ahahaha you're right! AND I LOVE IT. credit cards and hotels and ROAD TRIPS and crappy chain restaurants and airport arrival halls, what else, i don't even know. and boozing on something other than wine. OMG. it is easier to not automatically write angst, also; i don't have to think about forgotten history and tragic destiny and whatnot.
ahaha, dude i've quite forgotten that my default icon here is actually an O11 icon 'cos it's all angsty-looking and also has latin pretentious-ing.
hmm. ONE HOUR LATER (MAYBE TWO??):
they are a spent heap, a tangle of arms and legs on the bed, slightly out of breath. the AC cools the sweat on their skins.
lucy extricates herself from the pile and jumps off the bed with a, "dibs on the bathroom!" and edmund and susan are like, "what? hey--" and give chase, and reach the bathroom door as lucy slams it shut.
"lucy!" edmund calls out as susan bangs on the door and jiggles the doorknob. "oh, come on."
"you better not be running the bath," susan threatens. "or at least don't take an age this time."
"i'm running the bath," comes lucy's voice. susan rolls her eyes. then lucy says, "room for one more."
they hear the bathroom door unlock and edmund shoulders susan hard, throwing all his weight. she yelps and stumbles back against the wall, but by the time she regains her balance, the bathroom door is closed and locked once more. she hears the water running and some self-satisfied giggling.
"very mature, ed!" she bangs the door once with her fist for good measure.
"you know how it is!" says edmund's voice, and then there is a splash and lucy shrieks and there is more giggling.
peter on the bed had refrained from the race for the bathroom, and he lies sprawled on his back with a lit cigarette in hand, watching her.
susan says, "i thought you quit."
"i didn't say that." he holds out her hand to her. susan climbs back on the bed but she ignores his hand; she doesn't like to cuddle afterwards -- too sweaty and disgusting. but she holds her hand out for the cigarette, and they pass it back and forth quietly between them until susan tastes the filter and tells him, "it's done."
peter crushes the butt in the ashtray and then, leisurely, almost lazily, rolls over on top of susan, supporting himself on his elbows. she kisses his chin. "what?" she says.
he doesn't answer immediately, and kisses her face, her neck, and down her body. peter kisses the space between her breasts, and he kisses her stomach, and he kisses the concave area where her hips curve into her leg even though he knows she's ticklish there.
no subject
ahaha, dude i've quite forgotten that my default icon here is actually an O11 icon 'cos it's all angsty-looking and also has latin pretentious-ing.
hmm. ONE HOUR LATER (MAYBE TWO??):
they are a spent heap, a tangle of arms and legs on the bed, slightly out of breath. the AC cools the sweat on their skins.
lucy extricates herself from the pile and jumps off the bed with a, "dibs on the bathroom!" and edmund and susan are like, "what? hey--" and give chase, and reach the bathroom door as lucy slams it shut.
"lucy!" edmund calls out as susan bangs on the door and jiggles the doorknob. "oh, come on."
"you better not be running the bath," susan threatens. "or at least don't take an age this time."
"i'm running the bath," comes lucy's voice. susan rolls her eyes. then lucy says, "room for one more."
they hear the bathroom door unlock and edmund shoulders susan hard, throwing all his weight. she yelps and stumbles back against the wall, but by the time she regains her balance, the bathroom door is closed and locked once more. she hears the water running and some self-satisfied giggling.
"very mature, ed!" she bangs the door once with her fist for good measure.
"you know how it is!" says edmund's voice, and then there is a splash and lucy shrieks and there is more giggling.
peter on the bed had refrained from the race for the bathroom, and he lies sprawled on his back with a lit cigarette in hand, watching her.
susan says, "i thought you quit."
"i didn't say that." he holds out her hand to her. susan climbs back on the bed but she ignores his hand; she doesn't like to cuddle afterwards -- too sweaty and disgusting. but she holds her hand out for the cigarette, and they pass it back and forth quietly between them until susan tastes the filter and tells him, "it's done."
peter crushes the butt in the ashtray and then, leisurely, almost lazily, rolls over on top of susan, supporting himself on his elbows. she kisses his chin. "what?" she says.
he doesn't answer immediately, and kisses her face, her neck, and down her body. peter kisses the space between her breasts, and he kisses her stomach, and he kisses the concave area where her hips curve into her leg even though he knows she's ticklish there.
he says, "tell me about new york."