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Pear #3. Sugar & Spice with Cookie Crumbs and a Cherry
Story : knights
Rating : R
Timeframe : N/A
Word Count : 802 (11 Pocky Chain)
Cherry for the format. Hopefully the last one explains all of the others.
Cookie Crumbs for #'s 9 & 10 - assorted quotes from other pieces.
Gold Medal for Team Rainbow Brains for the Pocky Chain Challenge.
"On your left!" Farran called.
Rune whirled round just in time to see the demon bearing down on him, its toothy jaw spread wide, erupt in flames.
Lyssa rose up behind it, breathing hard, hair plastered to her brow with sweat and gloves singed and smoking. She was grinning ear to ear. "Got it," she said.
*****
"Must you treat every little scratch a matter of life and death?"
"I let you walk home on that and you just might make it one." Rune turned the injured leg over, picked a bit of debris from the cut, and with a quick, easy burst, fused the flesh shut. Lyssa retracted the mended limb with a snort.
"Honestly, Lyss," he said, with a slow shake of his head as she righted herself, "I wouldn't like to see what you'd do without me."
*****
It’s hard to tell at times where one leaves off and the other begins. Four groping hands, two sets of roaming lips, bodies entwined in an age old dance beneath the moonlight. Skin glistening, hearts pounding. Rune nuzzles against her neck, and she curls a leg around his back. Every motion answered with a counter motion. Every breath a shared endeavor. A volley of names and cries as they writhe against the sheets, a chorus of trembling sighs as they wind to a close.
*****
Curled atop her sleeping roll, knees to chest, Lyssa wriggled her toes down into soft cotton folds. The campfire crackled cheerfully. Ski snored on the far side. The contents of the box beside her had been reduced to a smattering of crumbs too small to be bothered with and the crusty bits of frosting that clung to the sides.
She unfolded and appraised, again, the bit of paper she'd found beneath the cookies. Happy birthday, Lyss. At least she reckoned that's what the heavy, splotchy scrawl was intended to say. There was no mistaking the 'I love you' beneath it.
*****
"Would it kill you to cover up a bit?"
"No."
"So-"
"Try and make me and it might kill you."
*****
“Always have to have the last word, don’t you?”
“Only when I know I’m right.”
“Oh. Oh? So, you’re always right, then?”
“Often enough.”
“Well, not this time…What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Damn right, nothing. ‘Cause I’m right…Rune?”
“Nothing.”
*****
Nothing’s ever felt quite so much like home. Nestled under his arm, curled up on the stoop. No one to see them but a bunch of flowers, and she’s never known plants to talk.
She doesn’t have to force her way into his heart, doesn’t have to shout and posture and put herself in the spotlight to remind him that she’s there. She doesn’t have to question when she pushes him whether he’ll push back.
Like the blooms all around them, neither one says a word. They don’t need to. They just hold on to each other.
*****
No one’s ever looked at him the way she does. Like there’s no one around for miles, even when they’re in a crowded room. She’s waiting -- for him, for what he might say -- even if she’s pretending she’s not. And words have never meant so much. In little more than a breath, he can heal her. Hurt her. Words have never been so hard to find.
For now he’ll just forgo the rest of what he’d like to say to her and ask her to dance instead.
*****
They’re waiting for me to do something they can all talk about.
You’d think it was your kitchen or something.
Who better to confide in than another freak?
So what are we now?
You’re the one that threw me down on a desk.
You like your neat little picture of Lyssa who never does the right thing.
Maybe if you didn’t work so hard to paint yourself that way.
I don’t see why you need to change it.
With a ring and a vow? I don’t see how that’s going to change anything.
Then what do you need it for?
*****
Do you think maybe he only asks because he knows I’ll say no?
Maybe I could wait until spring. Ask him in the garden, with all the flowers blooming…
There's this flower. Only blooms for an hour or so. You should come watch with me.
Lyss, I planted the garden.
And if I stick around, I’ll be on my knees by the end of the night, begging you to marry me.
And just what would be so bad about that?
I am not letting you kill yourself.
I have no intention of dying tonight.
I love you.
***************
2 eggs
1 cup butter
1 cup sugar
½ tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
2 cups flour
Mix eggs, butter, and sugar. Stir in dry ingredients.
