fleurmione; ten years past and the beach house still stands against the sea, lonely and paint stripped by the salty air
It’s been years since they’ve truly lived in the cottage. Cobwebs gather beneath cupboards, dust settles onto the furniture, enchantments for the day to day activities lose their effectiveness. Bill and Fleur had moved further inland–they needed space, Bill said–for the children.
Now, when Fleur visits the quiet house, it’s a solemn, sullen place. She doesn’t know when it became so depressed, so empty and deployed of life. In recent years she can’t seem to recall a time when the house felt happy and she wonders, had it ever been such a place?
Its only out of coincidence that she finds Hermione at it’s shore.
“You come here often?” Fleur asks, meters away from Hermione. The woman is sat on the grassy part of a large sand dune over-looking the ocean. Dressed in casual clothing with nothing but her wand beside her, Fleur thinks Hermione somehow looks as worn as the cottage.
Hermione turns to her, hair frizzled and wind swept, surprised etched into her eyebrows. “More often than you, I think.”
She doesn’t stand up to properly greet Fleur–though they’ve known each other too long to expect or be disappointed by such gestures. Hermione smiles and, like the house, even that expression is tinged with sadness.
“The wards must be wearying out off,” Fleur says as she sits down beside Hermione, uncaring about the sand that will inevitably make its way into the creases of her dress and undergarments. “Or else I would’ve come to keep you company.”
Hermione nods, looking forward into the ocean, “I suppose it’s been a while since you and Bill have visited the cottage.”
It’s said as an expression rather than a question, and thats how Fleur knows Hermione has visited the location more times than she has. “The children and work keep us busy,” Fleur sighs, “Bill and I were thinking of cleaning out the cottage so we could spend the summer here.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
Fleur hums, “Bill’s work will keep him for a few days before he can come to Shell, I’m it’s first visitor in a few years.” A gust of northbound wind pushes strands of brown hair astray and Fleur resists the urge to finger them back into place. Instead she asks;
“Do you come here often?”
Hermione stiffens, just barely, but Fleur notices. Her shoulders locks and a muscle in her jaw twitches. Fleur lets the silence draw out until Hermione conjures an answer.
“Once, maybe twice a month,” Hermione looks even deeper into the ocean, “it’s peaceful.”
Fleur nods. Doesn’t ask about Ron–because she doesn’t have to. Doesn’t ask about Hermione’s job or her children, or her marriage. She’s heard enough from Luna, from Harry, from Bill.
“Sorry,” Hermione speaks again, “I should’ve let you or Bill know.”
Fleur shakes her head, dares to wrap her fingers around Hermione’s elbow, tugs just enough to grab her attention and smiles when Hermione looks her way. “The cottage–and this beach–is as much yours as it is mine. You’re more than welcome here.”
She wants to say more, wants to do more. If she were younger and more prone to irresponsible choices, more of a hopeless romantic, if she were braver, she would have said more. Instead, silence drags on and on, until nothing else but the waves and wind could be heard.
“Do you wish things were different?” Hermione asks quietly after what felt like an eternity of breathing in salty air and watching the waves roll by.
Fleur thinks on her answer for half a moment deciding how she’d convey her feelings. “I wish…I’d kept this cottage from rotting away.” And that seems to have said it all–or just enough so that Hermione understood.
They’ve sat here before, ten years ago, where Fleur was a newlywed, and Hermione was newly broken, a scar barely healing on her arm, and they sat on the sand until Fleur could stand it no longer and she pulled Hermione into her lap. And she held her, she held her close and wished the pain away, and Hermione looked at her delicately with hopeful eyes and Fleur wished she were braver then, wish she’d done things differently so that Hermione could be hers–the way Bill is hers.
Ten years, and they teeter on the same edge, between easy, amicable friendship and the possibility of something more until whatever was between them had festered and rotted like the cottage until there was nothing but bittersweet emptiness.
They speak in half truths, dancing around this decayed, worn out regret, and Fleur is so, so exhausted. They’ve made their choices, in life and in mates, and it’s led them here still. To the same beach, the same house, the same want. She feels like a thread of her fate is bound to Hermione’s, as if they will always somehow come back to this house and this beach, and–
–Hermione takes her hand, all grainy with sand between her fingers, and presses her cracked lips against Fleur’s knuckle. Hermione sighs, breaths hot air onto her hand until Fleur can bear it no longer and pulls her hand away.
