Written for The 12 Days of Christmas, hosted by @loveinpanem . I don’t know which day this will go. Untitled, unbeta’d and subject to change.
Katniss tried her best not to betray her nervousness when her turn at the coffee counter came and she found herself face to face with the kind baker who always served her, the man who had so occupied her thoughts this very morning. His blue eyes brightened at the sight of her and his endearing lopsided grin made its appearance before he said, “Good morning! What will it be today?”
She unfolded the note and placed it on the counter, sliding it across the slick, black surface. She stared overlong at it, delaying the inevitable glance at his sweet face and broad, thick shoulders, the solid mass of arms usually dusted with flour, down to his wide, defined hands. For once, Katniss was glad that she was physically incapable of producing words. If she had been able to, the words would have climbed all over each other as they tumbled out her lips, making her look as idiotic as she felt.
He picked up the note and read it before glancing at her. “One toasted bagel with cream cheese. And one Mellark’s signature homemade hot chocolate mocha with whip cream and sprinkles? You’re going all out today.”
Katniss bit down on her lip and nodded, hoping her dark skin would hide her blush.
“One signature hot chocolate for the lady coming right up. But I have to insist that you stay and drink it while it’s hot. If you take it to go, it’s not going to taste the same.” He indicated to a table over by an antique bookshelf where a Bose stereo rested among a collection of eclectic Christmas bric-a-brac. “I’ll bring it to you.”
How could she tell him that she might run late to work if she stayed? She couldn’t - she could sign it but he wouldn’t understand. And if she wrote it all on the pad that she always carried with her, she’d just annoy all the other customers. If she was completely honest to herself, she didn’t want to leave the cozy, warm bakery, with its tinsely garland, strategically placed mistletoe and the sound of “Baby It’s Cold Outside” meandering through the spiced-flavored air on the honeyed notes of Michael Buble’s voice. So against her better sense, she nodded again, making her way in a daze toward the indicated table, happy to spend a few more minutes in the presence of possibly the most adorable barista in town.
happy holidays, friends! this is a really lame GRAPHIC, and i threw this together really quickly, which is why i MENTIONED how lame i am. i can make better graphics but i’m lame, and super lazy, and i can’t believe there are 1,200 of you already?!?! jesus christ guys. six years of writing my trash child rick grimes, and you’ve all been so wonderful to me. i mentioned as many people as i could, i love every single one of you, but if you’ve known me long i’m a scatter brain.
“Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project—published, submitted, in progress, for your cat—whatever.”
From a story about FitzSimmons (but mostly Fitz) and their teenage daughter:
“Yeah?” He crosses the room and puts the laundry basket on their bed, right next to her abandoned suitcase. “And what is it about a thirteen-year-old’s homework that you find so fascinating?”
She turns the tablet to show him, her smirk spreading into a full, ear-to-ear grin. Fitz is about to ask her what he’s supposed to be looking at when he’s practically blinded by it: a whole page full of hearts adorning names written over and over again.
Because it’s dark where I live and the stars come out early now. Stars in your eyes. Stars in the sky. Star jewelry or tattoos. The incomprehensible distance between stars. The only star in our solar system. The fact that we’re all made of the same stuff as stars.
Have fun! Write fic!
Anyone is welcome to participate! I reblog all stories tagged #xfwritingchallenge (don’t forget to put it in the first five tags) or @ me)
If you’re feeling blocked, block out an hour or a half hour. If you’re feeling extra blocked, Write Or Die is very motivational (the “try” button gets you the free web version).
Send me an ask if you need an extra-specific prompt, and feel free to write previous prompts.