Post by wordy on Dec 14, 2012 10:03:23 GMT 10
Title: orphans of the storm
Rating: PG
Prompt: #5 winter’s warmth
Summary: Not quite newlyweds.
The wind was so strong that it took the two of them to push the door shut against it. Specks of snow melted on the floor where they had flown in from outside. Gary stamped his feet a few times, then pulled off his gloves and tucked them under his arm. It felt good to wiggle some life back into his chilled fingers.
“If it means to get any colder,” said Cythera, doing the same, “then I mean to spend the rest of winter in bed.”
Gary chuckled and stepped closer to help her unwind her scarf, though his amusement faded quickly. “Why in Mithros’ name is this thing so damned long?” His arms were already beginning to ache. How had Cythera even managed to put it on by herself in the first place?
She raised an eyebrow. “My mother knows how I hate the cold.”
“Your mother made me a perfectly normal scarf last Midwinter,” said Gary, still unwinding. The spare material was beginning to drag on the wet floor. “This is a monstrosity.”
“You seem in an awful hurry to undress me.”
“And your mother seems very determined that I not.”
Gary was abruptly pulled forward, almost tripping over his own feet, Cythera’s hand latched onto the front of his coat. A steadying arm wrapped itself around his waist.
Her nose was red from the cold, yet, unattractive as it was, there was nothing he could ever find about her face that was anything but sweet. She tilted her face up slowly—much too slowly for Gary’s liking—and kissed him.
“Please stop talking about my mother,” she murmured, pressing a light kiss to his jaw.
Gary wrapped his arms around her and dragged her mouth back to his, smiling when Cythera clutched him tighter. He had no intention of informing his future mother-in-law that she had quite gotten things the wrong way around where matters of her daughter’s virtue were involved.
Rating: PG
Prompt: #5 winter’s warmth
Summary: Not quite newlyweds.
The wind was so strong that it took the two of them to push the door shut against it. Specks of snow melted on the floor where they had flown in from outside. Gary stamped his feet a few times, then pulled off his gloves and tucked them under his arm. It felt good to wiggle some life back into his chilled fingers.
“If it means to get any colder,” said Cythera, doing the same, “then I mean to spend the rest of winter in bed.”
Gary chuckled and stepped closer to help her unwind her scarf, though his amusement faded quickly. “Why in Mithros’ name is this thing so damned long?” His arms were already beginning to ache. How had Cythera even managed to put it on by herself in the first place?
She raised an eyebrow. “My mother knows how I hate the cold.”
“Your mother made me a perfectly normal scarf last Midwinter,” said Gary, still unwinding. The spare material was beginning to drag on the wet floor. “This is a monstrosity.”
“You seem in an awful hurry to undress me.”
“And your mother seems very determined that I not.”
Gary was abruptly pulled forward, almost tripping over his own feet, Cythera’s hand latched onto the front of his coat. A steadying arm wrapped itself around his waist.
Her nose was red from the cold, yet, unattractive as it was, there was nothing he could ever find about her face that was anything but sweet. She tilted her face up slowly—much too slowly for Gary’s liking—and kissed him.
“Please stop talking about my mother,” she murmured, pressing a light kiss to his jaw.
Gary wrapped his arms around her and dragged her mouth back to his, smiling when Cythera clutched him tighter. He had no intention of informing his future mother-in-law that she had quite gotten things the wrong way around where matters of her daughter’s virtue were involved.