Wednesday, 5 May 2010

Bad Girl Blogfest

Right, first time I've ever done anything like a blogfest... but it sounded like fun, so here I go. A bit early, I guess, but whatever...

Aim of the game: a Bad Girl's scene
Hosted by: Andrew Rosenberg AKA Iapetus999 at TheWriteRunner-Blog

This scene is actually from one of my incomplete stories - Thia and Val are two of my all-time favourite characters in my incomplete-story repertoire - but I hope it's not too much out of context:

Thia had always loved watching Val dance. 

He looked so beautiful in his formal clothes, even with his feet bare for ease of movement. The white shirt, the black suit, they fit him perfectly. His sky blue eyes glowed, a beautiful contrast to the unruly waves of black hair that hung down to his shoulders. 

He moved in time to the music, swinging his hips to the throbbing beat that resonated deep inside her. Slowly, ever so slowly, in perfect synchrony with the music, he took off his jacket, discarding it carelessly on the marble floor beneath his naked feet. Like a pagan god around a midsummer fire, he started dancing in circles around it. 

One by one, his fingers moved over the buttons that held his shirt, showing a peek of flesh, a glimpse of skin there, each time he spun around. He was watching her, casting coy glances in her direction from beneath his thick black lashes, trying to gauge her reaction. She smiled at him, white teeth flashing in the twilight of the hall. 

“Too much cloth”, she whispered, knowing he could read her answer from her lips. 

He blanched, his face turning pale beneath his tan. His pupils widened ever so slightly, nostrils flaring. 

Her smile grew wider. 

She could smell it, his fear, and she liked it. 

He lost a beat, but he was too good at this to let it show for more than an instant. He regained his composure, even managed to send her a cocky grin, but his eyes remained troubled. He hurried to get out of the shirt, trying to please. As the music neared its climax, his dance gained energy, growing more and more frantic, heated. He flung himself into every twist, turn and jump. He danced to the beat of the bone-priest’s drums, each move filled with heart and soul and the very basic desire of saving his skin from her wrath. 

From one turn to the next, his eyes stopped seeing her, and she knew he’d slipped into the dancer’s dream, that trance-like state where there was only music and movement. 

He was perfect.

He was hers. 

So there, that's my (well, maybe just a little bit bad) bad girl...hope you like her!

Don't forget to look at all the other entries to the Fest...
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