Supernatural Fic: Lashes
First complete SPN fic...*gulps* Let me know what you think. (And where can I post this thing anyway? I'm kinda concerned about the fact that if you haven't seen 2.21, you have no idea who I'm talking about...)
Title: Lashes
Author: epeeblade
Email: epeeblade at gmail dot com
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: minor ones for SPN 2.21 "All Hell Breaks Loose" part 1
Category: femslash, angst, pre-series
Pairing: Lily/Rose (original female character)
Word Count: 1564
Disclaimer: I don’t own these character or the Supernatural universe. This work of fiction is not written for profit.
Notes: After watching 2.21, I felt like I had to give Lily a voice. Thanks to onci_dium and razorsedge74 for the beta help and hand holding. There is a reference to a character from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series in the beginning (Foxglove).
Summary: Lily wishes for a moment for better lighting. All she catches a glimpse of is a mess of dark curls and eyes so dark they were like obsidian, framed by impossibly thick lashes. "I'm Lily," she says.
They first met in the dark, sitting together at the last free table in a bar filled with music fans. Lily ditches her friends, not wanting to explain why she wants to come listen to Foxglove sing. The woman hasn't been heard from in years and Lily finds herself nearly vibrating with tension.
"You a fan?" The other girl at the table asks, drawing Lily's attention from the stage.
"Oh yeah," Lily grins. "I must have listened to 'slits of love' a million times."
"I thought I was the only one who still had that album!"
Lily wishes for a moment for better lighting. All she catches a glimpse of is a mess of dark curls and eyes so dark they were like obsidian, framed by impossibly thick lashes. "I'm Lily," she says.
"Rose," the girl holds out her hand.
Lily takes it, feels a jolt of something go up her arm. Her skin bristles with the contact. Rose has incredibly soft fingertips. "Can I buy you a drink?"
Lily is 21 years old.
***
The first time it happens, they're in the grocery store together. Rose is pushing the cart and Lily follows, picking up cans and jars and setting them down just as quickly. Rose is the cook, not her. She hums under her breath, happy to be doing something so simple together. It's been two weeks since she moved in with Rose.
The guy following them is an asshole. He makes a pass at Rose, who ignores him. Lily tells him to leave her girlfriend alone. She's not ashamed of who she is, not at all, even when Rose blushes.
He laughs and calls her a dyke, then tells Rose he can show her what a real man is like.
"Get away from me!"
Lily moves, anger a pit in her stomach. She pushes the guy away, her hand centered in his chest, t-shirt fabric rough against her fingertips.
He falls backwards, hitting the shelves of the supermarket, his eyes gone back in his head. She didn’t think she'd hit him that hard.
He's dead.
Lily is 22 years old.
***
Later, long after the police have left, Rose tells her it was just bad luck. "Guy's arteries were probably filled with crap. Total slimeball."
"What a bad time for a heart attack, though," Lily grumbles. "I don't want a criminal record cause some asshole chose the wrong time to die."
Rose flashes her a grin, pink lips wide. "Hey, you're my hero, now. Coming to my rescue like that."
Lily can't help but smile back. "Always." She leans forward for a kiss, pulling away just enough to feel Rose's long eyelashes across her cheek.
"You're so weird," Rose whispers, letting Lily stroke her jaw, fingers sliding slowly up the side of her face to brush softly against her lashes.
"That's not what you said last night," Lily teases, drawing Rose away from the door. "C'mon, you can put the groceries away later."
***
The second time it happens, Lily is in class, staring at a blank canvas, trying to decide what to paint.
"Still having trouble, Lily?" Professor Longman asks. He rubs a hand against his gray beard, looking as if he's contemplating her blank canvas. "Or are you thinking abstract?"
She gives him a half smile. She is surrounded by furiously working students, each with their projects mapped out, photos and clippings spread across workspaces, desks and even the floor. Lily has a blank canvas. "I have to decide soon, I know."
"Or you'll be spending Thanksgiving in the studio." He pats her on the shoulder. "Paint what you love, Lily."
She thinks about it, then grits her teeth and sets to work. The choice, after all, is obvious.
Much later, most of the others have gone and Lily has a pair of dark eyes looking back at her from the wet canvas. Longman smiles as she moves to clean up for the day and ends up slipping on Carly's magazine clippings.
"Are you all right, my dear?" he reaches out with a hand to help her up. She grasps it, all calloused and strong, and pulls herself up.
