Post by wordy on Apr 21, 2010 21:01:20 GMT 10
Title: Playing in the Dirt (3)
Rating: PG
Length: 417
Summary: Emelan!fic, the third in a series of short drabbles. Modernish AU. Briar/Sandry.
Sandry shut the door behind her and went straight upstairs to run herself a bath. She silently cursed Daja for putting ideas into her head. It had been difficult enough having a gorgeous young man around every day, but now...well, now she was actually thinking about him. And not in an employer-employee kind of way.
While the tub filled, she went back downstairs and into her study. She had felt like a fool when he had said that word and she had no idea what he was talking about. Luckily, one of her aunts was a bit obsessed about gardening, and had gotten into the habit of sending her gardening books for Christmas. Maybe she could look the word up in one of them. Reading up about a few gardening terms and such probably wouldn’t hurt either, she told herself. Next time she wouldn’t stand there like an idiot.
Walking up to her bookshelf, she chose one of the gardening books at random and flipped to the contents page. There was nothing in there about tulips. Grabbing the next book, she was glad to see that it mentioned different types of flowers. Turning to the page on tulips, she skimmed the tiny writing until her finger stopped at variegated. She bit her lip for a moment as she read what it said, then snapped the book shut and put it back in its place.
All the way back upstairs, she told herself that it didn’t mean anything. Flowers had all sorts of odd meanings attached to them: it didn’t mean anything. One of her cousins loved lilies, but that didn’t mean she was obsessed with death or anything.
She turned off the taps after testing the water in the bathtub, then sat down on the edge and looked out the window. Down below, she could just make out a row of lavender along her white front fence. She tried not to think about how many days it had taken for him to plant it all, how she had watched him from inside the house, noticing the appealing way his shoulders moved when he dug out holes in the flowerbeds. Or the way that he had leaned back on the grass just before, looking dishevelled and dirty and gorgeous. And she definitely didn’t think about the way he had looked at her.
With a sigh, Sandry got up and began getting undressed for her bath, promising to be very angry at Daja the next time she saw her.
Rating: PG
Length: 417
Summary: Emelan!fic, the third in a series of short drabbles. Modernish AU. Briar/Sandry.
Sandry shut the door behind her and went straight upstairs to run herself a bath. She silently cursed Daja for putting ideas into her head. It had been difficult enough having a gorgeous young man around every day, but now...well, now she was actually thinking about him. And not in an employer-employee kind of way.
While the tub filled, she went back downstairs and into her study. She had felt like a fool when he had said that word and she had no idea what he was talking about. Luckily, one of her aunts was a bit obsessed about gardening, and had gotten into the habit of sending her gardening books for Christmas. Maybe she could look the word up in one of them. Reading up about a few gardening terms and such probably wouldn’t hurt either, she told herself. Next time she wouldn’t stand there like an idiot.
Walking up to her bookshelf, she chose one of the gardening books at random and flipped to the contents page. There was nothing in there about tulips. Grabbing the next book, she was glad to see that it mentioned different types of flowers. Turning to the page on tulips, she skimmed the tiny writing until her finger stopped at variegated. She bit her lip for a moment as she read what it said, then snapped the book shut and put it back in its place.
All the way back upstairs, she told herself that it didn’t mean anything. Flowers had all sorts of odd meanings attached to them: it didn’t mean anything. One of her cousins loved lilies, but that didn’t mean she was obsessed with death or anything.
She turned off the taps after testing the water in the bathtub, then sat down on the edge and looked out the window. Down below, she could just make out a row of lavender along her white front fence. She tried not to think about how many days it had taken for him to plant it all, how she had watched him from inside the house, noticing the appealing way his shoulders moved when he dug out holes in the flowerbeds. Or the way that he had leaned back on the grass just before, looking dishevelled and dirty and gorgeous. And she definitely didn’t think about the way he had looked at her.
With a sigh, Sandry got up and began getting undressed for her bath, promising to be very angry at Daja the next time she saw her.