They huddled in an alley, listening to sirens wail in the background. Scott could still smell burning smoke from the explosion that had rocked the hotel just as they were ducking out the basement.
“Remember,” Carolyn said, “if you want to stay alive, you have to do exactly as I say when I say it. You listen to me, or you listen to John.”
John was crouched behind Dan, armed with a machine gun and scanning the shadows warily. Dan was clutching Carolyn’s handgun too tightly, and his face was pinched with tension, but he seemed the most calm. Clay had a death grip on one of Bob’s arms and refused to let go, which meant that Carolyn had to shield both of them at all times.
“What’s the plan?” John asked. “Combat command is down.”
“The Agency is sending in an retrieval team. We head to the rendezvous point and make sure The Carrier stays alive,” Carolyn said. She kept her voice low. Scott couldn’t help but stare at her bloodstained hands, at her casual grip on the machine gun she’d taken from one of the corpses in the hotel room.
Footsteps in the distance sounded like they were coming closer.
“Get back,” Carolyn hissed. “Scott, you stay with me.”
Bob tugged Clay backward into the alley, and John moved to guard them.
Carolyn set down the machine gun very carefully, and then she stood up. Scott rose with her, and together they crept toward the mouth of the alley.
“What’s going on?” Scott asked. Carolyn spun around and shoved him up against the wall, pressed herself against him and kissed him.
He froze, but she had one hand in his hair, and he could feel the stickiness of drying blood, and Bob was going to kill him, but then a voice broke the moment.
A uniformed man, dressed just like one of the corpses in the hotel room, spoke in rapid German. Carolyn pulled back, spoke in flawless German in reply, and the man nodded. Scott straightened up and scrubbed a hand over the back of his mouth, keeping his gaze averted while Carolyn and the soldier spoke.
Then the soldier said, in English, “You kids should get home.”
Scott nodded cautiously. “Yes, sir.”
The soldier leveled a machine gun at him. “We found one!”
Carolyn spun into action. She wrenched the gun out of his arms with a sickening crunch; she must have broken several of his fingers. A sweeping kick brought the man to the ground, and Carolyn shot him. Other soldiers must have heard his cry, and they charged up the street. Carolyn cut them down with a hail of bullets. Scott remained against the wall, hand pressed to his mouth, horrified by the utter blankness of her expression.
Deeper in the alley, someone threw up. It was probably Clay.
Carolyn set down the machine gun, stole another from a corpse. “Let’s move.”
(488 words)
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Like That Before
Bryan was under his car again, it was one of his favotite places to be. He grinned at the throaty roar from the engine above him, head nodding to the beat of the radio. Mark always teased him that he could feel the sould of a car just from listening to it.
Bryan was jut finishing for the day when he fet a tap on his foot.
"Just a sec," he called and wiped the grease from his hands as he scooted out from underthe body of the car. Bryan smiled widely when he saw it was Beth.
"Hey pretty lady, how are you doing?" he asked with a wink.
"I'm doing great," Beth said as she reached out to wipe a bit of grease from Bryan's cheek.
Bryan sat up on the rolling platform and scooted closer to his girlfriend. He leaned in closer and gave her a passionate kiss.
Beth's brow forrowed in confusion as she pulled back, breath coming in gasps, "you didn't kiss me like that before," she said.
"When was that?" Bryan asked.
"Yesterday," Beth said.
Bryan had to swallow his laughter, he knew perfectly well what had happened. "Well maybe there are two sides to me," he said and kissed her gently.
Bryan was jut finishing for the day when he fet a tap on his foot.
"Just a sec," he called and wiped the grease from his hands as he scooted out from underthe body of the car. Bryan smiled widely when he saw it was Beth.
"Hey pretty lady, how are you doing?" he asked with a wink.
"I'm doing great," Beth said as she reached out to wipe a bit of grease from Bryan's cheek.
Bryan sat up on the rolling platform and scooted closer to his girlfriend. He leaned in closer and gave her a passionate kiss.
Beth's brow forrowed in confusion as she pulled back, breath coming in gasps, "you didn't kiss me like that before," she said.
"When was that?" Bryan asked.
"Yesterday," Beth said.
Bryan had to swallow his laughter, he knew perfectly well what had happened. "Well maybe there are two sides to me," he said and kissed her gently.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Don't Want
Another night, another country, another city, and the same crowded club with the same faceless people. Sometimes all it took was catching a brief scent of perfume or the way a girl tossed her head as she danced under the flashing lights and he was hooked. Every time, he managed to get her alone in the shadows in the back of the room, arms around her waist as he closed his eyes and lost himself in the taste of her. He liked the ones who were quiet and tasted like whiskey or bourbon, but every now and again he’d find himself with an armful of a pretty redhead who’d had one too many pink Cosmos.
It didn’t matter that she probably wished he was Scott or Dan, because Scott was somewhere darker and more dangerous away from the dance floor, and Dan was back at the hotel playing cards with Michael and the crew. Clay was the one right here, right now, nibbling on her earlobe and pressing her against the wall. Every moan and sigh was a golden prize, and he pressed his lips against her throat, desperate for another. She reached up and twined her fingers in his hair, dragged him closer, and he obliged, pressing close so he could feel her heartbeat against his.
He skated his hands down her ribs, felt her arch up into his touch.
“Do you want me?” he breathed into her ear.
She bit her lip, moaned again. “Yes.”
“I don’t want you to,” he said, and captured her mouth in a kiss. It was hard, almost bruising, lips and teeth and tongues, and then she spun them around, slammed him up against the wall and did her best to pin him there while she marked a blazing trail down his neck to his collarbone.
He let her trap him, reveled in the heat of her skin and the softness of her mouth, and when she kissed him again, it was softer, almost affectionate.
