Post by journeycat on Feb 17, 2010 15:46:22 GMT 10
Title: Sick
Rating: R (SQUICK of epic proportions)
Length: 229 words
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: The lies are killing him, but the truth will destroy him.
-----
He knew they slept together now.
Brandy has become his friend again, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until he took that first burning sip. He has a wife, but how could he judge him for that
(the wife I have is not the one I want, oh gods, I need her)
when he had one as well? No, the truth was a landscape of disaster that he could not acknowledge because it meant acknowledging that part of him that was disgusting and disloyal and cowardly. But the brandy was a friend with a double-edged sword, and it drowned him in memories he wished he could forget
(her body pinned beneath his, her deep musical voice crying out his name like a song and her long fingers raking his back with her sharp nails)
(and don’t forget that beauty with her emerald eyes and sea of brunette hair in which he could bury his face)
like his dishonor. He was a lover with no love, a father without children. He had loved two women, and they had born him a daughter and a son that he could never claim
(and now his son and daughter)
because he was afraid
(they were)
and because he would have to admit that he was sick
(together)
for loving his daughter and hating his son for loving his daughter.
Rating: R (SQUICK of epic proportions)
Length: 229 words
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: The lies are killing him, but the truth will destroy him.
-----
He knew they slept together now.
Brandy has become his friend again, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until he took that first burning sip. He has a wife, but how could he judge him for that
(the wife I have is not the one I want, oh gods, I need her)
when he had one as well? No, the truth was a landscape of disaster that he could not acknowledge because it meant acknowledging that part of him that was disgusting and disloyal and cowardly. But the brandy was a friend with a double-edged sword, and it drowned him in memories he wished he could forget
(her body pinned beneath his, her deep musical voice crying out his name like a song and her long fingers raking his back with her sharp nails)
(and don’t forget that beauty with her emerald eyes and sea of brunette hair in which he could bury his face)
like his dishonor. He was a lover with no love, a father without children. He had loved two women, and they had born him a daughter and a son that he could never claim
(and now his son and daughter)
because he was afraid
(they were)
and because he would have to admit that he was sick
(together)
for loving his daughter and hating his son for loving his daughter.
I'm glad you weren't just like "Uhh...well, this is awkward." So I very much appreciate your comment!
OMG! I love it!
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!