Les Miserables - 100 wds.
(for this prompt at gleamswhichpass)
A soft kiss, and another, and a third - the seeds of passion barely sown, but just when Jehan is wishing for more, the clock's hands slap out a brisk midnight twelve, and Courfeyrac (that smug, contrary, beautiful tomcat) is gone in a moment and another whirlwind kiss, leaving Prouvaire alone in his room, looking out the window. The lexicon of Paris at midnight is full of such words as 'betrayal', 'broken-hearted', and 'bereft' - the poet's grief is nothing new to the jaded city, and nothing new in the verses that take Courfeyrac's place upon his lips.
A soft kiss, and another, and a third - the seeds of passion barely sown, but just when Jehan is wishing for more, the clock's hands slap out a brisk midnight twelve, and Courfeyrac (that smug, contrary, beautiful tomcat) is gone in a moment and another whirlwind kiss, leaving Prouvaire alone in his room, looking out the window. The lexicon of Paris at midnight is full of such words as 'betrayal', 'broken-hearted', and 'bereft' - the poet's grief is nothing new to the jaded city, and nothing new in the verses that take Courfeyrac's place upon his lips.