MerMay, kinda #14

Fiction, Writing

This is it, my darling readers! The last of the old material! Well, all right, there are like four paragraphs in tomorrow’s update that are technically part of the old material, but other than that it’s all new moving forward! Fingers crossed for consistent updates!

The Arms of the Ocean, cont.

Once Marius had walked away from the table, Rilla set down her fork and put her hands to her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and hoped with all she had that her every emotion was not waltzing across her face the way it felt they were. Biting her lip again, she thought about the way he had looked at her. As if he wanted to consume her. It had been thrilling, somewhat intimidating, and had sparked a flame that she could feel in her blood. He had felt dangerous in that moment, which seemed absurd, but his eyes…there had been something in his eyes. She shook her head, took another breath, and let it out slowly.

“I can’t be making this up,” she murmured, and then laughed. Sitting alone at the table talking to herself was probably not the best approach. She turned her attention back to dessert, and picked at it slowly. She was off her appetite for want of something else.

MerMay, kinda #13

Fiction, Writing

Leaning back in the chair, Marius did not disappoint, smiling back at her, then motioned for the waitress and requested the check. Thus far it had actually been a rather nice evening, and his date was evolving into a creature that merited further study. He was a little surprised by her compassion – he wasn’t sure why it was surprising, maybe just in that musicians had a bit of a reputation for egotism. Or maybe it was because he didn’t open up in front of others, and so wasn’t used to the opportunity for compassion being present. It was likely that second one.

Smirking, he chastised himself a little as he watched her walk away. He really enjoyed the way she walked. She had a pronounced swish to her hips, not so much that it looked ridiculous but enough to appeal. There was something very unhurried in her normal, unthinking walk. As if she knew she would get there, and rushing wouldn’t make her destination any closer.

MerMay, kinda #12

Fiction, Writing

“Oh, god, why am I doing this,” Rilla asked her reflection as she pinned the sides of her hair up in a manner to frame her face without getting in her face.

“Because he’s dreamy despite the mixed signals,” Karin returned with humor. “Also, the fact that I don’t think you’ve so much as deeply kissed someone in a year probably helps.”