Sunday, February 11, 2007
Fiction Outtake: Hearts (Trevor's Song Days)
So far, it had all lived up to its promise: the island was beautiful, the house and beach secluded, the staff discreet, and the bed big and comfortable. So big and comfortable that despite its white sheets, it had been a shame to leave it.
But Mitchell had wanted to go snorkeling, and that meant Kerri'd had to go into town to buy a bathing suit, something she hadn't owned in years. Mitchell had warned her to choose a basic suit instead of a sexy one; when the band was touring, hotel pools were his favorite place to spend down time. A sexy suit would interfere with swimming.
While she'd been out shopping, she'd stopped and picked up a few sundresses, another thing she hadn't owned in who-knew-how-long. They were coming in handy, though, because when Mitchell's manager had given them use of the house for a two-week honeymoon, he'd added the condition that they visit his favorite restaurants. If she had to wear clothes at all on this dream vacation, Kerri thought, she was going to wear something skimpy and beautiful.
She and Mitchell were seated on a patio along the beach at one of the restaurants on the list, their dinner orders just placed, when Mitchell got up, left his Vans by the patio's edge, and wandered down the beach. Kerri cocked her head as she watched him, not sure what he was doing and itching for a sketch book. There seemed to always be a light wind near the shore and it blew his silvery-white hair across the shoulders of his loose black tank in a tantalizing way. Add in his camoflage cargo shorts and he was a hell of a vision as he bent to play in the sand near the surf. Nothing at all like a powerful rock star; just a regular guy.
She sat there, savoring, still wishing she had the means to draw him, until he turned and waved at her. It was, she could tell, an invitation to come see what he'd done, so she kicked off her sandals beside his black slip-ons and followed.
"What did you do?" she laughed as she got close enough to see.
"What's it look like?" he laughed, holding his arms out to show off his masterpieces.
"It looks like a bunch of hearts."
"Well, then," he said with a definitive nod. "Guess this is what happens when there's no guitar handy and I hear music."
"Looks to me like you hear hearts." she said, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He brushed her hair away from her forehead and kissed her temple.
"It's your damn fault, woman," he breathed into her ear, making her shiver.
"I think I'll take it."
check out more stories of love at Scribbit's cool site. Click here for the contest itself. And for more, visit Write Stuff around the 17th.
But Mitchell had wanted to go snorkeling, and that meant Kerri'd had to go into town to buy a bathing suit, something she hadn't owned in years. Mitchell had warned her to choose a basic suit instead of a sexy one; when the band was touring, hotel pools were his favorite place to spend down time. A sexy suit would interfere with swimming.
While she'd been out shopping, she'd stopped and picked up a few sundresses, another thing she hadn't owned in who-knew-how-long. They were coming in handy, though, because when Mitchell's manager had given them use of the house for a two-week honeymoon, he'd added the condition that they visit his favorite restaurants. If she had to wear clothes at all on this dream vacation, Kerri thought, she was going to wear something skimpy and beautiful.
She and Mitchell were seated on a patio along the beach at one of the restaurants on the list, their dinner orders just placed, when Mitchell got up, left his Vans by the patio's edge, and wandered down the beach. Kerri cocked her head as she watched him, not sure what he was doing and itching for a sketch book. There seemed to always be a light wind near the shore and it blew his silvery-white hair across the shoulders of his loose black tank in a tantalizing way. Add in his camoflage cargo shorts and he was a hell of a vision as he bent to play in the sand near the surf. Nothing at all like a powerful rock star; just a regular guy.
She sat there, savoring, still wishing she had the means to draw him, until he turned and waved at her. It was, she could tell, an invitation to come see what he'd done, so she kicked off her sandals beside his black slip-ons and followed.
"What did you do?" she laughed as she got close enough to see.
"What's it look like?" he laughed, holding his arms out to show off his masterpieces.
"It looks like a bunch of hearts."
"Well, then," he said with a definitive nod. "Guess this is what happens when there's no guitar handy and I hear music."
"Looks to me like you hear hearts." she said, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He brushed her hair away from her forehead and kissed her temple.
"It's your damn fault, woman," he breathed into her ear, making her shiver.
"I think I'll take it."
check out more stories of love at Scribbit's cool site. Click here for the contest itself. And for more, visit Write Stuff around the 17th.
Labels: creative writing, fiction, hearts, Kerri, love, Mitchell, outtake
Comments:
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Thanks, Joely! I actually wrote it for a carnival/contest sort of thing, then realized it fit a few others.
It's one of those scenes that's been with me a long time. It was happy to finally get some glory.
It's one of those scenes that's been with me a long time. It was happy to finally get some glory.
this was so touching... i found it thru weekend wordsmith... i haven't written mine yet... but i will be around....
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