“I’m sorry,” Hermione says and this hurts Fleur deeper than she could have prepared herself for. Fleur shakes her head, denying–always denying–what could be hers if she only asked.
Fleur blinks away the tears, swallows the ball in her throat. “I’m sorry too.”
Nick has countless little names for Judy, and he seemed to come up with three new ones each day. Without fail. Judy has no idea how he does it. After all her parents called her like five names, two of which were terms they used on everyone.
Judy has her own names for Nick. She could just about count them all on her two paws. It’s not without like of trying however.
But Nick just churns them out like he it was his calling.
He uses ‘Carrots’ at least 85% if the the time. Since he’s the only one can call her that without getting kicked in the kneecaps, and he relishes it. ‘Fluff’ and ‘Sly Bunny’ are in close second. ‘Sweetheart’ and ‘Darling’ are used in more private settings and moments.
However, it just makes him calling her Judy all the more sweeter.
Nepeta sat impatiently in her hive, after doing millions of chores she was still a little agitated. Today would be the first date her and Terezi have, even if they have been matesprits for a few weeks now. They’ve both put it off till they had time, and well the time is now. Nepeta hopped up to check the time and shoo Pounce out of the hive, since Nepeta needed it for the night.
Unexpected seemed to be a word Mike was using a lot lately.
It was unexpected to be shot into space.
It was unexpected that he actually didn’t hate living there with the bots.
It was unexpected that Mike found the old footage of Joel and grew to like him a lot. Mike felt almost like he had a friend up here with him.
It was unexpected when the man Mike had never meet in person should show up to save the day.
It was not entirely unexpected when the Mad’s made sure Joel stayed, or that Mike and Joel became fast friends, then maybe more… One identity crisis and a few nights spent alone later, defiantly more than.
Laying together Joel wrapped around him like a particularly amorous octopus, Mike had never been more happy that his life hadn’t turned out how he expected.
Cursing you headed to Fili’s room. Thorin always sent you to wake up the other dwarves and it was tedious work. Have you tried to wake these stubborn beings? It was a mess of curses, threats and grumbling. Already Kili had threw his boots at you and bifur had yelled aggressively at you in dwarvish. Not having any hope with Fili you swung open the door and froze. Fili also froze, he was completely naked. Your eyes couldn’t resist and trailed over his body, lingering a little too long at his crotch before you blinked and averted your gaze. He quickly scrambled to continue pulling up his breeches. “I’m so sorry!!” You blurted. “Why did you just burst in?!”
“To wake you up! Why are you up already?” He folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “That’s a stupid question!”
“Oh god!” You covered your face trying not to rebuild the naked imagine of fili back into your mind. He started to laugh and you removed your hands. Even though he was laughing he was blushing a deep red. You joined in the laughter and he slipped his tunic on over his head. “You’ve seen me naked, I’ll just have to walk in on you later” he winked and you gawked. Slipping on his sword belt he smiled and strode past you. “I saw you staring” he whispered and now it was your turn to blush.
You placed the damp cloth on Kili’s forehead and stroked his hair. “Better?” You asked and he nodded. “Thank you” you stood up to take your leave but he grabbed your wrist. “Stay with me” he said in a rushed breath. “Kili I need to get you some food, I’ll be back” you shook free of his grip before leaving him to retrieve a bowl of stew and then made your way back to him. Kneeling down, you placed the bowl on the floor beside him and then helped prop him up slightly. “Here” you held the bowl and raised the spoon to his lips. He looked at you exasperatedly and you sighed. “Eat.” He reluctantly allowed you to feed him and once he was done you slipped under the blanket with him. “Right, I promise I won’t leave you, but don’t you dare cough on me!” He smiled and found your hand under the blanket. “I really appreciate this, I was scared it was something series I’ve been ill for a while now” you shushed him and ran your hand through his hair. “Rest now. It’s okay Kili, everything is going to be okay. I’m here.”
“I AM THE KING!” Thorin shouted and you balled your fists up. “NOT YET YOUR NOT. UNTIL YOU RECLAIM OUR HOMELAND FROM SMAUG YOU ARE STILL JUST THORIN!”
