believe it’s a positive response.
“Fuckin’ finally.” he says as he gets off his bar stool and starts tugging her towards the door. She’s laughing and waving goodbye to bartender Ben as Puck leads her into the cold New York night air.
“Still promise?’ she asks, ‘’Cause I’m kinda your problem, now.”
He laughs as he holds her hand tighter, leaning down to kiss her.
He’s smirking like the cat that ate the canary because he’s a pervert and he’s picturing them, and if she wasn’t laughing at the proud look on his face, she’d be shrieking in outrage.
“We’ve had some good times.” He says in agreement, smirk still proud on his face. She becomes aware again that she couldn’t walk away now, even if she wanted to.
She becomes fixated on the way his fingers fit with hers, and hands so big should not look so good with hands so tiny.
She wonders what they’d look like sliding a ring on her finger, and that’s when the words come out.
“I’m single.”
He lets out a woosh of air, and keeps looking at her to make sure she’s not joking, not about to burst into laughter because of the look on his face, so hopeful, yet so uncertain.
She nods again. He nods back at her, and she wants to laugh at how ridiculous this is.
“Fuckin’ a.” He’s pulling her closer, and she wants to believe it’s a positive response.
“Fuckin’ finally.” he says as he gets off his bar stool and starts tugging her towards the door. She’s laughing and waving goodbye to bartender Ben as Puck leads her into the cold New York night air.
“Still promise?’ she asks, ‘’Cause I’m kinda your problem, now.”
He laughs as he holds her hand tighter, leaning down to kiss her.
“Promise.”
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Prompt me. And what are your plans for tomorrow night?
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I did prompt you. Tomorrow, I have no plans. You/Me/Movies?
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MSN?
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