Remember
Title: Remember
Series: Finding
Sub-Series: Firefly 100 series; follows Find
Rating: PG
Word count: 200
Spoilers: Post-BDM
Characters: Jayne/River
Disclaimer: Firefly owns me, I own words
Notes: A semi-autobiographical piece- life sometimes throws us a loop that eerily reflects the 'verse. Lyrics at end courtesy of Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah.
All Jayne/River stories are in the same storyline... Concrit=Air
Remember
Fear, terror, gripped tight upon her heart. Where would be the reason to support this? What was the logic? He was another breed, another past, an incompatible vision of the future; myopic remembrance of the contrasts.
He was beautiful, his eyes danced in the light through the glass. Lines defined a strong jaw, broad cheeks, a masculine face balanced by beauty. Short-cropped dark hair, curling lightly at the nape of his neck. A hint of soft darkness escaped above the collar of his shirt.
His scent; male, warm, salt, earth, spice. He could slip past unnoticed if her nose wasn’t searching for the faint heat he created. Smokiness with none of the acrid tang so common to burn. Subtle and yet tantalizingly clinging to her after he was gone.
Smooth muscles across his broad shoulders felt hard-soft under her touch. Skin dark and satiny. No math could define that. No logic could support close scrutiny. There was nothing to build from. And still her body betrayed her. Spoke to her of desire and want. Words filled her mind; want, desire, hunger. He filled that space. Became the shape that would satisfy it.
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.
Series: Finding
Sub-Series: Firefly 100 series; follows Find
Rating: PG
Word count: 200
Spoilers: Post-BDM
Characters: Jayne/River
Disclaimer: Firefly owns me, I own words
Notes: A semi-autobiographical piece- life sometimes throws us a loop that eerily reflects the 'verse. Lyrics at end courtesy of Leonard Cohen, Hallelujah.
All Jayne/River stories are in the same storyline... Concrit=Air
Remember
Fear, terror, gripped tight upon her heart. Where would be the reason to support this? What was the logic? He was another breed, another past, an incompatible vision of the future; myopic remembrance of the contrasts.
He was beautiful, his eyes danced in the light through the glass. Lines defined a strong jaw, broad cheeks, a masculine face balanced by beauty. Short-cropped dark hair, curling lightly at the nape of his neck. A hint of soft darkness escaped above the collar of his shirt.
His scent; male, warm, salt, earth, spice. He could slip past unnoticed if her nose wasn’t searching for the faint heat he created. Smokiness with none of the acrid tang so common to burn. Subtle and yet tantalizingly clinging to her after he was gone.
Smooth muscles across his broad shoulders felt hard-soft under her touch. Skin dark and satiny. No math could define that. No logic could support close scrutiny. There was nothing to build from. And still her body betrayed her. Spoke to her of desire and want. Words filled her mind; want, desire, hunger. He filled that space. Became the shape that would satisfy it.
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.