“I AM THE RIGHTFUL KING I HAVE THE ONLY RIGHT TO THAT MOUNTAIN!” You should’ve known better and held your tongue but he had infuriated you. “YOU STUBBORN OAF, YOU NO GOOD SHIT! THIS IS A SUICIDE MISSION! YOU ARE ACTING LIKE THROR!” You slapped him across the face and he stumbled back. “(Y/n)?!” Tears pricked at your eyes. “I CANT LOSE YOU AND I CANT LEAVE YOU SO I WILL HAVE TO COME!” This time you shoved his chest. “A SICKNESS LIES UPON THAT GOLD!” You went to hit him again but he caught your fists in his hands. “(Y/N)!” Looking at his worried expression you sobbed and fell into his arms. “I am not my grandfather” he whispered.
“Look!” You announced gesturing to your hair. Fili stepped from behind you smiling. The company were currently in the shire, seated out of Bilbos house. “fili braided my hair!” You twirled and the dwarves cheered. Thorin smiled and bofur called Fili over so he could do his. “No! I’m not a hair styler!” He replied sitting down and picking a tankard of ale up. Bilbo laughed. “I thought you would be able to braid your own hair?” You ran your hand over you hair and then crouched in front of bilbo, patted his head and ran your hand through his hair. “Are you jealous that your hair isn’t long enough to braid?”
“Why I never would’ve thought…that’s absurd…I-I!”
“(Y/n) do not tease tease master baggins” Thorin warned. You stood up and smiled down at bilbo.
When they kiss, when they finally kiss, it feels like the inevitable spring shower that follows a particularly harsh winter; warm and slow, stilling the air so that Anna’s world is reduced to a single defined point where the first raindrop had just fallen.
Anna vaguely thinks, there ought to be something terrible in her stomach. As she leans forward onto her tiptoes to meet lips with her sister, she wonders where is the ball of guilt, of shame and sin. And if this is truly a sin, Anna decides as Elsa’s hot mouth opens and her tongue slips past, that the devil could expect her in hell without an ounce of regret.
Out of the thousands of scenarios she’s played in her head, this is one she hasn’t imagined. Perhaps Elsa would kiss her in the gardens, pressed against the large hickory tree in the back as the guards stood ignorant. Or would Elsa kiss her in the library as she slept against one of the many thick tomes, stealing a kiss from her unconscious form so that Anna may confront Elsa later that night, tease her older sibling and return the kiss.
Oh how Anna had fantasized about those lips, that mouth that sang like a nightingale, kissing her in a moment of frenzied lust.
But when it happens, they are in the most mundane of places. Elsa’s room, dressed in only sifts and a moment before, Anna was laughing against the fireplace about whatever they’d been discussing. She’d thrown her head back, closing her eyes, one of those laughs that demanded to be experienced in full and when composure and vision returned to her, Elsa is so close and looking so fondly that Anna just couldn’t resist.
So Anna steps forward and finds that there is no fear or hesitation, that in Elsa’s eyes are warmth and only slight anticipation, realizes that Elsa has been waiting for this too, this moment where everything has slotted into place and nothing feels more right than to press her body, one of royal blood that only craves royal flesh, against her sister.
For added affect, listen to this or watch this (I prefer watching the live version bc holy fuck the passion)(this dabble actually has nothing to do with the subject of the song I just love it okay)
He was coming home today. The tour ended yesterday, and they were all flying home tonight. They were coming home. I’d had an old All Time Low song stuck in my head for nearly a week- “Remembering Sunday”- and no matter what else I listened to I just kept coming back to that song. I woke up with the tune playing and replaying in my head, I’d sing it in the shower, I’d hum it while watching TV without realizing it. I listened to it through earphones while I was getting ready to go to the airport. It was a late plane; nonetheless there were fans at the airport. I stood next to his mom, across from the barricades and security guards that held back the fans. I felt bad for the fans, especially since I’ve been on that side of the situation before, but the boys’s safety was most important. Whatever anyone could do to prevent mobbing was done. I was watching the fans and making silly faces for their pictures when I felt my phone buzz. Just landed, can’t wait to see you babe, Luke had texted. I took a sharp intake of breath as I read it. He was really coming home. He was really going to be back holding me and kissing me and looking up cute cat videos with me when we’re bored and watching School of Rock with me and the other boys on the weekends. He was going to be back to stealing my shampoo and all the covers and apologizing in the morning and attempting to make pancakes but burning them and eating all the bacon I’d cook instead. He was really coming home. I spent the next fifteen minutes not taking my eyes off the gate door. When it finally opened I gasped and clutched his mom’s arm. She shot me a warm, reassuring smile. I felt my heart steadily drumming