Post by sketchymurr on Apr 23, 2011 14:23:39 GMT 10
Title: Tattoo
Rating: G
Word Count: 268
Pairing: Lark/Rosethorn
Round/Fight: 2/B
Summary: Lark inquires about tattoos.
“Have you figured out how to do that purposefully yet?” Lark’s light voice startled Briar out of the papers from the Duke he was reading. His eyes followed hers to his hands.
“The tattoos, you mean?” He gave her a sheepish grin as he looked at his teacher in a new light. Hand on a hip, he raised a brow, grey-green eyes curious.
“Yes.” She smiled and stirred her tea. “If you could, I’d like a rose.”
Briar gave a cat-like smile as he saw where this was going. “A rose? Will this rose have thorns?”
Lark’s eyes were decided as she nodded. “I wouldn’t take my roses any other way.”
As Briar detailed the rose on Lark’s shoulder, he let his memories of Rosethorn slip in. In a way, this rose was a tribute to her from him and Lark. Finishing the thorns, Briar watched as the first rosebud slipped over Lark’s shoulder. “Oh!” The woman gasped, looking down. The rose had bloomed decidedly over her heart, the colour intense and brimming as the petals unfurled.
Sweat on her forehead gleamed above bright eyes. Lark didn’t like needles, Briar thought to himself. Lark’s fingers splayed over the rose, as if it somehow connected her to her Rosie. “Don’t tell her- I will.”
Briar smiled to himself, not meeting her eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d glanced on a moment just a little too personal for his tastes. Lark’s smile hadn’t dimmed as she adjusted her shirt and ran her fingers over the rose. It was just where Rosie belonged.
QC by PeroxidePirate
Rating: G
Word Count: 268
Pairing: Lark/Rosethorn
Round/Fight: 2/B
Summary: Lark inquires about tattoos.
“Have you figured out how to do that purposefully yet?” Lark’s light voice startled Briar out of the papers from the Duke he was reading. His eyes followed hers to his hands.
“The tattoos, you mean?” He gave her a sheepish grin as he looked at his teacher in a new light. Hand on a hip, he raised a brow, grey-green eyes curious.
“Yes.” She smiled and stirred her tea. “If you could, I’d like a rose.”
Briar gave a cat-like smile as he saw where this was going. “A rose? Will this rose have thorns?”
Lark’s eyes were decided as she nodded. “I wouldn’t take my roses any other way.”
As Briar detailed the rose on Lark’s shoulder, he let his memories of Rosethorn slip in. In a way, this rose was a tribute to her from him and Lark. Finishing the thorns, Briar watched as the first rosebud slipped over Lark’s shoulder. “Oh!” The woman gasped, looking down. The rose had bloomed decidedly over her heart, the colour intense and brimming as the petals unfurled.
Sweat on her forehead gleamed above bright eyes. Lark didn’t like needles, Briar thought to himself. Lark’s fingers splayed over the rose, as if it somehow connected her to her Rosie. “Don’t tell her- I will.”
Briar smiled to himself, not meeting her eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d glanced on a moment just a little too personal for his tastes. Lark’s smile hadn’t dimmed as she adjusted her shirt and ran her fingers over the rose. It was just where Rosie belonged.
QC by PeroxidePirate