Post by wordy on Mar 4, 2010 8:45:13 GMT 10
Title: Dinner
Rating: PG13
Length: 588
Competitor: Faleron
Round/Fight: 2A
Summary: A formal dinner is too much for Kel.
Keeping her gaze on her plate, Kel furtively kicked Faleron under the table. From the corner of her eye, she could see the slight upturn of his mouth, and his hand continued its journey across her thigh. She was already finding it difficult to breathe in her peacock blue gown, which felt too tightly fitted across her torso. When she had first seen the finished product – another creation of Lalasa’s – she had gasped in awe at the simple beauty of the fabric, and at the way the colour somehow complemented her pale skin perfectly. But now she was only gasping for breath, and Faleron’s hand creeping slowly over her silk-clad leg was not making things any easier.
“King Maggot has used up all his resources,” Alanna was saying. Kel tried to return her attention to the conversation at hand. “If we could just send a few people closer, we’d have him within the year.”
Everyone around the table nodded in agreement. Kel did too, though her attention had drifted once again; Faleron had withdrawn his hand to finish his meal. She had gotten distracted by his mouth, which was still showing a hint of a smile as he ate. He knew she was watching him, which made Kel even more frustrated. Clearing her throat quietly, she returned to her own meal, picking up her fork and spearing a piece of roasted potato.
“We’ve been trying to do that for the duration of the war,” said the Baron. Kel couldn’t help but look at him when he spoke; there was something about him that was captivating, though he wasn’t conventionally handsome.
“Yes,” answered Alanna steadily, trying not to raise her voice. “But now-”
Kel lost interest again as they debated and drifted off to her own thoughts. Her part in the war was practically over, though the war itself was not. She needed some time off, though she would not admit it to anyone – particularly not to Neal or Merric. Looking across the table at Neal, she couldn’t help but smile. He was watching the heated discussion attentively while trying to direct his fork into his open mouth. Kel watched for a moment; it took him three tries before he succeeded, his eyes glued to Alanna and her husband the entire time. Kel shook her head with a smile.
The dinner had run much later than intended. Kel didn’t feel at all tired, but sitting in a hot room wearing a ridiculously tight dress made up for that. Her skin already felt hot and sticky with sweat. The last straw was when Faleron finished eating and returned his hand to her leg; she was already highly strung, but now she was at boiling point. Excusing herself and bidding everyone a polite yet hasty goodnight, she left the stuffy room. Closing the door behind her, she leaned up against the wall for a moment, cooling herself down in the light breeze that played down the corridor.
“Tired?” Faleron emerged a few minutes later, casting a quick glance back inside before shutting the door behind him. Here, in the dimly lit corridor, his pale face was a stark contrast against his long dark hair and crimson tunic.
“No,” answered Kel, running a hand across the back of her sweaty neck. “It’s a bit stuffy in there, that’s all. This dress was the worst idea I’ve ever let Lalasa talk me into.”
“Well,” said Faleron, taking hold of her waist with a smile. “Maybe I can talk you out of it.”
Rating: PG13
Length: 588
Competitor: Faleron
Round/Fight: 2A
Summary: A formal dinner is too much for Kel.
Keeping her gaze on her plate, Kel furtively kicked Faleron under the table. From the corner of her eye, she could see the slight upturn of his mouth, and his hand continued its journey across her thigh. She was already finding it difficult to breathe in her peacock blue gown, which felt too tightly fitted across her torso. When she had first seen the finished product – another creation of Lalasa’s – she had gasped in awe at the simple beauty of the fabric, and at the way the colour somehow complemented her pale skin perfectly. But now she was only gasping for breath, and Faleron’s hand creeping slowly over her silk-clad leg was not making things any easier.
“King Maggot has used up all his resources,” Alanna was saying. Kel tried to return her attention to the conversation at hand. “If we could just send a few people closer, we’d have him within the year.”
Everyone around the table nodded in agreement. Kel did too, though her attention had drifted once again; Faleron had withdrawn his hand to finish his meal. She had gotten distracted by his mouth, which was still showing a hint of a smile as he ate. He knew she was watching him, which made Kel even more frustrated. Clearing her throat quietly, she returned to her own meal, picking up her fork and spearing a piece of roasted potato.
“We’ve been trying to do that for the duration of the war,” said the Baron. Kel couldn’t help but look at him when he spoke; there was something about him that was captivating, though he wasn’t conventionally handsome.
“Yes,” answered Alanna steadily, trying not to raise her voice. “But now-”
Kel lost interest again as they debated and drifted off to her own thoughts. Her part in the war was practically over, though the war itself was not. She needed some time off, though she would not admit it to anyone – particularly not to Neal or Merric. Looking across the table at Neal, she couldn’t help but smile. He was watching the heated discussion attentively while trying to direct his fork into his open mouth. Kel watched for a moment; it took him three tries before he succeeded, his eyes glued to Alanna and her husband the entire time. Kel shook her head with a smile.
The dinner had run much later than intended. Kel didn’t feel at all tired, but sitting in a hot room wearing a ridiculously tight dress made up for that. Her skin already felt hot and sticky with sweat. The last straw was when Faleron finished eating and returned his hand to her leg; she was already highly strung, but now she was at boiling point. Excusing herself and bidding everyone a polite yet hasty goodnight, she left the stuffy room. Closing the door behind her, she leaned up against the wall for a moment, cooling herself down in the light breeze that played down the corridor.
“Tired?” Faleron emerged a few minutes later, casting a quick glance back inside before shutting the door behind him. Here, in the dimly lit corridor, his pale face was a stark contrast against his long dark hair and crimson tunic.
“No,” answered Kel, running a hand across the back of her sweaty neck. “It’s a bit stuffy in there, that’s all. This dress was the worst idea I’ve ever let Lalasa talk me into.”
“Well,” said Faleron, taking hold of her waist with a smile. “Maybe I can talk you out of it.”
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!