Thursday, July 25, 2013

Shooting Stars

"I hate Nicholas Sparks. Sappy soap opera stuff."

"Me too. My mom watches movies based on his books while eating ice cream and sobbing like a baby. I just don't get his stuff."

"At least she gets the ice cream part right," he said as he licked the cone she'd prepared for him. His familiar pink tongue traced down one side and up the other over the cold vanilla and chocolate.

Her own cone dripped onto her bare thigh; she gasped and jumped at the surprise of cold meeting warm in the dark on the deck. He laughed and ran his finger over her skin to wipe up a taste of her strawberry ice cream off her warm flesh.

He slurped the sweet-tartness off his finger before leaning over and kissing her cool lips tasting of berries and cream.

Would it ever be like this again, she wondered.

Years later she thought of that night, when fireflies flitted by in the midnight blue over their heads like shooting stars.

She took a bite of her strawberry ice cream before muting the Nicholas Sparks movie, as sweet-tartness melded with the bitterness of salty tears on her tongue.
Copyright © 2013 Femme Malheureuse 
Words: 196
Originally submitted to fan fic flash fic - Week 26 
Prompt: Excerpt, The Notebook, by Nicholas Sparks

No comments:

Post a Comment