Drop by spoonfuls onto cookie sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes at 375°.
Story : knights
Rating : R
Timeframe : N/A
Word Count : 802 (11 Pocky Chain)
Cherry for the format. Hopefully the last one explains all of the others.
Cookie Crumbs for #'s 9 & 10 - assorted quotes from other pieces.
Gold Medal for Team Rainbow Brains for the Pocky Chain Challenge.
"On your left!" Farran called.
Rune whirled round just in time to see the demon bearing down on him, its toothy jaw spread wide, erupt in flames.
Lyssa rose up behind it, breathing hard, hair plastered to her brow with sweat and gloves singed and smoking. She was grinning ear to ear. "Got it," she said.
*****
"Must you treat every little scratch a matter of life and death?"
"I let you walk home on that and you just might make it one." Rune turned the injured leg over, picked a bit of debris from the cut, and with a quick, easy burst, fused the flesh shut. Lyssa retracted the mended limb with a snort.
"Honestly, Lyss," he said, with a slow shake of his head as she righted herself, "I wouldn't like to see what you'd do without me."
*****
It’s hard to tell at times where one leaves off and the other begins. Four groping hands, two sets of roaming lips, bodies entwined in an age old dance beneath the moonlight. Skin glistening, hearts pounding. Rune nuzzles against her neck, and she curls a leg around his back. Every motion answered with a counter motion. Every breath a shared endeavor. A volley of names and cries as they writhe against the sheets, a chorus of trembling sighs as they wind to a close.
*****
Curled atop her sleeping roll, knees to chest, Lyssa wriggled her toes down into soft cotton folds. The campfire crackled cheerfully. Ski snored on the far side. The contents of the box beside her had been reduced to a smattering of crumbs too small to be bothered with and the crusty bits of frosting that clung to the sides.
She unfolded and appraised, again, the bit of paper she'd found beneath the cookies. Happy birthday, Lyss. At least she reckoned that's what the heavy, splotchy scrawl was intended to say. There was no mistaking the 'I love you' beneath it.
*****
"Would it kill you to cover up a bit?"
"No."
"So-"
"Try and make me and it might kill you."
*****
“Always have to have the last word, don’t you?”
“Only when I know I’m right.”
“Oh. Oh? So, you’re always right, then?”
“Often enough.”
“Well, not this time…What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Damn right, nothing. ‘Cause I’m right…Rune?”
“Nothing.”
*****
Nothing’s ever felt quite so much like home. Nestled under his arm, curled up on the stoop. No one to see them but a bunch of flowers, and she’s never known plants to talk.
She doesn’t have to force her way into his heart, doesn’t have to shout and posture and put herself in the spotlight to remind him that she’s there. She doesn’t have to question when she pushes him whether he’ll push back.
Like the blooms all around them, neither one says a word. They don’t need to. They just hold on to each other.
*****
No one’s ever looked at him the way she does. Like there’s no one around for miles, even when they’re in a crowded room. She’s waiting -- for him, for what he might say -- even if she’s pretending she’s not. And words have never meant so much. In little more than a breath, he can heal her. Hurt her. Words have never been so hard to find.
For now he’ll just forgo the rest of what he’d like to say to her and ask her to dance instead.
*****
They’re waiting for me to do something they can all talk about.
You’d think it was your kitchen or something.
Who better to confide in than another freak?
So what are we now?
You’re the one that threw me down on a desk.
You like your neat little picture of Lyssa who never does the right thing.
Maybe if you didn’t work so hard to paint yourself that way.
I don’t see why you need to change it.
With a ring and a vow? I don’t see how that’s going to change anything.
Then what do you need it for?
*****
Do you think maybe he only asks because he knows I’ll say no?
Maybe I could wait until spring. Ask him in the garden, with all the flowers blooming…
There's this flower. Only blooms for an hour or so. You should come watch with me.
Lyss, I planted the garden.
And if I stick around, I’ll be on my knees by the end of the night, begging you to marry me.
And just what would be so bad about that?
I am not letting you kill yourself.
I have no intention of dying tonight.
I love you.
***************
2 eggs
1 cup butter
1 cup sugar
½ tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
2 cups flour
Mix eggs, butter, and sugar. Stir in dry ingredients.
Drop by spoonfuls onto cookie sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes at 375°.