Thursday, 9 December 2010

Teaser/pictease for my new slash oneshot

I've been totally fail at using this blog lately, so sorry about that. I'm working on the next ICF update and have a bunch of other projects going on too, but in the meantime, because I'm clearly crazy, I also found time to write a whole new oneshot. It's Edward/Jasper, my first slash and I hope you'll give it a try. It's smutty but also emotional. It'll be up in the next few days. Pictease and teaser below:

I tilt the glass to my lips, savouring the taste: mint, cedar, spice. I drink it down, relishing the slow, sharp burn as the whiskey works its way inside me, searing away at least a little of the numbness. The hot, dark amber is soothing as it slips down my throat, and for a moment, I imagine that he's still here. That any minute I'll turn my head from the bar stool and see him smile at me, feel his warm hand slip into mine, and hear him order his usual - just a plain old beer. He never quite acquired my taste for whiskey, something I'd often tease him about. Now I'd give anything to have him here drinking his watered-down-piss beer and running a hand through his burnished copper hair; that nervous habit I always adored on him.

The bar is packed with drunken laughter and an air of happiness and contentment. It's just under a month until Christmas, and traces are everywhere: tinsel, the tree by the bar strung with colourful lights, the frost clinging to the window frame. It's the end of the working week, everybody coming together to enjoy the preamble to the weekend. This stings me more than it might, because usually, he would be here. We'd be sitting over in the usual corner with friends, laughing and talking as we let alcohol wash away the week's stresses. Even while absorbed in conversation with others, our eyes would meet from time to time in a silent promise of later. A promise of heated sweat-slick skin against cool sheets and hot, hard kisses as bodies, hands and mouths moved together.

Edward. My lips form the syllables of that oh-so-familiar name automatically, even if I do not verbalise them. It tastes harsh and bitter on my tongue, like unripe fruit or milk that's soured, a far cry from the sweetness it once held for me. 
Thanks for reading. xxx


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