Brief response to FOL prompt 1.2
I have to go out of town again so I won't be able to participate in this weekly challenge, which sounds like fun. I did want to show my support, though, by writing up a short thing prompted by 1.2 ("hero").
Cav
For the fifth time - at the very least - Blair grasped the hand on her thigh and moved it back where it belonged.
"Eric . . . ," she warned.
He would sit back now, close his eyes, take a deep breath, and beg her to go out with him again tomorrow night. Blair knew the routine. Unfortunately, she already had plans for the next ten evenings - no, eleven (she had momentarily forgotten the cute Vice President of Investments she met at the Bank of America while Eric signed some trust papers). She would have to break it to him gently.
"Now, if-" She halted her letdown. Not only was his hand on her leg again, but he was attempting to slide it between her thighs. "Eric!" she snapped.
He pressed a lever and raised the console between them up and out of the way. Before she knew it, Blair was pressed against the door, with a slobbering oaf attempting to climb on top of her.
"Eric!" she tried again. "Stop it!"
She tried to shove him away, but the quarterback had sixty pounds on her. She turned her face to the side as he tried to kiss her.
"You’ve been comin’ on to me all night," he said, panting into her ear. "We’re not stopping now."
Panicked, Blair yelled, "I’ll tell my roommate!"
He grabbed the vee of her blouse and pulled on it, popping the first few buttons. "Tell her to wait her turn."
"My roommate is Jo Polniaczek!"
He froze, then drew back, turning around in the driver’s seat until he faced the windshield. "Hey, you know, just foolin’ around," he muttered.
Blair straightened in her seat, sliding her arms into her cashmere sweater and buttoning it up to the top. "Take me home," she said coldly.
She ignored his next attempt to apologize as well, and opened her own car door when he pulled up to the curb. She did not turn around as the car sped away from the house. Stepping through the door, Blair saw her roommate slouched against the telephone stand, scowling beautifully at the world, and stopped in her tracks.
After a moment, Jo turned toward her. "What?" she said suspiciously.
Blair ran up and threw her arms around her, pressing her face into Jo’s neck. "My hero . . . ."
Cav
For the fifth time - at the very least - Blair grasped the hand on her thigh and moved it back where it belonged.
"Eric . . . ," she warned.
He would sit back now, close his eyes, take a deep breath, and beg her to go out with him again tomorrow night. Blair knew the routine. Unfortunately, she already had plans for the next ten evenings - no, eleven (she had momentarily forgotten the cute Vice President of Investments she met at the Bank of America while Eric signed some trust papers). She would have to break it to him gently.
"Now, if-" She halted her letdown. Not only was his hand on her leg again, but he was attempting to slide it between her thighs. "Eric!" she snapped.
He pressed a lever and raised the console between them up and out of the way. Before she knew it, Blair was pressed against the door, with a slobbering oaf attempting to climb on top of her.
"Eric!" she tried again. "Stop it!"
She tried to shove him away, but the quarterback had sixty pounds on her. She turned her face to the side as he tried to kiss her.
"You’ve been comin’ on to me all night," he said, panting into her ear. "We’re not stopping now."
Panicked, Blair yelled, "I’ll tell my roommate!"
He grabbed the vee of her blouse and pulled on it, popping the first few buttons. "Tell her to wait her turn."
"My roommate is Jo Polniaczek!"
He froze, then drew back, turning around in the driver’s seat until he faced the windshield. "Hey, you know, just foolin’ around," he muttered.
Blair straightened in her seat, sliding her arms into her cashmere sweater and buttoning it up to the top. "Take me home," she said coldly.
She ignored his next attempt to apologize as well, and opened her own car door when he pulled up to the curb. She did not turn around as the car sped away from the house. Stepping through the door, Blair saw her roommate slouched against the telephone stand, scowling beautifully at the world, and stopped in her tracks.
After a moment, Jo turned toward her. "What?" she said suspiciously.
Blair ran up and threw her arms around her, pressing her face into Jo’s neck. "My hero . . . ."