Post by Seek on Jun 9, 2009 20:32:37 GMT 10
Title: Sticks
Rating: PG for safety
Prompt: #4, Food
Summary: He stares at the softly-polished wooden lacquered sticks. They stare back at him, and he feels very, very inept.
Neal finds this mildly ironic. He has survived war, being the Lioness’ squire-
And now, he is confounded by the task that lies before him. He stares at the softly-polished wooden lacquered sticks. They stare back at him, and he feels very, very inept.
Yuki is already eating, and he watches the deft movements of her fingers, the crinkle by her eyes that means laughter and amusement, as he clumsily spears a piece of meat with one stick. It falls off when he brings it to his black-lacquered bowl, and he glares at it. The crinkle becomes more pronounced, and she puts her sticks down, neatly.
“Keladry never said you didn’t know how to use otemoto.” She says.
“Kel never said I can’t joust, but I can’t anyway,” Neal grumbles. “Not like her on that bruiser of a horse.”
A flicker of amusement.
“Allow me,” Yuki says, softly. She is next to him now, her breath brushing his shoulder. She demonstrates how to use the sticks, grabbing a piece of slightly pink fish in a light brown savory sauce.
Neal tries, and fish crumbles into flakes between his sticks. A soft laugh. She holds his hand, wrapping her slender fingers around his, and guides his fingers and the otemoto. They close about the sweet, slightly candied watermelon, and he gently guides it to a pair of yielding lips.
Yuki, he thinks, is like the burst of candied watermelon in a mouth- sweet, fresh, and with a delicate lingering promise, forever.
Rating: PG for safety
Prompt: #4, Food
Summary: He stares at the softly-polished wooden lacquered sticks. They stare back at him, and he feels very, very inept.
Neal finds this mildly ironic. He has survived war, being the Lioness’ squire-
And now, he is confounded by the task that lies before him. He stares at the softly-polished wooden lacquered sticks. They stare back at him, and he feels very, very inept.
Yuki is already eating, and he watches the deft movements of her fingers, the crinkle by her eyes that means laughter and amusement, as he clumsily spears a piece of meat with one stick. It falls off when he brings it to his black-lacquered bowl, and he glares at it. The crinkle becomes more pronounced, and she puts her sticks down, neatly.
“Keladry never said you didn’t know how to use otemoto.” She says.
“Kel never said I can’t joust, but I can’t anyway,” Neal grumbles. “Not like her on that bruiser of a horse.”
A flicker of amusement.
“Allow me,” Yuki says, softly. She is next to him now, her breath brushing his shoulder. She demonstrates how to use the sticks, grabbing a piece of slightly pink fish in a light brown savory sauce.
Neal tries, and fish crumbles into flakes between his sticks. A soft laugh. She holds his hand, wrapping her slender fingers around his, and guides his fingers and the otemoto. They close about the sweet, slightly candied watermelon, and he gently guides it to a pair of yielding lips.
Yuki, he thinks, is like the burst of candied watermelon in a mouth- sweet, fresh, and with a delicate lingering promise, forever.