And it's Professor Longman who falls, eyes gone back in his head.
Lily is 22 years and 6 months old
***
Rose can't calm her down. That is weird; Rose is a psyche major and specializes in the calming down thing. Lily paces across the room, her hands locked together twisting her fingers until it feels like they'll never come apart.
"Lily, it's just a horrible coincidence."
"One person, Rose. One person is a coincidence. Two people die of heart attacks after I touch them? That's freakin' weird."
Rose sighs. "Lily, trust me, weird shit happens all the time. Your prof was old, you said it yourself: he stayed on long past retirement. Old people die, Lily."
Lily blows out a long breath. "I liked him, you know. He was a great guy, a brilliant artist."
"It sucks," Rose agrees. She leans forward to touch her forehead to Lily's, wrapping her arms around her.
Lily relaxes, runs her hands up and down Rose's back. "Thanks."
"Oh, that reminds me, I got you something." Rose steps away.
Lily reaches for her, feeling suddenly lost without Rose in her arms.
"Phi theta something or other was selling jewelry on the quad. I thought you'd like this." Rose digs through her backpack and pulls out a long silver strand. She places the necklace over Lily's head, the charm dropping into the hollow between her breasts.
Lily takes the medallion between her fingers. "I love it, it's beautiful." She's looking at Rose as she says the words.
***
She high-fives a classmate at lunch and he falls over dead. She chases after the mailman to get a package and their fingers brush together. He stumbles and collapses to the ground.
Lily runs away each time. She knows it's her now. But she can't figure out how or why.
The cashier gives her change, dropping a quarter on the conveyer belt. Lily touches the boy's hand when she goes to reach for it.
He lives.
Lily has just turned 23.
***
Lily is huddled in a corner of their apartment, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. She's waiting (dreading) for Rose to come home. She has been gone for the week, spending Spring Break with her parents.
Lily doesn't know how to tell Rose about Patches. Their cat had been the latest to fall over at her touch.
"Lily? What are you doing in the dark?" Rose flicks on the light. "Oh my god, what's wrong?" She hurries across the room.
"No! Stay back!" Lily screams. "Don't touch me!"
Rose freezes, dark eyes filling. "Who hurt you?"
Lily shakes her heard. "You don't…It's me, Rose, it's been me all this time."
And Lily tells her. Tells her about the mailman, Jimmy Lucent in the cafeteria, Patches, the guy who works at the Starbucks down the street. How she's learned to keep her hands to herself.
"Lily," Rose breathes. She bites her lip, looks lost.
"I know you don't believe me…but I couldn't take it if I hurt you too."
Rose drops her purse and comes closer, backing Lily into the wall. Lily clenches her hands into fists. She wants to hold Rose so badly, but she can't.
"I believe you," Rose raises her hand, fingers reaching forward to caress Lily's lips.
Lily flinches.
Rose pulls back. "It's just…your hands, isn't it? I can still…kiss you."
Her lips are soft against Lily's, they always are. Lily makes a noise in her throat. She opens, lets Rose caress her bottom lip between hers, lets Rose's tongue dart out to slip against hers.
Lily has her hands palmed against the wall. "I want…"
"Shh," Rose whispers. She steps back, pulls at Lily's t-shirt, lifting it over her head, careful to stay away from her hands. Lily unclasps her bra herself, letting it fall to the floor.
Rose sets a hand on each hip, fingers settling on the indentations there, her head dipping to rest between Lily's breasts. Lily can feel the flutter of Rose's eyelashes against the sensitive skin, like a whisper on her flesh as Rose presses a single kiss there.
Rose's hands come up, smoothing against Lily's flesh, causing tiny hairs to rise. Lily shivers, she wants more, she can't touch. She just feels.
She closes her eyes, feels fingers dancing across her aching nipples.
She leans back, lets Rose unbuckle her jeans.
She feels tender touches between her legs, warmth as Rose slides to her knees, lash flutters across her thighs.
She feels loved.
She nearly forgets, once, brings her fingers down to card in Rose dark curls. Lily remembers in time and pulls away, grasping her own hair, nearly pulling it out as she comes.
***
Later she will wonder if Rose really believed her. Sometimes Rose could be like that, accepting what Lily said for now, but intending to get the truth later.
Because if Rose truly believed, she should never have climbed into bed with Lily. She should never have let her guard down, falling asleep with a murderer in her bed.
Lily had fallen asleep turned away from her lover, facing the blank wall.
