Post by wordy on Aug 31, 2011 14:25:50 GMT 10
Title: Just Say Yes
Rating: G
Prompt: #52 Modern
Summary: The magic in the weaving.
A/N: I got a bit carried away with the art-love in this one. Title is the song by Snow Patrol.
The gallery is packed. Sandry can't keep the smile off of her face.
For a while, she drifts around, exchanging one glass of champagne for another and admiring how her work looks on the walls. Not for the first time, she wishes that her uncle could have been there to witness her success. She'll have to tell him all about it next week.
The crowd thins out eventually and she finds herself noticing a young man with dark hair standing in front of The Silkworm's Dream, his head cocked to the side.
"Do you like it?" she asks, stepping up beside him. The hanging is a blush of colour with delicate gold that catches the light. It's one of her favourites, and though she'd be sad to sell it, the thought of someone else loving it as much as she does is enough.
"It's pretty." The young man looks at her, shrugs. "I have to admit, I don't know a thing about art, though."
Sandry smiles and returns her eyes to the hanging. "You don't have to know anything about art to appreciate it."
His eyes are on her when she turns back, and she can feel the heat spreading across her cheeks. Too much chamagne, she thinks.
He extends a hand. "Briar."
"Sandry," she replies, taking it.
Perhaps she'll have something else to tell her uncle about next week.
Rating: G
Prompt: #52 Modern
Summary: The magic in the weaving.
A/N: I got a bit carried away with the art-love in this one. Title is the song by Snow Patrol.
The gallery is packed. Sandry can't keep the smile off of her face.
For a while, she drifts around, exchanging one glass of champagne for another and admiring how her work looks on the walls. Not for the first time, she wishes that her uncle could have been there to witness her success. She'll have to tell him all about it next week.
The crowd thins out eventually and she finds herself noticing a young man with dark hair standing in front of The Silkworm's Dream, his head cocked to the side.
"Do you like it?" she asks, stepping up beside him. The hanging is a blush of colour with delicate gold that catches the light. It's one of her favourites, and though she'd be sad to sell it, the thought of someone else loving it as much as she does is enough.
"It's pretty." The young man looks at her, shrugs. "I have to admit, I don't know a thing about art, though."
Sandry smiles and returns her eyes to the hanging. "You don't have to know anything about art to appreciate it."
His eyes are on her when she turns back, and she can feel the heat spreading across her cheeks. Too much chamagne, she thinks.
He extends a hand. "Briar."
"Sandry," she replies, taking it.
Perhaps she'll have something else to tell her uncle about next week.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!