“I know which one you are,” she whispered, “and you’re the one I want.”
He kissed her back. “Tonight,” he said, “you’re the one I want. For the sake of manners, my name is Clay.”
She smiled and leaned in so their foreheads were touching. “My name is Carol.”
His blood went cold, and he pulled back before she could kiss him, straightened up.
Confusion flared in her eyes. “What?”
Hot shame began to curl through his veins, and he pushed her away, stepped around her. He took two steps into the crowd and was gone.
(428 words)
It didn’t matter that she probably wished he was Scott or Dan, because Scott was somewhere darker and more dangerous away from the dance floor, and Dan was back at the hotel playing cards with Michael and the crew. Clay was the one right here, right now, nibbling on her earlobe and pressing her against the wall. Every moan and sigh was a golden prize, and he pressed his lips against her throat, desperate for another. She reached up and twined her fingers in his hair, dragged him closer, and he obliged, pressing close so he could feel her heartbeat against his.
He skated his hands down her ribs, felt her arch up into his touch.
“Do you want me?” he breathed into her ear.
She bit her lip, moaned again. “Yes.”
“I don’t want you to,” he said, and captured her mouth in a kiss. It was hard, almost bruising, lips and teeth and tongues, and then she spun them around, slammed him up against the wall and did her best to pin him there while she marked a blazing trail down his neck to his collarbone.
He let her trap him, reveled in the heat of her skin and the softness of her mouth, and when she kissed him again, it was softer, almost affectionate.
“I know which one you are,” she whispered, “and you’re the one I want.”
He kissed her back. “Tonight,” he said, “you’re the one I want. For the sake of manners, my name is Clay.”
She smiled and leaned in so their foreheads were touching. “My name is Carol.”
His blood went cold, and he pulled back before she could kiss him, straightened up.
Confusion flared in her eyes. “What?”
Hot shame began to curl through his veins, and he pushed her away, stepped around her. He took two steps into the crowd and was gone.
(428 words)
Desperation
Joe stood in his brothers hospital room, watching as the machines kept him alive. He blinked, long and slow, trying to rally his thoughts, emotions. It was the last time that he would see his brother in some semblance of life. Joe could feel his eyes tearing up again; red and sandy raw from all the tears already shed, and the sleepless nights.
Jen hovered in the background, anxious for Joe, she had come to care for him in the short time that Alec had been in her care. The decision to take Alec off of life support had been made, and she wanted to be there for him, to offer what comfort she could. She knew that she should keep the professional distance. She knew that she was too involved, that she would end up being hurt and most likely hurting Joe as well, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't stop herself from feeling and from caring.
Joe had told her that he wanted to be there when it happened, that he would feel more closure that way.
"Are you ready Joe?" Jen asked.
Joe nodded mutely as tears tracked down his face and his body shuddered with repressed sobs. The air machine stopped hissing, and they could hear Alec's heartbeat slow, then flat line. Jen finally reached out and turned off the heart monitor, trying to swallow back tears.
Turning, Jen found herself in Joe's arms.
Joe wrapped his long arms around Jen, holding her tight against his body as he buried his face in her neck. He felt Jen rubbing his back and murmuring nonsense comfort words. He felt like his heart was being torn in two. Without thinking, Joe sought out Jen's lips, crushing them beneath his own, desperate to feel something beside the pain in his heart.
Jen, for a few brief moments allowed herself to be unthinking, to just react as Joe's tongue moved against hers, twining, desperate, and urgent.
Jen began to pull back as her professional self began to reassert itself.
Joe opened his eyes, but didn't release Jen, "please," he begged, and Jen could see the raw pain in his eyes.
Jen knew that she would perhaps regret her actions later, but she didn't care at the moment. She twined her arms closer around Joe, and welcomed him in.
Jen hovered in the background, anxious for Joe, she had come to care for him in the short time that Alec had been in her care. The decision to take Alec off of life support had been made, and she wanted to be there for him, to offer what comfort she could. She knew that she should keep the professional distance. She knew that she was too involved, that she would end up being hurt and most likely hurting Joe as well, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't stop herself from feeling and from caring.
Joe had told her that he wanted to be there when it happened, that he would feel more closure that way.
"Are you ready Joe?" Jen asked.
Joe nodded mutely as tears tracked down his face and his body shuddered with repressed sobs. The air machine stopped hissing, and they could hear Alec's heartbeat slow, then flat line. Jen finally reached out and turned off the heart monitor, trying to swallow back tears.
Turning, Jen found herself in Joe's arms.
Joe wrapped his long arms around Jen, holding her tight against his body as he buried his face in her neck. He felt Jen rubbing his back and murmuring nonsense comfort words. He felt like his heart was being torn in two. Without thinking, Joe sought out Jen's lips, crushing them beneath his own, desperate to feel something beside the pain in his heart.
Jen, for a few brief moments allowed herself to be unthinking, to just react as Joe's tongue moved against hers, twining, desperate, and urgent.
Jen began to pull back as her professional self began to reassert itself.
Joe opened his eyes, but didn't release Jen, "please," he begged, and Jen could see the raw pain in his eyes.
Jen knew that she would perhaps regret her actions later, but she didn't care at the moment. She twined her arms closer around Joe, and welcomed him in.
Taking Shape
The bottle of wine had been empty for quite some time. I kept glancing at it every few minutes, as if Bacchus himself was going to descend from the heavens and fill the bottle to the brim. No such thing happened, unfortunately. Instead, I sat on the couch, hands folded neatly in my lap. I heard music playing softly from the kitchen, and deciphered the lyrics that were drifting my way.
The moonlight
Shines down interstellar beams
And the groove tonight
Is something more than you’ve ever seen
He stumbled out of the bathroom and over to the couch, sitting right next to me, but for some reason it wasn’t close enough. I felt like I was internally combusting. My skin was on fire and screaming for something. I was pretty sure I knew what my body wanted, but my brain had a drunken, yet firm lock on any and all lost impulse controls. For now, everything was in order.