against my ribs. The fans’s screams pounded my eardrums. When I caught sight of that blonde quiff there was nothing holding me back. I rushed forward, brushed past Calum and Ashton, and wrapped my arms around his torso, burying my head in his neck. Breathing in his smell was what finally drove me to tears. After months I could finally smell him again, not just faintly on the sheets or the pillows but on him. On the hoodie he was wearing as he hugged me back tightly. “God, Luke,” I sobbed out. I felt myself shake against his body. “I missed you so fucking much,” he whispered, holding my head against chest. He ran his hand through my hair and I shivered. “Nice to see you too,” I heard Calum say. I half laughed and half cried in response, retracting myself from Luke. “Hi Calum. And Ashton and Michael,” I said and waved to them in greeting. “Missed you Y/N,” Michael said. “Me too. I missed all of you,” I said, looking back at Luke. He smiled sweetly and kissed my tear stained cheek. Then he slid his hand into mine. I’d forgotten how marvelous holding his hand could be. On the way home I kept my face buried in the crook of his neck as he sat next to me. I never wanted to forget how he smelled again. He kept his hand on my leg, rubbing in small, tender circles, speaking little. It was obvious that he was tired because his movements kept stopping and then starting again, and I could tell his eyes would flutter closed and then back open. He insisted on having dinner, even though it was one AM by the time we got back to our place. We ordered pizza by delivery, and he barely had one piece before he fell asleep on the couch. We were sitting next to each other, and he curled into me and leaned his head down on my shoulder. I could feel his lungs inhaling and exhaling. He was heavy, damn was that tall, broad shouldered boy heavy as he leaned on me but I was just glad he was home. As I struggled to support him, a familiar tune popped back into my head. Started making his way past two in the morning… He was so adorable sleeping. So soft and cuddly. And warm. The punk rock kitten. “Leaning now, into the breeze…” I whispered the lyrics. I reached for a pillow and adjusted his sleeping form so that his head was laying in my lap, and I could look at him. Now this place seems familiar to him… I ran the pads of my fingers along his jaw. His mouth was slightly ajar and he was drooling. All I could think was that the world saw him as some sex god when he was playing on stage but he was just a boy who drooled and loved to cuddle and sing Blink 182 way off key with me. Just a boy who cried watching Disney movies with me and wanted me to get him Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles undies for his birthday. He was just this adorable little dork but he was my dork. My chest felt like it was flooding with emotion. “Forgive me, I’m trying to find…my calling, I’m calling at night…” I sung softly. I ran my fingers through his hair and watched his sleeping face. His chest rose and fell as quiet little snores emitted. That beautiful fucking dork. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” I sung softly, “but have you seen this girl?” “Are you singing All Time Low to me?” Luke whispered, eyes still closed, voice heavy with drowsiness. “Mmm, maybe, sleepy Lukey,” I teased, still playing with his hair. “Keep going,” he requested. “She’s been running through my dreams. And it’s driving me crazy, it seems…”
You make my head spin and my heart hurt when I think of you because it’s like the feelings in my chest take my breath away because you’re just a god damn masterpiece with those breathtaking eyes of yours and I really just don’t know how to say that you’re my whole word without sounding broken.
" Oh Me? I was just Enjoying the view" Dabble request for Silverwing26
It got done early! for your request of this. “ My headcanon says that Ciel has this beautiful round fountain on his grounds and Sebastian has planted a multitude of white roses around it for his masters pleasure. So prompt… Sebastian catches Ciel actually admiring these beautiful roses which he secretly adores. Ciel is suitably embarrassed. (proud little thing) Go!”
I kinda went..into a slightly different direction but…I TRIED! I REALLY REALLY DID!! So i hope you like it!
The site that met the butlers eyes while looking for his Master out in the gardens was quite…cute.
The Earl was laying on his stomach on the fountains ledge with a book that had been abandoned sometime ago as the earl stared at the roses that surrounded the fountain, a hand ever so often dipping and splashing in the water, his left leg up in the air as the right laid over the ledge just slightly.
The boy had been staring intently at the roses for so long Sebastian though one would explode from such a gaze, not knowing that Ciel had been imagining things while staring at the roses, such things involved snow, the small mountain of paper work he still had laying about on his desk and a shadowed rose that reminded him of porcelain skin of a certain someone whom he had been up most of the night with. Ah..Sebastian however..did not miss that shudder of excitement that ran up the boys spine, causing his bottom to wiggle.
