Of Mornings and Meetings in the Park
Aug. 1st, 2007 02:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cutthroatpixieTitle: Of Mornings and Meetings in the Park
Author: McKenzie
Pairing: Selene/Jeremy (hints at Selene/Benjamin Narcyz, Jeremy/Benjamin)
Prompt: #10- Strangers
Rating: PG
Author: McKenzie
Pairing: Selene/Jeremy (hints at Selene/Benjamin Narcyz, Jeremy/Benjamin)
Prompt: #10- Strangers
Rating: PG
She’s found her way into his bed again, he notices. Not in that sort of way, oh no. She was probably cold (lonely) and just snuck her way under his blankets, snuck her arms around his, and that was where they ended up, a totally platonic mesh of limbs. He laughed as that phrasing entered his mind, and pushed her off him.
“You,” she says sleepily, rolling off his legs. “You are a terrible, horrible, no good, bad person.” She says it the same way any other person would tell a friend their new haircut looked nice. That’s how all her insults came out, unless she actually meant them. Those cases were another story all together. She stands, her bare back making itself known to the world as the sheets slide off her form, and gathers her things (why are they in his room?) as if to get ready for the day.
“Are we going somewhere?” He asks. Actually getting dressed did not require anything be happening that day, but he glanced at the clock and it was so early, and he could not imagine why she did not just go back to her own room for a few more hours of uninterrupted slumber.
“Out,” she says simply as she runs a comb through her thick blonde hair. “I am going out, you are coming with me, and we are going to find something to do because you have been cooped up in this house far too long.” Her voice holds a tone of finality, as if telling him he has no say in the matter. Which he doesn’t, he muses. She goes wherever she happens to go and, whether willingly or not, he goes with her because, really, who else does he have to lead him along?
They get their clothes on, she does her make up (though she’d look much better without it, he thinks), and they make their way off to wherever she feels like taking them today. She seems to feel like going to the park this morning, so they go to the park. She feels like sitting on a bench by a pond, and so they sit on a bench by a pond. This place has a name, and she knows it, but he doesn’t and she doesn’t care that he doesn’t because he wouldn’t care even if she told him.
She grins wickedly at some boy, attempting to coax him over with a gentle beckoning gesture, and the boy happily obliges her silent request. She casts a grin in his direction and he immediately knows what she has planned for this boy. Another bedmate, he supposes. At least she’ll stay out of his bed for at least a few nights.
The boy gets closer, and he can’t help but look at him in a way he’s only ever cared to look at very few before now. He is drawn to him, though he knows not why. No doubt for reasons similar to hers, this boy is quite alluring.
“Hi,” the boy says, standing right in front of them. His voice speaks of confidence, of handsome, gorgeous self-assurance.
She smiles at him, the one she uses only on her conquests, and asks him his name.
“Benjamin Narcyz,” he says, grasping her hand in his. “Call me Ben. And what is your name?”
“Selene Martin. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ben. I do hope we can become fast friends.”
He thinks he hopes this too, if only because he thinks he can stare into those eyes for quite some time without getting bored. Maybe once Selene is through with this boy, he can have a go at him, if only because it has been far too long since he’s had any sort of human contact outside of her.
“You,” she says sleepily, rolling off his legs. “You are a terrible, horrible, no good, bad person.” She says it the same way any other person would tell a friend their new haircut looked nice. That’s how all her insults came out, unless she actually meant them. Those cases were another story all together. She stands, her bare back making itself known to the world as the sheets slide off her form, and gathers her things (why are they in his room?) as if to get ready for the day.
“Are we going somewhere?” He asks. Actually getting dressed did not require anything be happening that day, but he glanced at the clock and it was so early, and he could not imagine why she did not just go back to her own room for a few more hours of uninterrupted slumber.
“Out,” she says simply as she runs a comb through her thick blonde hair. “I am going out, you are coming with me, and we are going to find something to do because you have been cooped up in this house far too long.” Her voice holds a tone of finality, as if telling him he has no say in the matter. Which he doesn’t, he muses. She goes wherever she happens to go and, whether willingly or not, he goes with her because, really, who else does he have to lead him along?
They get their clothes on, she does her make up (though she’d look much better without it, he thinks), and they make their way off to wherever she feels like taking them today. She seems to feel like going to the park this morning, so they go to the park. She feels like sitting on a bench by a pond, and so they sit on a bench by a pond. This place has a name, and she knows it, but he doesn’t and she doesn’t care that he doesn’t because he wouldn’t care even if she told him.
She grins wickedly at some boy, attempting to coax him over with a gentle beckoning gesture, and the boy happily obliges her silent request. She casts a grin in his direction and he immediately knows what she has planned for this boy. Another bedmate, he supposes. At least she’ll stay out of his bed for at least a few nights.
The boy gets closer, and he can’t help but look at him in a way he’s only ever cared to look at very few before now. He is drawn to him, though he knows not why. No doubt for reasons similar to hers, this boy is quite alluring.
“Hi,” the boy says, standing right in front of them. His voice speaks of confidence, of handsome, gorgeous self-assurance.
She smiles at him, the one she uses only on her conquests, and asks him his name.
“Benjamin Narcyz,” he says, grasping her hand in his. “Call me Ben. And what is your name?”
“Selene Martin. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ben. I do hope we can become fast friends.”
He thinks he hopes this too, if only because he thinks he can stare into those eyes for quite some time without getting bored. Maybe once Selene is through with this boy, he can have a go at him, if only because it has been far too long since he’s had any sort of human contact outside of her.