“So.” He glanced around the room idly and finally his eyes landed in my general direction.
“Do you have anything else to drink?” That was my temporary solution to the problem, just to get more alcohol into my system. I couldn’t tell what outcome I was fighting for, since getting more drunk seemed counterproductive to the whole self control thing.
“Nope, I only had the wine this time around—“
And suddenly the grip I had on my control was lost and my lips found his in all haste. At first his body was stiff with shock, but the longer I kissed him, the less tense he got. Soon, we were an inebriated tangle of tongues and touching.
It was messy, in more ways than one. But as each hazy second passed, the consequences seemed to matter less and less. It was no longer a matter of wanting, but of needing.
Stars and planets taking shape
A stolen kiss has come too late
(323 words)
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Last Kisses
David could vividly remember the last time he had kissed his mother. It had been at her funeral, years and years after the accident that had claimed her life. He was not sad then. Daddy had said that mom would be an Angel, and that it was not sad for her to go; that she would be watching over him. David remembered looking up at the moon at night, trying to see if he could find his mothers face in the contours of that celestial body.
***
The last time he had kissed his father was just before his fathers plane was due to take off. His father had promised to see him in a few days. But he never came. David cried for days.
***
When David met Ariana he had started smiling again. Not the false smile to placate people in general- especially his aunt and uncle who would have sent him to a therapist- but the true smile that he could remember from his early youth.
David was lost in his own thoughts, the plane ride was monotonous, and all he could do was think and remember. Letting his eyes slide closed, David allowed himself to remember the feeling of Ariana's lips against his, a whole world of sensation that was now a faint memory. He allowed briefly his mind to turn to the last time that he had kissed her. The scene played out in his mind like a film, slightly worn and faded.
It was raining, but that was not new; it always rained in Seattle. Ariana had told him that she wanted to pick up a new book, and not to wait for her, she would see him later that evening. She leaned in and gave him a brief but passionate kiss, one that held all the promise of the future. She waved as she got into her car and drove away.
David smiled at the memory and tried to pull his mind back, but could not stop the other memories from following. David winced visibly as he was forced to remember. Remember everything.
Ariana not picking up her phone, searching for her, finding her dying in that stinking alley.
David forced his eyes open, letting the memory fade, like his heartbeat, to a faint echo. He forced his mind back to the mission at hand.
One brief though flashed through his mind before he locked away all errant thoughts and memories.
That was the last time he had ever kissed anyone.
***
The last time he had kissed his father was just before his fathers plane was due to take off. His father had promised to see him in a few days. But he never came. David cried for days.
***
When David met Ariana he had started smiling again. Not the false smile to placate people in general- especially his aunt and uncle who would have sent him to a therapist- but the true smile that he could remember from his early youth.
David was lost in his own thoughts, the plane ride was monotonous, and all he could do was think and remember. Letting his eyes slide closed, David allowed himself to remember the feeling of Ariana's lips against his, a whole world of sensation that was now a faint memory. He allowed briefly his mind to turn to the last time that he had kissed her. The scene played out in his mind like a film, slightly worn and faded.
It was raining, but that was not new; it always rained in Seattle. Ariana had told him that she wanted to pick up a new book, and not to wait for her, she would see him later that evening. She leaned in and gave him a brief but passionate kiss, one that held all the promise of the future. She waved as she got into her car and drove away.
David smiled at the memory and tried to pull his mind back, but could not stop the other memories from following. David winced visibly as he was forced to remember. Remember everything.
Ariana not picking up her phone, searching for her, finding her dying in that stinking alley.
David forced his eyes open, letting the memory fade, like his heartbeat, to a faint echo. He forced his mind back to the mission at hand.
One brief though flashed through his mind before he locked away all errant thoughts and memories.
That was the last time he had ever kissed anyone.
Said It Back
(continued from this post)
“Are you going to stand there all night and just watch?” Dan asked.
Carolyn was leaning in the doorway of the boys’ hotel room, watching while Scott, Clay, and Bob tried to hash out a math problem.
“Like you’ve never done the same thing with Michael.” She smiled faintly at Bob’s antics as he tried to jab Clay with his pencil.
“Yes, well, you can kiss Bob and tell him you love him.” Dan shoved his hands into his pockets.
Carolyn didn’t move.
Dan studied her out of the corner of his eye. Something about her expression was - off. She didn’t look angry or frustrated, so she and Bob hadn’t fought. She looked utterly exhausted. The line of her shoulders and the way she rested against the doorframe spoke of a bone-deep tiredness that not even a good night’s sleep would cure.
“Is everything all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Dan glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot, then lowered his voice. “I mean, is everything all right?”
Carolyn turned to him sharply. “What makes you ask?”
“You look - like a soldier who’s just waiting for the enemy to come and kill him.”
“They don’t want to kill me,” she said, turning back to watch the other three.
Dan straightened up. “Are they coming to kill him?”
Carolyn sighed, pushed herself upright. “You should get your homework done. I’ll see you in the a.m.” She started forward, but Dan caught her by the arm.
“Are they coming to kill my brother?”
Something in Carolyn’s eyes fractured. “No, no. They don’t want to kill him. They want to take him. It’s my job to stop them.”
“And if they do take him?”
“Good night, Dan.”
Carolyn stepped into the room, and her entire posture changed. The weight of the world she’d been wearing slipped off her shoulders. The other three looked up, distracted from their squabble, and Dan saw Bob’s face light up.
“Hey Caro,” Scott said. “You’re a genius - settle this math problem for us.”
Clay waved weakly, avoided her gaze.