While the boy was daydreaming about…..certain activities he’d rather be doing in that moment, but then a hand ghosted over his back, fingers brushing past the top of his bottom with a small bit of pressure, causing a small shiver to go through him and as the hand was about to grab his shoulder, he rolled into the fountain with a startled shout.
“ Oh my…Young Master? Are you alright? I was just coming out to retrieve you f-” “ DON’T! DON'T YOU DARE ’ Young Master’ ME!” The Earl shouted at the butler, doing a startling well impersonation of the demons voice as he started waving his wet arms about as he stood in the fountains water, his entire front was soaked, along with the entirety of his blue shorts, his jaw clenched once Sebastian cocked his head, a faint smirk coming upon his lips.
“ Truly My Lord..I have absolutely No idea what you’re going on about.” The Butler cooed, only to be met with a large splash of water, soaking the front of his uniform, “ DO not give me such an excuse!” Ciel snapped, “ Now, Tell me what that…that…gesture was about?!” He railed, Ignoring the scowl coming from the demon.
“ My lord i was just alerting you to my presence. Also, I must say,” He talked closer, unbuttoning his buttons for his tailcoat, “ I never would have imagined to see you out here, admiring the roses in such a way.” He smirked as the boy flushed once more, turning a slightly darker color of red, “ I-its my manors grounds! I can admire what i want!” He answered , watching the demon pull off his tail coat to ring out the lapels. “ And you do not alert you Master in such a fashion!” The boy yelled again, but was met with a chuckle when the butler looked at him, pulling off his waistcoat to also ring that out with his coat.
“ Well..if my lord doesn’t mind my honesty..It seems you were enjoying it..” Sebastian mused,turning his head to look the boy up and down, only for the boy to look down his soaking body to see the…
“ T-that is none of your concern!” Ciel spat out, a new embarrassed blush covering his cheeks as the growing erection showed through his soaked shorts and he began to try to make it less noticeable somehow, “ My My someone seems upset that I noticed something..” The Demon teased as he walked closer to to boy, scooping him up from the fountain, only to sit down on the ledge and sitting the boy on his lap.
“ Now then..since you have given my clothes a through, Why don’t we…” a hand traveling down the boys thigh, making Ciel arch up with a gasp as he was touched, pushing his face into the other neck, panting softly and moaning as he was rubbed.
“ Let us make the best of this then..and let me take care of your little problem..”
Thats the first thing they ask her. The first thing they always ask her. In truth, Hermione will never know if she’s “alright”.
She lost some part of herself that day, in the manor, maybe she lost the part of her thats “alright” and now all thats left are the parts in shambles, like stone rubble laying on cracked concrete, just little pieces of herself that will never fit right again.
It could have been anyone, but its Fleur because—well, perhaps destiny is real and karma exists, or perhaps its just the coincidence of a trillion and one particles colliding at millions of kilometers a second, and those just happened to bring Fleur to her.
Fleur doesn’t ask but Hermione says it anyway. “I’m not alright.”
And Fleur, by ways of the trillion particles forming the right words or because Fleur’s seen her oozing putrid black blood and screaming in agony, says just the most right thing.
She says, in a single breath, “and thats okay.”
“Will I be okay?” Hermione asks, in a tone far more childish than she meant.
“You learn to live with it.” Fleur says, “you just learn. And one day, some time from now, you’ll look up and think ‘I’m alright’.”
Pulling at the cotton string of her sweater, Hermione shuffles her feet, pushing them into the sand. Fleur twines her hands around hers, and Hermione can’t help but think how thin those fingers are.
“Do you know? For sure?”
Fleur shakes her head and sighs. “I don’t,” she says full of melancholy. “But I hope. For you. For all of us.”
“Sebastian…” The boy muttered as he was cradled into his butlers arms, whom was currently lulling him back to sleep with small pets to his hair.
Ciel had awoke an hour ago from a nightmare. And the first person he had screamed for was naturally, Sebastian. But what came to shock the demon slightly was when the Earl asked him to stay and sleep with him. And so here he sat, waiting for Ciel to go back to sleep, petting his hair, and every so often, whispering words of what he thought would be ‘comforting’ to a child. But finally, after another hour, The boy was asleep.
Sebastian debated getting up and walking away for a moment, until he noticed a firmly placed leg over his hips and the boy all but piled on his chest. Ah… Sebastian thought, letting a sigh escape his lips, This shall be difficult… Sebastian mused as the boy atop him began to snore lightly, pressing his face into the crook of the elders neck, his small breaths fanning the side of his neck, causing the butler to smirk Ah… What fun indeed.
