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lierdumoaI wrote a drabble. The fandom's X-Men -- spoilers for the first movie. Storm's thoughts as Sabertooth has her in the train station. Don't really have anywhere to post it, so I guess it's just staying here in my journal. Hopefully some X-Men fans on my friends list will appreciate it.
He was pale, I remember. Black eyes and white, white skin. Hair like snowfall around his shoulders. He was like winter.
Full of bad weather.
He wrapped his hand around my neck. He squeezed so hard. So hard. I couldn't breathe. I clawed at his fingers, trying to breathe. I thought that I could hurt him, make him bleed. I scratched at his skin.
I couldn't break it.
But then, everybody knows that brown and white don't make red. They make light brown. That was me. Getting paler with the fear. The way he flared his nostrils made me think he could smell it. The fear. I'm sure he could smell it.
"Scream for me," he said. He knew I couldn't. I couldn't even breathe. Maybe he didn't really want me to scream. Maybe he just wanted to make me want it.
I did. I did.
So I let my eyes go white. Let the power build in me till he could feel it though the skin of my neck. Till he could feel it. There was a clench in my stomach, an ache between my thighs. That ache -- it was building in me too. Like pain. Sweet pain. Old pain. Familiar. Not like the pain around my neck, where his fingers bruised. That one was strange. Newer.
He'd release me -- when all my power found release. I knew that. I waited.
I came. Brought the bad weather with me. I had all the seasons in me then. All the seasons.
He could have winter, if he wanted.
He was pale, I remember. Black eyes and white, white skin. Hair like snowfall around his shoulders. He was like winter.
Full of bad weather.
He wrapped his hand around my neck. He squeezed so hard. So hard. I couldn't breathe. I clawed at his fingers, trying to breathe. I thought that I could hurt him, make him bleed. I scratched at his skin.
I couldn't break it.
But then, everybody knows that brown and white don't make red. They make light brown. That was me. Getting paler with the fear. The way he flared his nostrils made me think he could smell it. The fear. I'm sure he could smell it.
"Scream for me," he said. He knew I couldn't. I couldn't even breathe. Maybe he didn't really want me to scream. Maybe he just wanted to make me want it.
I did. I did.
So I let my eyes go white. Let the power build in me till he could feel it though the skin of my neck. Till he could feel it. There was a clench in my stomach, an ache between my thighs. That ache -- it was building in me too. Like pain. Sweet pain. Old pain. Familiar. Not like the pain around my neck, where his fingers bruised. That one was strange. Newer.
He'd release me -- when all my power found release. I knew that. I waited.
I came. Brought the bad weather with me. I had all the seasons in me then. All the seasons.
He could have winter, if he wanted.
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Date: 2003-12-03 07:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-03 11:04 pm (UTC)I always liked Storm in X-Men. :)
I noticed something in your writing style though. It's a bit different than before...nothing big or bad. It's just more subtle I guess.
Is that intended or am I imagining things again?