Carolyn laughed. “I would, but I’m under strict orders from Shelley not to interfere with your homework. I just came to say goodnight - we’re pulling out early tomorrow.”
“How early is early?” Scott asked.
“You four will get all your beauty sleep, so don’t worry.” Carolyn leaned over and kissed Bob on the cheek, the gesture discreet, but Clay and Scott turned away politely anyway. “See you tomorrow, Robbie.”
“’Night, Caro,” he said.
Dan watched the entire exchange, horrified by Carolyn’s deception in a way he never had been before. Would Bob even have a tomorrow?
Bob glanced at his other two brothers, who were suddenly very involved in their math, and then he tugged Carolyn in for a real kiss. When they parted, Dan saw his brother mouth the words,
“I love you.”
Dan wasn’t sure whether Carolyn said it back.
(489 words)
“Are you going to stand there all night and just watch?” Dan asked.
Carolyn was leaning in the doorway of the boys’ hotel room, watching while Scott, Clay, and Bob tried to hash out a math problem.
“Like you’ve never done the same thing with Michael.” She smiled faintly at Bob’s antics as he tried to jab Clay with his pencil.
“Yes, well, you can kiss Bob and tell him you love him.” Dan shoved his hands into his pockets.
Carolyn didn’t move.
Dan studied her out of the corner of his eye. Something about her expression was - off. She didn’t look angry or frustrated, so she and Bob hadn’t fought. She looked utterly exhausted. The line of her shoulders and the way she rested against the doorframe spoke of a bone-deep tiredness that not even a good night’s sleep would cure.
“Is everything all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
Dan glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot, then lowered his voice. “I mean, is everything all right?”
Carolyn turned to him sharply. “What makes you ask?”
“You look - like a soldier who’s just waiting for the enemy to come and kill him.”
“They don’t want to kill me,” she said, turning back to watch the other three.
Dan straightened up. “Are they coming to kill him?”
Carolyn sighed, pushed herself upright. “You should get your homework done. I’ll see you in the a.m.” She started forward, but Dan caught her by the arm.
“Are they coming to kill my brother?”
Something in Carolyn’s eyes fractured. “No, no. They don’t want to kill him. They want to take him. It’s my job to stop them.”
“And if they do take him?”
“Good night, Dan.”
Carolyn stepped into the room, and her entire posture changed. The weight of the world she’d been wearing slipped off her shoulders. The other three looked up, distracted from their squabble, and Dan saw Bob’s face light up.
“Hey Caro,” Scott said. “You’re a genius - settle this math problem for us.”
Clay waved weakly, avoided her gaze.
Carolyn laughed. “I would, but I’m under strict orders from Shelley not to interfere with your homework. I just came to say goodnight - we’re pulling out early tomorrow.”
“How early is early?” Scott asked.
“You four will get all your beauty sleep, so don’t worry.” Carolyn leaned over and kissed Bob on the cheek, the gesture discreet, but Clay and Scott turned away politely anyway. “See you tomorrow, Robbie.”
“’Night, Caro,” he said.
Dan watched the entire exchange, horrified by Carolyn’s deception in a way he never had been before. Would Bob even have a tomorrow?
Bob glanced at his other two brothers, who were suddenly very involved in their math, and then he tugged Carolyn in for a real kiss. When they parted, Dan saw his brother mouth the words,
“I love you.”
Dan wasn’t sure whether Carolyn said it back.
(489 words)
Your Sympathy
I picked up my guitar and wandered out to the balcony. Everyone else was asleep; however, I had slowly traded the day for the night. The stars were comforting because they had nothing left to do but shine. They would listen when no other would.
I strummed aimlessly, trying to find a song inside of me that matched how I felt in that moment. What did I feel? Hopeless. Estranged. Careless. Alone.
It was strange, the way he silently sympathized from across the room - how we could lock gazes and instantly know what the other was thinking. It was frightening sometimes, because usually he was the last person I wanted inside my head. It was a bizarre camaraderie, neither of us getting what we wanted.
Stranger than your sympathy
And this is my apology
I’m killing myself from the inside out
And all my fears have pushed you out
I continued to sing, but with every phrase I carried out, the tears threatened to take my voice away. I had become so lost in the words that I hadn’t heard him open the sliding door. I didn’t recover until I felt his hand on my shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” He really looked at me then, noticing the wetness on my face. His brow furrowed with concern, and I turned away.
“I think you know.” That was all I could manage at this point. My hands were shaking and I felt him move closer and closer.
“Will you finish your song?” He smiled at me, in the way he knew struck me at my very core. I gripped my guitar and kept playing.
Stranger than your sympathy
All these thoughts you stole from me
I'm not sure where I belong
Nowhere's home and I'm all wrong
I let the last chord speak for itself. I turned to look at him and suddenly his lips were on mine and the whole world had been turned upside down. I felt the blood rush through my veins, my entire body now shaking with adrenaline. Our lips parted, but we lingered a little longer than we should have.
“Why did you…” That was the only question I had left.
He looked at me, smiling, but his face was tainted with sadness. “I just wanted to know what it felt like.” He stood up without another word and went back inside.
This was the end.
(403 words)
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
All Gone
Days off mid-tour were heaven-sent. As much as Bob and the others loved playing live, the constant energy necessary for photo shoots, interviews, appearances, and concerts was draining. Tomorrow meant twenty-four hours of freedom, and Bob planned on savouring every one.
“We’re going to a club. Wanna come with?” Clay paused by the door.
Bob flopped back on the bed. “I’m beat. I don’t know how you two do it.”
“Scott and I are love machines, man.” Clay grinned and flashed him a thumbs up. “See you in the morning!” And he left.
Dan poked his head into the room. “I’m going to the lobby to do my homework. Later.”
