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Edge of Thorns 2 - Pt 19Part 19
It's inevitable that this will keep coming up, no matter how many times I try to avoid it. Better to try again. Maybe one of the angels will back me up this time...
He braced himself. "No," Nathan said, looking down at the floor to avoid her gaze. "You... you look like my fiancée." He waited for the slap, like the one he'd received on Halloween. When nothing happened, he dared a glance up.
Enya was still staring at him, her eyes narrowed and lips pressed firm, but she said nothing at first. After another minute -- just before Nathan was about to say never mind and to forget he mentioned it -- she propped her hands on her hips and shook her head. "Okay, once is a bad pick up line. Twice, and you have some weird psychological complex. Explain."
Nathan grimaced, but at least he hadn't gotten slapped. Yet. "I'm... not sure how..."
"Oh goodness!" They both turned to look at Alton when he laughed. The devil had made himself quite comfortable with his legs stretched
Edge of Thorns 2 - Pt 18Part 18
I don't think I'll get much done in the way of writing tonight, and I should apologize for the way I left. Guess it is a good thing Alton did my work for me, even if I still don't like it...
The writer ran his fingers through his drenched hair, slicking it back. "Sterling & Son. I need to apologize to Alton."
Micah raised an eyebrow. He offered Nathan his hand and helped him to his feet, folding his wings back as he started down the sidewalk towards his car (which Nathan could have sworn wasn't there before). Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the writer quickly followed after him, watching silently as the angel's wings faded away and he entered the vehicle. Another, louder thunder roll prompted him to jog faster around to the passenger's side, not hesitating to let himself in. Before Micah could ask about his last comment, Nathan turned to him to elaborate.
"I got upset with him."
The angel rolled his eyes and started the car, pulling away from the curb.
pray into my collarbone
let your snake tongue slither
with the syllables.
i wish for soft-chested nights,
and the trickle of champagne down crystal glass.
poppy-lips, lull me to sleep,
nurse my coiling tongue with yours;
tap my scalp like a silent drum,
and wind my hair in between your fingers
like broken guitar strings.
(serenade me with the buzz of pollen in your kiss.)
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