She wakes curled around Rose, her hand on Rose's chest, over her heart.
Rose is cold.
Title: Lashes
Author: epeeblade
Email: epeeblade at gmail dot com
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: minor ones for SPN 2.21 "All Hell Breaks Loose" part 1
Category: femslash, angst, pre-series
Pairing: Lily/Rose (original female character)
Word Count: 1564
Disclaimer: I don’t own these character or the Supernatural universe. This work of fiction is not written for profit.
Notes: After watching 2.21, I felt like I had to give Lily a voice. Thanks to onci_dium and razorsedge74 for the beta help and hand holding. There is a reference to a character from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series in the beginning (Foxglove).
Summary: Lily wishes for a moment for better lighting. All she catches a glimpse of is a mess of dark curls and eyes so dark they were like obsidian, framed by impossibly thick lashes. "I'm Lily," she says.
They first met in the dark, sitting together at the last free table in a bar filled with music fans. Lily ditches her friends, not wanting to explain why she wants to come listen to Foxglove sing. The woman hasn't been heard from in years and Lily finds herself nearly vibrating with tension.
"You a fan?" The other girl at the table asks, drawing Lily's attention from the stage.
"Oh yeah," Lily grins. "I must have listened to 'slits of love' a million times."
"I thought I was the only one who still had that album!"
Lily wishes for a moment for better lighting. All she catches a glimpse of is a mess of dark curls and eyes so dark they were like obsidian, framed by impossibly thick lashes. "I'm Lily," she says.
"Rose," the girl holds out her hand.
Lily takes it, feels a jolt of something go up her arm. Her skin bristles with the contact. Rose has incredibly soft fingertips. "Can I buy you a drink?"
Lily is 21 years old.
***
The first time it happens, they're in the grocery store together. Rose is pushing the cart and Lily follows, picking up cans and jars and setting them down just as quickly. Rose is the cook, not her. She hums under her breath, happy to be doing something so simple together. It's been two weeks since she moved in with Rose.
The guy following them is an asshole. He makes a pass at Rose, who ignores him. Lily tells him to leave her girlfriend alone. She's not ashamed of who she is, not at all, even when Rose blushes.
He laughs and calls her a dyke, then tells Rose he can show her what a real man is like.
"Get away from me!"
Lily moves, anger a pit in her stomach. She pushes the guy away, her hand centered in his chest, t-shirt fabric rough against her fingertips.
He falls backwards, hitting the shelves of the supermarket, his eyes gone back in his head. She didn’t think she'd hit him that hard.
He's dead.
Lily is 22 years old.
***
Later, long after the police have left, Rose tells her it was just bad luck. "Guy's arteries were probably filled with crap. Total slimeball."
"What a bad time for a heart attack, though," Lily grumbles. "I don't want a criminal record cause some asshole chose the wrong time to die."
Rose flashes her a grin, pink lips wide. "Hey, you're my hero, now. Coming to my rescue like that."
Lily can't help but smile back. "Always." She leans forward for a kiss, pulling away just enough to feel Rose's long eyelashes across her cheek.
"You're so weird," Rose whispers, letting Lily stroke her jaw, fingers sliding slowly up the side of her face to brush softly against her lashes.
"That's not what you said last night," Lily teases, drawing Rose away from the door. "C'mon, you can put the groceries away later."
***
The second time it happens, Lily is in class, staring at a blank canvas, trying to decide what to paint.
"Still having trouble, Lily?" Professor Longman asks. He rubs a hand against his gray beard, looking as if he's contemplating her blank canvas. "Or are you thinking abstract?"
She gives him a half smile. She is surrounded by furiously working students, each with their projects mapped out, photos and clippings spread across workspaces, desks and even the floor. Lily has a blank canvas. "I have to decide soon, I know."
"Or you'll be spending Thanksgiving in the studio." He pats her on the shoulder. "Paint what you love, Lily."
She thinks about it, then grits her teeth and sets to work. The choice, after all, is obvious.
Much later, most of the others have gone and Lily has a pair of dark eyes looking back at her from the wet canvas. Longman smiles as she moves to clean up for the day and ends up slipping on Carly's magazine clippings.
"Are you all right, my dear?" he reaches out with a hand to help her up. She grasps it, all calloused and strong, and pulls herself up.
And it's Professor Longman who falls, eyes gone back in his head.