The lobby had a baby grand piano. Bob knew precisely what kind of ‘homework’ his brother was doing. He closed his eyes.
“You look tired,” Carolyn said. She was leaning against the doorframe, still in her crew uniform.
Bob lit up. “Not too tired for company. Wanna watch a movie?”
Carolyn kicked off her shoes and climbed up onto the bed beside him. “You speak German?”
He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You could translate for me.”
She wound an arm around his shoulders, kissed him back. “I could. But that’s no fun.”
“I sing for you sometimes,” Bob pointed out.
Carolyn kissed him again. “Now that sounds fun.”
“I’ve been singing all night.”
"I've been translating all night."
“Touché.”
“And here I thought you were learning Spanish.” Carolyn smiled.
Bob wrapped an arm around her waist, tugged her back against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder so he could whisper in her ear.
“It’s just us.”
She whispered back. “I know.”
He sang softly, "Baby, let’s do something we’ve never done. We’ll break a few rules and we’ll bend some.”
Carolyn turned to look at him. Her dark eyes were wide. “Robert?”
He wound his other arm around her waist and kissed her again, soft, questioning. Carolyn pulled back, searched his gaze. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her throat. Her breath hitched, and he could feel her pulse fluttering.
He whispered against her skin, “We can take our time, take it on, take it all in till it’s all gone.”
She turned and pressed herself against him. They kissed, deeply, all open mouths and twining tongues.
Bob reached out and fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand. “All gone,” he whispered, and the light went out.
(408 words; I confess, I don't always go for the subtle undertones of a song)
“We’re going to a club. Wanna come with?” Clay paused by the door.
Bob flopped back on the bed. “I’m beat. I don’t know how you two do it.”
“Scott and I are love machines, man.” Clay grinned and flashed him a thumbs up. “See you in the morning!” And he left.
Dan poked his head into the room. “I’m going to the lobby to do my homework. Later.”
The lobby had a baby grand piano. Bob knew precisely what kind of ‘homework’ his brother was doing. He closed his eyes.
“You look tired,” Carolyn said. She was leaning against the doorframe, still in her crew uniform.
Bob lit up. “Not too tired for company. Wanna watch a movie?”
Carolyn kicked off her shoes and climbed up onto the bed beside him. “You speak German?”
He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “You could translate for me.”
She wound an arm around his shoulders, kissed him back. “I could. But that’s no fun.”
“I sing for you sometimes,” Bob pointed out.
Carolyn kissed him again. “Now that sounds fun.”
“I’ve been singing all night.”
"I've been translating all night."
“Touché.”
“And here I thought you were learning Spanish.” Carolyn smiled.
Bob wrapped an arm around her waist, tugged her back against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder so he could whisper in her ear.
“It’s just us.”
She whispered back. “I know.”
He sang softly, "Baby, let’s do something we’ve never done. We’ll break a few rules and we’ll bend some.”
Carolyn turned to look at him. Her dark eyes were wide. “Robert?”
He wound his other arm around her waist and kissed her again, soft, questioning. Carolyn pulled back, searched his gaze. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her throat. Her breath hitched, and he could feel her pulse fluttering.
He whispered against her skin, “We can take our time, take it on, take it all in till it’s all gone.”
She turned and pressed herself against him. They kissed, deeply, all open mouths and twining tongues.
Bob reached out and fumbled for the lamp on the nightstand. “All gone,” he whispered, and the light went out.
(408 words; I confess, I don't always go for the subtle undertones of a song)
Escape
Steve whistled aimlessly as he sauntered down the hall in the science building, he had a few hours before his next class and he was just killing time. He didn't notice the pretty girl with pale blond hair hurrying down the hall towards him, darting glances behind her. He was pulled off balance as the girl grabbed his arm, tugging him along with her.
"Hey," Steve began, but was cut off when the girl backed him up against the wall and glued her face to his. Shocked, Steve pushed her away from him, "now wait a second," he tried to get out.
"I'll explain in a muinute," the girl said quickly and kissed him again.
Steves mind fuzzed and seemed to go blank, all that was preasant was sensation and he began to kiss her back, quickly warming to the situation.
The girl broke off the kiss the second time, pulling away and smiling shyly, "I'm sorry, I needed to get away from someone. I thought that if he saw me kissing someone else, he would leave me alone," she finished, turning a brighter red.
Steve swallowed hard, trying to reorder his thoughts. "Well, anytime you need to escape, just let me know," he finally said, a silly grin spreading across his face.
"Thank you," she paused to wait for his name.
"Steven," Steve said.
"Steven," She nodded, "thank you Steven."
"You're welcome,"
"Bethany," The girl said.
"It was nice to meet you Bethany," Steve said as he pulled out a piece of paper from his binder. He quickly wrote down his number and handed it to Bethany.
"Thank you again Steven," Bethany said as she turned away. She would be keeping his number and if she ever got over her embarrasment, she would be giving him a call.
"Hey," Steve began, but was cut off when the girl backed him up against the wall and glued her face to his. Shocked, Steve pushed her away from him, "now wait a second," he tried to get out.
"I'll explain in a muinute," the girl said quickly and kissed him again.
Steves mind fuzzed and seemed to go blank, all that was preasant was sensation and he began to kiss her back, quickly warming to the situation.
The girl broke off the kiss the second time, pulling away and smiling shyly, "I'm sorry, I needed to get away from someone. I thought that if he saw me kissing someone else, he would leave me alone," she finished, turning a brighter red.
Steve swallowed hard, trying to reorder his thoughts. "Well, anytime you need to escape, just let me know," he finally said, a silly grin spreading across his face.
"Thank you," she paused to wait for his name.
"Steven," Steve said.
"Steven," She nodded, "thank you Steven."
"You're welcome,"
"Bethany," The girl said.