Ciel had woken with a start the next morning, He hadn’t even heard the slight rustling of the serving cart that morning to somewhat wake him up from his slumber against the carpeting outside his rooms, in the hallways, But this morning he did not.
But once the blinds were open and Ciel felt it against his face, he groaned and turned over, ignoring Sebastian’s gentle voice saying “Young Master, it’s time to get up.”.
“Young Master? Are you even rousing yet?…Young Master?” Sebastian repeated, walking to the boys small frame that just snuggled back against his large pillows, pretending the butler wasn’t there so he could get more rest.
“Ah… I see… and here I thought you would of slept better… even though I slept here most of the-” “You what?!” Ciel practically screamed as he shot up from his 'dozing’ state. “Oh yes young master, You were quite precious to, draped around me like a sheet even.” The demon smirked.
“Y-you…I-I did no such thing!” The boy blushed, looking away as he folded his arms a crossed his chest and his news paper was set beside him. “Oh no Master, I assure you, you were… After all, I never tell a lie.” Sebastian smiled at the boy as the boy huffed in slight embaressment.
“Whatever… I would like my scones now…”
AH~ I hope you liked this~! I am sorry it took so long! Also a thank you to the darling glimmeringgoldenearl for help editing~!
Jaime had never seen fingers move as fast as Bart’s. Of course, he shouldn’t be so surprised. The dude was a speedster for God sake! But just seeing the way Bart had gotten so into the video game that Jaime had chosen was shocking. Like most people, Bart would jerk his hands to the right or left, up or down, as if it would help him in anyway. He’d stick his tongue out to the side in concentration, squint at the TV screen, and jump each time something went wrong. It was all kind of cute, to be honest. Though, it was kind of aggravating too. Bart had never played this game, let alone any other video game before in his life, and he was beating Jaime. BEATING him! How can HE beat ME?! Jaime thought franticly as he tried his best to find Bart’s avatar. Once he caught sight of him, he quickly loaded his ammo, ready to shoot, but before he had time to blink, Jaime’s screen was flashing in big bold letters, “GAME OVER!” Mouth gaping in surprise, Jaime turned to look at Bart who was doing a little victory dance on the floor beside him. “D-Did you just beat me?” Jaime sputtered. He shook his head. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to play!” Bart’s smile widened and he shrugged looking over his shoulder. “I’m a quick learner.” “I’d say…” Jaime muttered, dropping the remote and crossing his arms. He couldn’t believe Bart had beaten him! “Don’t get so mad, Blue…” Bart frowned, shifting his body so he could look fully at his friend. Jaime shook his head. “I’m not mad,” He sighed. Sneaking a glance back up to the screen, Jaime leaned against the couch. “Sheeh, Blue! Dontbesuchasoreloser! It was fun! Totallycrash! Let’s play again!” Bart was now on his feet, vibrating excitedly. “I’ll go easy on you!” Despite how much Jaime didn’t want to lose again, he could only smile at how happy the younger teen was. “Fine,” Jaime nodded, popping his knuckles. “You’re on.” Bart jumped up, punching the air. “Sweeet!” He quickly ran over to Jaime, dropped down in front of him, and squeezed himself between Jaime’s legs, laying the back of his head on the elders chest. “Let’s make a deal, ok? I win; we stay up as late as we can playing as many video games as possible! This is awesome! I don’t want to miss out! From what I hear from Rob, Halo is a lot of fun! So is Assassins creed, and Oh, what was it…Mod-modern war…” “Modern warfare.” Jaime finished, resting his chin on the top of the auburn boy’s head. “And ya, they’re all pretty…crash.” “Really?! Do you have them all?!” “Them and more.” “Dude, awesome!” Sliding his arms around Bart’s stomach, Jaime leaned down. “So this deal…What if I win, hermano?” Bart looked back at Jaime, eyes sparkling. “We call it a night and I save you from the pure humiliation of losing game after game after game.” “Now you’ve done it…” Jaime muttered, reaching for his remote control and starting a new game. Needless to say, for a boy who had never played video games before, Bart never lost a game.
My hands quiver when I think about touching your skin because the mere thought of placing my callused hands on something so beautiful stirs up an earthquake of emotions that can’t make their way out of my mouth.