Lily is 22 years and 6 months old
***
Rose can't calm her down. That is weird; Rose is a psyche major and specializes in the calming down thing. Lily paces across the room, her hands locked together twisting her fingers until it feels like they'll never come apart.
"Lily, it's just a horrible coincidence."
"One person, Rose. One person is a coincidence. Two people die of heart attacks after I touch them? That's freakin' weird."
Rose sighs. "Lily, trust me, weird shit happens all the time. Your prof was old, you said it yourself: he stayed on long past retirement. Old people die, Lily."
Lily blows out a long breath. "I liked him, you know. He was a great guy, a brilliant artist."
"It sucks," Rose agrees. She leans forward to touch her forehead to Lily's, wrapping her arms around her.
Lily relaxes, runs her hands up and down Rose's back. "Thanks."
"Oh, that reminds me, I got you something." Rose steps away.
Lily reaches for her, feeling suddenly lost without Rose in her arms.
"Phi theta something or other was selling jewelry on the quad. I thought you'd like this." Rose digs through her backpack and pulls out a long silver strand. She places the necklace over Lily's head, the charm dropping into the hollow between her breasts.
Lily takes the medallion between her fingers. "I love it, it's beautiful." She's looking at Rose as she says the words.
***
She high-fives a classmate at lunch and he falls over dead. She chases after the mailman to get a package and their fingers brush together. He stumbles and collapses to the ground.
Lily runs away each time. She knows it's her now. But she can't figure out how or why.
The cashier gives her change, dropping a quarter on the conveyer belt. Lily touches the boy's hand when she goes to reach for it.
He lives.
Lily has just turned 23.
***
Lily is huddled in a corner of their apartment, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. She's waiting (dreading) for Rose to come home. She has been gone for the week, spending Spring Break with her parents.
Lily doesn't know how to tell Rose about Patches. Their cat had been the latest to fall over at her touch.
"Lily? What are you doing in the dark?" Rose flicks on the light. "Oh my god, what's wrong?" She hurries across the room.
"No! Stay back!" Lily screams. "Don't touch me!"
Rose freezes, dark eyes filling. "Who hurt you?"
Lily shakes her heard. "You don't…It's me, Rose, it's been me all this time."
And Lily tells her. Tells her about the mailman, Jimmy Lucent in the cafeteria, Patches, the guy who works at the Starbucks down the street. How she's learned to keep her hands to herself.
"Lily," Rose breathes. She bites her lip, looks lost.
"I know you don't believe me…but I couldn't take it if I hurt you too."
Rose drops her purse and comes closer, backing Lily into the wall. Lily clenches her hands into fists. She wants to hold Rose so badly, but she can't.
"I believe you," Rose raises her hand, fingers reaching forward to caress Lily's lips.
Lily flinches.
Rose pulls back. "It's just…your hands, isn't it? I can still…kiss you."
Her lips are soft against Lily's, they always are. Lily makes a noise in her throat. She opens, lets Rose caress her bottom lip between hers, lets Rose's tongue dart out to slip against hers.
Lily has her hands palmed against the wall. "I want…"
"Shh," Rose whispers. She steps back, pulls at Lily's t-shirt, lifting it over her head, careful to stay away from her hands. Lily unclasps her bra herself, letting it fall to the floor.
Rose sets a hand on each hip, fingers settling on the indentations there, her head dipping to rest between Lily's breasts. Lily can feel the flutter of Rose's eyelashes against the sensitive skin, like a whisper on her flesh as Rose presses a single kiss there.
Rose's hands come up, smoothing against Lily's flesh, causing tiny hairs to rise. Lily shivers, she wants more, she can't touch. She just feels.
She closes her eyes, feels fingers dancing across her aching nipples.
She leans back, lets Rose unbuckle her jeans.
She feels tender touches between her legs, warmth as Rose slides to her knees, lash flutters across her thighs.
She feels loved.
She nearly forgets, once, brings her fingers down to card in Rose dark curls. Lily remembers in time and pulls away, grasping her own hair, nearly pulling it out as she comes.
***
Later she will wonder if Rose really believed her. Sometimes Rose could be like that, accepting what Lily said for now, but intending to get the truth later.
Because if Rose truly believed, she should never have climbed into bed with Lily. She should never have let her guard down, falling asleep with a murderer in her bed.
Lily had fallen asleep turned away from her lover, facing the blank wall.
She wakes curled around Rose, her hand on Rose's chest, over her heart.
Rose is cold.