"It was nice to meet you Bethany," Steve said as he pulled out a piece of paper from his binder. He quickly wrote down his number and handed it to Bethany.
"Thank you again Steven," Bethany said as she turned away. She would be keeping his number and if she ever got over her embarrasment, she would be giving him a call.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
The Best Morning
It wasn’t the first time we had slept in the same bed. We had spent countless nights on his twin-sized bed in his old apartment, cramped and clinging to one another so one of us wouldn’t fall to the floor in the middle of the night.
Our first real purchase as a couple was a queen-sized mattress. We were too poor to afford a frame, so it simply laid on top of a box spring on the floor. I had put brand new red cotton sheets on it, and it had been there waiting for us once night came.
That morning, I woke up and rolled over to find him soundly sleeping. For a few minutes, all I could do was just stare in amazement. This morning, this bed, this apartment meant so many things to me. It was the beginning of our life. We were no longer separated by hers and his. Everything was now ours.
I put my arm around his sleeping form, which made him stir. He was always a light sleeper. He opened his eyes and smiled at me. I smiled back, moving closer. He mumbled, “Good morning,” in his still sleepy voice.
It was then that I leaned in and kissed him, trying to put all of my hope and joy into that one intimate detail. I pulled away slowly, and replied, “Yes. It is.”
(231 words)
Isn't About That
Clay didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it was natural to pay attention when one heard one’s name. He paused beside the instrument rig, curious.
“Are you sure Clay’s not the one?” It was Carolyn speaking. There was no reply, and then she said, “No reason. It’s just - I want to be sure. Because I’m committed to Bob, but if there’s a chance that Clay -- all right. If you’re sure.”
Clay’s hands curled into fists, and he swallowed hard. Impossible. She didn’t feel anything for him; that was damned obvious, given how she rarely talked to him and spent every moment she could beside Bob, protective and possessive and -- Clay shook his head and started to turn away.
“It’s just...” Carolyn sighed. “There’s a good chance he’s the one, and if he is, I don’t want to mess things up.”
Clay dug his nails into his palms and took a deep breath, forced himself to turn around. He had to walk away now before he did something stupid and hurt one of the most important people in his life.
But there’s a chance, something in him insisted. With the girl you love.
And he waited. Heard Carolyn say goodbye and hang up. He waited a beat longer to make sure no one else was around, and then he poked his head into the instrument rig.
“Hey, Caro.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Clay. What brings you slummin’ with the crew?”
“I needed to talk to you, but we have warm-ups in five, so I figured I’d swing by and see if I could secure some of your time post-show.” He sounded far more confident than he felt.
Carolyn nodded. “Sure. I’ll be helping John.”
Clay swallowed and attempted to smile. “Thanks. See you then.”
* * *
He’d rehearsed all through warm-ups what to say, what to do, every gesture and every breath. Now that he and Carolyn were standing behind a stack of backdrops, alone and cut off from the rest of the crew, every thought but one had vanished.
“Look, Clay, if this is about the other night, when I walked in on you and that girl, don’t worry. I’m not going to tell your Dad,” Carolyn said.
“This isn’t about that,” Clay said. His heart was hammering away at a mile a minute, and he was sure Carolyn could hear it.
“Oh. Then...what’s up?”
Clay caught her by the wrists, tugged her close, and kissed her. His eyes slid shut as soon as their lips met, and then a hand on his shoulder yanked him back.
Clay’s eyes flew open, and he saw Bob standing in front of Carolyn, protective, fierce. She had one hand pressed to her mouth and looked utterly shocked.
Bob’s hands curled into fists. “Clay Timothy Summers. What the hell?”
A lump rose in Clay’s throat, and tears welled in his eyes before he knew what was what. He pushed past his brother and ran.
(495 words)
“Are you sure Clay’s not the one?” It was Carolyn speaking. There was no reply, and then she said, “No reason. It’s just - I want to be sure. Because I’m committed to Bob, but if there’s a chance that Clay -- all right. If you’re sure.”
Clay’s hands curled into fists, and he swallowed hard. Impossible. She didn’t feel anything for him; that was damned obvious, given how she rarely talked to him and spent every moment she could beside Bob, protective and possessive and -- Clay shook his head and started to turn away.
“It’s just...” Carolyn sighed. “There’s a good chance he’s the one, and if he is, I don’t want to mess things up.”
Clay dug his nails into his palms and took a deep breath, forced himself to turn around. He had to walk away now before he did something stupid and hurt one of the most important people in his life.
But there’s a chance, something in him insisted. With the girl you love.
And he waited. Heard Carolyn say goodbye and hang up. He waited a beat longer to make sure no one else was around, and then he poked his head into the instrument rig.
“Hey, Caro.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Clay. What brings you slummin’ with the crew?”
“I needed to talk to you, but we have warm-ups in five, so I figured I’d swing by and see if I could secure some of your time post-show.” He sounded far more confident than he felt.
Carolyn nodded. “Sure. I’ll be helping John.”
Clay swallowed and attempted to smile. “Thanks. See you then.”
He’d rehearsed all through warm-ups what to say, what to do, every gesture and every breath. Now that he and Carolyn were standing behind a stack of backdrops, alone and cut off from the rest of the crew, every thought but one had vanished.
“Look, Clay, if this is about the other night, when I walked in on you and that girl, don’t worry. I’m not going to tell your Dad,” Carolyn said.
“This isn’t about that,” Clay said. His heart was hammering away at a mile a minute, and he was sure Carolyn could hear it.
“Oh. Then...what’s up?”
Clay caught her by the wrists, tugged her close, and kissed her. His eyes slid shut as soon as their lips met, and then a hand on his shoulder yanked him back.
Clay’s eyes flew open, and he saw Bob standing in front of Carolyn, protective, fierce. She had one hand pressed to her mouth and looked utterly shocked.
