< - ¿ cold ° fire ((for even ice burns)) ? - > (tsents) wrote in archiv_obscurum,
< - ¿ cold ° fire ((for even ice burns)) ? - >

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Hi! I'm relatively new here...I actually joined some time back, but I never posted and introduction or anything because...well...it was embarrassing not having anything to post. >.<

I'm on a series of pieces for my friends; I needed to jog my skills a bit. I asked them to comment if they wanted me to write something for them, and if they wanted anything more specific to say so as well. and here's the first one. I was really, really sleepy when I was writing this - finished at about 5.30 in the morning, in fact. Gosh...

So now. There are, admittedly, a few in-jokes in there, but I think it's easy reading anyhow. ...at least I hope so...>>;;

This one was requested by edgefire, Lu/me. Lu is her own, I am mine, no copyrights infringed as far as I know of, so there.
Rating? Ah, now wouldn't you want to know. Just go ahead and read it, for chrissakes, it's work-safe.
Notes: When Lu first told me the type of writing she wanted, I almost died. I was prepared with the following comment - "You don't know what you're asking for, dear...there are some places you know you don't want my mind wandering to~"

And then inspiration hit. Nasty, devious naughty inspiration. And because it's nasty, it may not be too nice, but here's to hoping it's an eye-pleasing brain-teaser.

Dammit. I had a love-hate relationship with the cliff road. The view was unbearably beautiful, yet this was a favourite haunt of would-be Michael Schumachers. Swerving just wasn't all it was cut out to be with hairpins like these, though, and right then I didn't give a damn about cursing the guy in the Merc with impotency and just as preferably infertility for the rest of his life. But still...one has to make sacrifices, I suppose, for mansions on mountaintops.

"You know that song you like? The one you said could make you horny, and you'd have sex to it anytime, anywhere, as long as it was playing? What was it, again?"

Despite the fact that I was probably cutting one-twenty, I had to risk a glance at my limpid nymphet. But she was all brown-haired green-eyed Alice innocence.

"Not like my demonette to ask me anything not Lu-centric in nature. So tell me...what colour the shrimp behind the rock?" Something about her today that I couldn't quite place my finger on made me evade a direct answer. Dry throat - I swallowed.

...not like I ever was straightforward with her. Maladjusted just untrusted rusted sometimes brilliant busted...

"Tell me! I'm not going to let you change the subject. Now quick!" Damn. No, that was her all right, all through. Know her I did, and yet ~ and yet it is within the rules that one plays hardest.

I couldn't be bothered enough to try deflecting her today. "Merril Bainbridge's 'Mouth'." Maybe there was something about me that day as well...who knows? It is in the face of fate that we are most careless.

"GOT IT!" She emerged from where her head had been between her knobs of knees, hair astrewn across her shoulders and face, with the triumphant air of a conqueror. The CD was out of its case and in the player before I knew enough to begin laughing. Three clicks of a button, and I was just bewildered enough to keep my eyes on the road as she pressed her hand on my knee and leaned over.

"It's about time," she mumured. That was about the time I laughed, I think. She'd taken me up on it.

"Forever young, love, how about it?"

The last thing I felt were her lips crashing into mine, her arms flung recklessly about my neck, pinning me to the seat; and the deviltry, oh the sheer deviltry in her eyes...

I feel like I've been blown apart; all the pieces here will fit to make you whole, and I know where they go~

Well, there you go...
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