Post by wordy on Apr 22, 2010 20:10:35 GMT 10
Title: Playing in the Dirt (4)
Rating: PG13
Length: 428
Summary: Emelan!fic, the fourth in a series of short drabbles. Modernish AU. Briar/Sandry.
Author’s Notes: Instead of finishing my essay I decided to write this. I hope you appreciate that. There'll probably be at least two or three more parts after this one, though I might not get them all done by the end of AU Week. I'll see how I go.
Briar stood back and observed the tulips with a grin. It had taken two whole weeks to find the ones he wanted, but looking at them now in all their pink and white mottled glory, it was worth it. The late afternoon sun was warm against his back and he curled his toes in the soft grass—he always went barefoot when he was gardening—letting out a happy sigh. Everything was perfect.
“I thought I asked you to let me know when you found them,” came Sandry’s voice from behind him.
“You saw me bringing them in this morning,” he said, not bothering to turn around to answer. His grin widened, and he was glad that she couldn’t see his face. “I saw you watching when you opened the door for your friend.”
He could just imagine the expression on her face: pale eyebrows slightly creased in annoyance, her lips pressed tightly together to hold back a snarky comment. He looked down at the grass and folded his arms, trying not to laugh.
“You saw me watching?” she said eventually, in a slow voice.
Briar turned around and looked at her, taking in her expression that gave away nothing, and the way her hair hung loose around the curve of her neck. This felt like a trap. Though one he honestly wouldn’t mind getting caught in. “Yes.”
She looked at him for a moment and then looked away, biting the inside of her cheek. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat. “Well, they look lovely.”
He wondered that she didn’t turn away from him when he walked over to her and stood so close that her dress blew against his legs in the slight breeze. Up close, he could see the light constellation of freckles spread across her nose and cheeks, and the captivating way her eyelashes covered her eyes when she looked down. When she looked up again and met his eyes stubbornly, he felt something in his chest stutter. It would be so easy to fall in love with this girl.
He moved slowly, giving her time to move away if she wanted to, but she stood still and stared resolutely back at him, her gaze shifting from his eyes down to his mouth as he drew closer. At the last moment, he reached his hand out to lightly touch her waist, stopping with his lips inches from hers: so close that he could taste her breath when she exhaled, before she closed the space between them and pressed her lips softly to his.
Rating: PG13
Length: 428
Summary: Emelan!fic, the fourth in a series of short drabbles. Modernish AU. Briar/Sandry.
Author’s Notes: Instead of finishing my essay I decided to write this. I hope you appreciate that. There'll probably be at least two or three more parts after this one, though I might not get them all done by the end of AU Week. I'll see how I go.
Briar stood back and observed the tulips with a grin. It had taken two whole weeks to find the ones he wanted, but looking at them now in all their pink and white mottled glory, it was worth it. The late afternoon sun was warm against his back and he curled his toes in the soft grass—he always went barefoot when he was gardening—letting out a happy sigh. Everything was perfect.
“I thought I asked you to let me know when you found them,” came Sandry’s voice from behind him.
“You saw me bringing them in this morning,” he said, not bothering to turn around to answer. His grin widened, and he was glad that she couldn’t see his face. “I saw you watching when you opened the door for your friend.”
He could just imagine the expression on her face: pale eyebrows slightly creased in annoyance, her lips pressed tightly together to hold back a snarky comment. He looked down at the grass and folded his arms, trying not to laugh.
“You saw me watching?” she said eventually, in a slow voice.
Briar turned around and looked at her, taking in her expression that gave away nothing, and the way her hair hung loose around the curve of her neck. This felt like a trap. Though one he honestly wouldn’t mind getting caught in. “Yes.”
She looked at him for a moment and then looked away, biting the inside of her cheek. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat. “Well, they look lovely.”
He wondered that she didn’t turn away from him when he walked over to her and stood so close that her dress blew against his legs in the slight breeze. Up close, he could see the light constellation of freckles spread across her nose and cheeks, and the captivating way her eyelashes covered her eyes when she looked down. When she looked up again and met his eyes stubbornly, he felt something in his chest stutter. It would be so easy to fall in love with this girl.
He moved slowly, giving her time to move away if she wanted to, but she stood still and stared resolutely back at him, her gaze shifting from his eyes down to his mouth as he drew closer. At the last moment, he reached his hand out to lightly touch her waist, stopping with his lips inches from hers: so close that he could taste her breath when she exhaled, before she closed the space between them and pressed her lips softly to his.