Bob’s hands curled into fists. “Clay Timothy Summers. What the hell?”
A lump rose in Clay’s throat, and tears welled in his eyes before he knew what was what. He pushed past his brother and ran.
(495 words)
Those Three Words
Ariana had waited patiently for the right moment; the right moment say those three important words to David, the right moment to show him how much she cared. It was a delicate balance that she tried to strike, clearly showing interest, while at the same time not making him feel trapped or pressured.
"Hey David," Ariana started, and hesitated.
David looked up from the History textbook that they were studying from. "Hm?"
Ariana took a deep breath and leaned forward, and gently brushed her lips against his. "I love you David," she whispered into the silence that followed.
David blinked in surprise, a smile slowly spreading across his face. He leaned forward and kissed her back, lips soft and gentle. "I love you to Ari."
"Hey David," Ariana started, and hesitated.
David looked up from the History textbook that they were studying from. "Hm?"
Ariana took a deep breath and leaned forward, and gently brushed her lips against his. "I love you David," she whispered into the silence that followed.
David blinked in surprise, a smile slowly spreading across his face. He leaned forward and kissed her back, lips soft and gentle. "I love you to Ari."
Monday, August 24, 2009
Mistake in Identity
Bryan looked up from where he was lying prone on the floor, half under his car, as Mark walked through the front door. He couldn't help but laugh at the funny expression on Mark's face, kind of dazed and shocked at the same time.
"What happened to you? You look like you just won the lottery or something," Bryan said as he scooted out from under the car, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. He looked at Mark, a little concerned when he didn't respond. Bryan waved one hand in front of his brothers face, "hello. Earth to Mark."
Mark blinked and looked at his twin, as if just realizing where he was.
"Seriously man, what's wrong with you?" Bryan asked.
Mark licked his lips and then pressed them together, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. Finally he focused on his brother, "you know, we really should do something so that people can tell us apart. Different colored wristbands or something."
Bryan laughed, "why's that? Did someone think that you were me?" he asked
Mark swallowed and nodded.
"Who?" Bryan pressed.
Mark looked a little guilty as he glanced at Bryan, "Sara," he finally said.
"Sara? What did she do?" Bryan asked, looking Mark up and down, wondering what his girlfriend had done to make his brother so flustered.
"She..." Mark began.
"Wait," Bryan said, realization dawning, "she kissed you didn't she."
Mark nodded mutely.
Bryan looked his brother up and down again, taking in how uncomfortable he looked, and started laughing.
"It's not funny Bryan," Mark said, looking more ill at ease.
"Oh my brother, it's hilarious!" Bryan said and threw an arm around Mark's shoulders, "Come on, you can tell me all about it."
"What happened to you? You look like you just won the lottery or something," Bryan said as he scooted out from under the car, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. He looked at Mark, a little concerned when he didn't respond. Bryan waved one hand in front of his brothers face, "hello. Earth to Mark."
Mark blinked and looked at his twin, as if just realizing where he was.
"Seriously man, what's wrong with you?" Bryan asked.
Mark licked his lips and then pressed them together, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. Finally he focused on his brother, "you know, we really should do something so that people can tell us apart. Different colored wristbands or something."
Bryan laughed, "why's that? Did someone think that you were me?" he asked
Mark swallowed and nodded.
"Who?" Bryan pressed.
Mark looked a little guilty as he glanced at Bryan, "Sara," he finally said.
"Sara? What did she do?" Bryan asked, looking Mark up and down, wondering what his girlfriend had done to make his brother so flustered.
"She..." Mark began.
"Wait," Bryan said, realization dawning, "she kissed you didn't she."
Mark nodded mutely.
Bryan looked his brother up and down again, taking in how uncomfortable he looked, and started laughing.
"It's not funny Bryan," Mark said, looking more ill at ease.
"Oh my brother, it's hilarious!" Bryan said and threw an arm around Mark's shoulders, "Come on, you can tell me all about it."
Mission Compromised
“Hey, Carolyn.”
“Hey, Robbie. What’s up?” She shoved her hands into her pockets and gazed up at him, curious. He’d sought her out while she was eating dinner with John, Nurse Marie, and Captain Lyle in the instrument rig, asked to talk to her after the concert, so here she was, standing in one of the backstage nooks and crannies.
Bob shifted nervously from foot to foot, and Carolyn noticed vaguely that he was still wearing his gloves. She was hyperaware of the noise around them, cataloguing who was running back and forth and where all the exits were.
“So, I wanted to talk to you.” Bob dragged a hand through his hair, and Carolyn realized he looked very nervous.
“Is something the matter?” Her job was to keep him safe, and she had to be aware of any situation that might compromise his safety. Her attention span kicked into overdrive, and she scanned her surroundings once more. Was someone following him?
“I really, really like you,” Bob said.
Carolyn smiled tightly. “That’s great, Robbie. I like you too. But you know that. We’re friends.” She glanced over her shoulder when an unfamiliar man wearing a venue security shirt walked by, and then she felt a hand on her arm.
“Carolyn.”
She turned to look back at Bob. He was looking back down at her, and something about his expression was odd. His eyes were dark, so dark they were almost black, and wide, as if he were afraid, but something about the set of his jaw was serious, determined.
He squeezed her arm gently, and said, “I really, really like you.”
She smiled again, more brightly this time. “I like you too.” Why was he repeating himself?
Bob slid his hand tentatively up her arm, and he was smiling, but his hand was shaking. “You really are still a tomboy, sometimes, despite the new skirts.” He stepped closer. “I like you, Carolyn Pierce.”
