Contagious
Title: Contagious
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Rosalie/Leah
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 213
Summary: Boundaries don’t exist, Leah thinks. Everything just stretches on and on, bleeding together like the pinpricked thumbs of two children.
Author’s Notes: Written for ivynights's prompt the only sane ones in this mad, mad world at the Twilight Uncanon Drabble-a-thon take 2, originally posted here. There was a word limit of 200, so this is the "extended" version. You probably know I'm pretty anti-smoking, but I couldn't get this scene out of my head.
Contagious
There are no straight lines in the woods. Disjointed angles and soft turns, curves, tangles and circles. No lines. Nothing to cross or defy except nature itself, the way the wind hums or the trees watch them.
Boundaries don’t exist, Leah thinks. Everything just stretches on and on, bleeding together like the pinpricked thumbs of two children.
“Smoking kills, you know,” Rosalie remarks. Blonde, hot - whatever. Sometimes Leah thinks Rosalie’s the only one of them with a brain. That’s why they come out here; insanity is contagious, and they don’t want it.
Leah leans back into the tree they’re sitting against, adjusting her legs until she’s straddling the roots. Then she takes a long, deliberate drag from her cigarette. Her belated exhalation sends smoke curling through cracks in the bark above her.
“Well, so do I,” she says dryly, “and I still get dragged around to all the fucking parties.”
“That must be nice.” Leah can’t see her, but she can imagine her arched brow, the sarcastic quirk of her full lips.
“See for yourself.”
As Rosalie takes the cigarette, their fingers touch, and it’s hot on cold on hot, temperature confusion. Leah shivers, closes her eyes, digs her heels into the ground.
Insanity is contagious. She won’t let it find them here.
Fandom: Twilight
Pairing: Rosalie/Leah
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 213
Summary: Boundaries don’t exist, Leah thinks. Everything just stretches on and on, bleeding together like the pinpricked thumbs of two children.
Author’s Notes: Written for ivynights's prompt the only sane ones in this mad, mad world at the Twilight Uncanon Drabble-a-thon take 2, originally posted here. There was a word limit of 200, so this is the "extended" version. You probably know I'm pretty anti-smoking, but I couldn't get this scene out of my head.
Contagious
There are no straight lines in the woods. Disjointed angles and soft turns, curves, tangles and circles. No lines. Nothing to cross or defy except nature itself, the way the wind hums or the trees watch them.
Boundaries don’t exist, Leah thinks. Everything just stretches on and on, bleeding together like the pinpricked thumbs of two children.
“Smoking kills, you know,” Rosalie remarks. Blonde, hot - whatever. Sometimes Leah thinks Rosalie’s the only one of them with a brain. That’s why they come out here; insanity is contagious, and they don’t want it.
Leah leans back into the tree they’re sitting against, adjusting her legs until she’s straddling the roots. Then she takes a long, deliberate drag from her cigarette. Her belated exhalation sends smoke curling through cracks in the bark above her.
“Well, so do I,” she says dryly, “and I still get dragged around to all the fucking parties.”
“That must be nice.” Leah can’t see her, but she can imagine her arched brow, the sarcastic quirk of her full lips.
“See for yourself.”
As Rosalie takes the cigarette, their fingers touch, and it’s hot on cold on hot, temperature confusion. Leah shivers, closes her eyes, digs her heels into the ground.
Insanity is contagious. She won’t let it find them here.