Lost fic: Dancing Feet [Shannon/Boone, 300 words, PG]
Notes: For janie_tangerine at the luau, who wanted Hearts & Minds and barefoot. Shannon/Boone, rated PG, 300 words.
Dancing Feet
by eponine119
July 30, 2008
"Your feet are so ugly."
"So's your face," Shannon snapped back. Boone threw his head back and laughed. They both knew it wasn't true.
"Seriously, you should put some shoes on those things." He stood over her, staring down at her bare feet against the soft sand.
"They're dancing feet," she replied haughtily.
"They're huge," Boone continued his torment. He placed his foot (slim, pale, perfect) next to hers. They were roughly the same size, although his toes weren't twisted and tattered.
Shannon put her head down, thinking about nail polish. She'd been working on not crying over his insults. Or at least, not letting him see her cry. He probably knew when she put her head down. Sometimes she hated him so much, so so so much, but she couldn't help loving him.
Especially when he put his fingers lightly against the back of her neck, creating a smooth chill against her sun-warmed skin. "Show me your dancing feet," he said.
She lifted her head and looked up at him. Looked at him like he was crazy, but she let him take her hands in his and pull her up to stand near him, firming up his grip and beginning to waltz her around the beach.
Her father used to dance her around the living room.
She used to circle around in her bedroom, late at night with the door shut, with her eyes closed, pretending she was dancing with someone she loved. (Well…maybe she still did, sometimes.)
His chest was so hard against her cheek. She didn't ever want to lift her head.
After that, whenever the other girls at dance class lamented their poor feet, Shannon would just smile quietly to herself and not say a single word.
= end =
Dancing Feet
by eponine119
July 30, 2008
"Your feet are so ugly."
"So's your face," Shannon snapped back. Boone threw his head back and laughed. They both knew it wasn't true.
"Seriously, you should put some shoes on those things." He stood over her, staring down at her bare feet against the soft sand.
"They're dancing feet," she replied haughtily.
"They're huge," Boone continued his torment. He placed his foot (slim, pale, perfect) next to hers. They were roughly the same size, although his toes weren't twisted and tattered.
Shannon put her head down, thinking about nail polish. She'd been working on not crying over his insults. Or at least, not letting him see her cry. He probably knew when she put her head down. Sometimes she hated him so much, so so so much, but she couldn't help loving him.
Especially when he put his fingers lightly against the back of her neck, creating a smooth chill against her sun-warmed skin. "Show me your dancing feet," he said.
She lifted her head and looked up at him. Looked at him like he was crazy, but she let him take her hands in his and pull her up to stand near him, firming up his grip and beginning to waltz her around the beach.
Her father used to dance her around the living room.
She used to circle around in her bedroom, late at night with the door shut, with her eyes closed, pretending she was dancing with someone she loved. (Well…maybe she still did, sometimes.)
His chest was so hard against her cheek. She didn't ever want to lift her head.
After that, whenever the other girls at dance class lamented their poor feet, Shannon would just smile quietly to herself and not say a single word.
= end =