Two seconds before he leaned in and kissed her, Carolyn realized what he meant. Her first thought was, Oh no. Mission compromised, followed by, That feels good. Bob’s mouth on hers was warm and soft, and when Carolyn closed her eyes all she knew was the sensation of lips pressed against lips, her heart trying to climb out of her ribcage, the rough nylon and soft leather of Bob’s gloves where his hands were curled around her elbows to tug her close.
Bob pulled back, and his eyes were wide, full of anticipation. And fear.
Carolyn gazed at him for a long moment, scrambling to find words, but she must have waited for too long, because he started to pull away. She reached out, caught his wrist.
“Hey Robbie,” she said. “I like you too.” Her every instinct screamed for her to stop, but she leaned up on her toes and kissed him. He slid his arms around her waist, and for the first time, she felt like she’d come home.
(495 words)
“Hey, Robbie. What’s up?” She shoved her hands into her pockets and gazed up at him, curious. He’d sought her out while she was eating dinner with John, Nurse Marie, and Captain Lyle in the instrument rig, asked to talk to her after the concert, so here she was, standing in one of the backstage nooks and crannies.
Bob shifted nervously from foot to foot, and Carolyn noticed vaguely that he was still wearing his gloves. She was hyperaware of the noise around them, cataloguing who was running back and forth and where all the exits were.
“So, I wanted to talk to you.” Bob dragged a hand through his hair, and Carolyn realized he looked very nervous.
“Is something the matter?” Her job was to keep him safe, and she had to be aware of any situation that might compromise his safety. Her attention span kicked into overdrive, and she scanned her surroundings once more. Was someone following him?
“I really, really like you,” Bob said.
Carolyn smiled tightly. “That’s great, Robbie. I like you too. But you know that. We’re friends.” She glanced over her shoulder when an unfamiliar man wearing a venue security shirt walked by, and then she felt a hand on her arm.
“Carolyn.”
She turned to look back at Bob. He was looking back down at her, and something about his expression was odd. His eyes were dark, so dark they were almost black, and wide, as if he were afraid, but something about the set of his jaw was serious, determined.
He squeezed her arm gently, and said, “I really, really like you.”
She smiled again, more brightly this time. “I like you too.” Why was he repeating himself?
Bob slid his hand tentatively up her arm, and he was smiling, but his hand was shaking. “You really are still a tomboy, sometimes, despite the new skirts.” He stepped closer. “I like you, Carolyn Pierce.”
Two seconds before he leaned in and kissed her, Carolyn realized what he meant. Her first thought was, Oh no. Mission compromised, followed by, That feels good. Bob’s mouth on hers was warm and soft, and when Carolyn closed her eyes all she knew was the sensation of lips pressed against lips, her heart trying to climb out of her ribcage, the rough nylon and soft leather of Bob’s gloves where his hands were curled around her elbows to tug her close.
Bob pulled back, and his eyes were wide, full of anticipation. And fear.
Carolyn gazed at him for a long moment, scrambling to find words, but she must have waited for too long, because he started to pull away. She reached out, caught his wrist.
“Hey Robbie,” she said. “I like you too.” Her every instinct screamed for her to stop, but she leaned up on her toes and kissed him. He slid his arms around her waist, and for the first time, she felt like she’d come home.
(495 words)
I Could Save You
It was the third day.
We’d been locked inside the small room for that long. I couldn’t remember the last time I slept. I couldn’t sleep anymore. Not when the zombie apocalypse was a real thing, instead of something that only happened in my dreams.
I sat in front of the door, next to the young man that had helped us all to safety. The door was barricaded of course, but how long could a rusty metal pole hold out? We were the first line of defense, and I wasn’t sure if that scared me at this point.
The old man stood up, suddenly, making me jump. The boy (because that’s really all he was, a boy) didn’t move, but his grip on the shotgun in his hands instantly became tighter.
“Let me out.”
“Jerry, you know I can’t do that.” That was the old man’s name. I had forgotten.
“Well, why not? We’re not lasting long in this dung heap, and there are better places to be, like that big department store across town. At least they have food.”
“You know as well as I do that you’ll get shot the moment you approach that place. That’s why none of us went there.”
“Boy, if you don’t let me out of this room, I’ll kill you myself before they even get their hands on you.”
I had to dive out of the way as the struggle broke out. Everything was happening so fast. The shotgun flew across the room, going off and blowing a hole in the roof. Attracting noise. Jerry removed the barricade and was gone. The uproar was deafening. They had been waiting. Searching for us. Now they knew where we were.
The boy shut the door, but he forgot to get the barricade. It was too late. They were coming. Jerry had to have been dead by now. He had ruined any chance of us getting out alive.
The strange thing was, neither of us searched frantically for another exit, or screamed hysterically. It didn’t seem necessary. We were just staring at each other, huddled in the back corner of the room. I grabbed a hold of his hand.
“What was your name again?”
“Gabriel.”
“Gabriel.” I said it, letting the name roll off my tongue and hang in the stale air, because I knew it might be the last thing I ever said. The door was caving in by now, and there were so many. We didn’t have much time.
Gabriel turned my face towards his, almost as if we were in a movie. How ironic. The first one was getting through - I could see it out of the corner of my eye.
“Goodbye Maxine.” He had remembered my name.
“Goodbye Gabriel.”
He kissed me slowly, gently, and we savored the last few seconds of our lives. They were beautiful.
As we held on to one another, the world went dark.
(487 words)
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Project #39: Kisses
Ah, here it is, the dreaded romance moment. I confess, I'm terrible at romances, and let's face it, usually the most awesome-tacular part of a romance movie or novel is when the leading man and leading lady have their first kiss. So, let the kisses abound! They can be first kisses, last kisses, experimental kisses, save-me-I'll-explain-later kisses, or whatever you want them to be. (Like that manly-kingly kiss Viggo Mortensen gave a playing-dead Sean Bean in Fellowship of the Ring.) 100-500 words. Write away!
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