Brother, can you spare a word?

[mylittleredgirl]

Please comment with one word. (Scrabble rules do not apply - the word can be a person, place, or slang.)

I will write a drabble-ish length reply. It might be fic, it might be original, it might be memory, might be, I don't know, a definition? A recipe? A made-up word origin?

I promised last night that I would make art every chance I get and am having a bit of a hard time getting started when hulu is right there with ten thousand shows I don't need to watch.

Help? :)

(p.s. if you want to do this exercise too, I promise to give you a word!)

Comments

Kissing - RPF torri/joe :)

[mylittleredgirl.livejournal.com]

She expects it to feel like stage kissing – no tongue, no organic emotion, thinking about other people.

When he kisses her in the backseat of Jason's SUV it would look terrible on camera – no lighting. No motivation, besides alcohol, and something emotional in him that has made him rage around their fun evening like the world's on fire.

He uses tongue, and she's not thinking about anyone else.

It's unexplained, but goes on for minute. The others are outside arguing about where to go next and who's too drunk to drive, and Torri's grateful she didn't put a seatbelt on yet as she slides down the chair to make room for his hands and his body, pushing against hers.

She gasps out a word, intending it to be more, and it comes out stop. He does, and she wants to take it back, because when he was kissing her, they weren't thinking. It was just the two of them. No lives, no rules. No script.

He doesn't meet her eyes, and he's breathing so heavily she can see his chest heaving, even in the dark of the car. "I had to see," he says, like it's an explanation.

They ignore each other the rest of the night, and drink far too much. They go home separately. She thinks she might have imagined it – she's imagined it before, but in a two-dimensional way, like they're kissing on the set.

It isn't until she gets home, Rachel having bought her a cab and given the driver directions, that she starts shaking, like the inside of her chest is coming apart under seismic stress.

Her phone rings, Joe on the caller ID, like he's the only Joe she knows. She answers it, lying down on her living room carpet.

"I had to see," he says again.

She's quiet, because it doesn't sound like he's saying goodbye, but the words seem like that's what they should mean. Ending something that never started, shared coffee every day, running lines, talking on the phone when they're too tired to sleep, touching when they don't have to.

He says, "I think I want to be with you."

The way his unexpected expected kiss set her on fire surges through her again, and she thinks yes, now, get a cab. Then we can never take it back.

"We'll forget it in the morning," she argues.

He hangs up. Not angrily, just the way they do – always hanging up without saying goodbye, calling back the next time someone thinks of something to say. He calls back a minute later to say good night, and she advises him to drink water.

In the morning, she's hungover, regretting drinking and going out and thinking of him, but she doesn't forget.

Re: Kissing - RPF torri/joe :)

[anr]

oh, oh, I think this may be your best one yet. *gleeees*

LOVE ITANDYOUSOMUCH!!

Re: Kissing - RPF torri/joe :)

[marbleslab.livejournal.com]

I tend to be sketchy about RPF, but that was terrific.

Re: Kissing - RPF torri/joe :)

[phrenitis.livejournal.com]

ABSOLUTE WIN.

"Her phone rings, Joe on the caller ID, like he's the only Joe she knows."

And THIS! *flail*