The thunder was so loud she couldn’t hear herself think, but she didn’t need to think. She curled her knees to her chest as she stared out the window. The brilliant flashes of lightning mesmerized her as she watched the storm from her back deck. So lost in the storm’s show was she that she never noticed his approach.
“Woman, are you crazy?”
She nearly jumped at the low Texan drawl, but a soft smile curled at her lips, “Why do you say that?”
“It’s wetter and hotter than a bath out here and you’re just lollygaggin’ like you don’t have no better place to be.” His cerulean eyes flashed at her. A little bit amused. A little bit...something more.
“And where do I need to be, Sy?” She pressed lowly, already knowing what he was going to say and he didn’t disappoint.
Sy grinned wolfishly, “Why in my bed, of course. Get your butt up, girl. That’s an order.”
She smiled sinfully, playfully, “I’m not military, Sy. You know I don’t follow orders.”
His gaze glinted at her again... he’d see about that.
Just popping in to say hello. :)
Rae 🥺🖤🖤 my heart skipped a beat when I saw your name in my inbox and then it melted from your beautiful writing. No one captivated me the way you do. Just this short prose made me feel like I am floating on a dream.
"Camille..." He whispered, unable to keep his impetuous need from his voice, "Camille... Stay with me, love. Please."
His hand grasped hers with a fierce intensity, "Reach for our bond. I need you to reach for it, push for it, please. Camille. I am begging you. Twice now, you have made me beg and I do not beg. Do not deny me again."
Tears crawled down his cheeks as he battered frantically at those planks. She was so close.
Can I just say that I appreciate you.💕 You're a extremely talented writer and spread a great deal of joy with your work. But more than that you promote and support other writers on here, me included, and because of your small acts of feedback and re-blogging I've been introduced to some great writers on Tumblr. I'm just very grateful and humbled by your kindness and I just wanted to give you a shout out and say thank you.💖💖
The pleasure is all mine! I’m just paying it forward, cause if it wasn’t for other phenomenal writers on here that did the same for me, I wouldn’t have the following that I do. I love your work and am more than proud to share it with the rest of the site! I look forward to more of them <3
Connor didn't realize tears were streaming down his cheeks as he reread her letter. At the bottom, she had left her phone number and he realized it wasn't the same one she had had in college.
This couldn't be right. He couldn't have... He couldn't.
"Ahhh!" He cried out curling in on himself as he glared at the stack of letters still waiting for him. At the life he missed. The life he ignored. He wanted to burn them. No, he wanted a damn time machine.
The ache in his chest burst and he was consumed by an entirely new kind of hurt.
Can’t Change the Past, Chapter Three: The Hits Just Keep Coming
Add a few words, a few sentences, or a few paragraphs. Tag another person to keep the story
going. Here’s the prompt: There’s a man she has been dreaming about. A man too good to be
true.... it’s why the dreams are so nice, safe, delicious. So why upon awakening is there always
the flower that he gives her.
xXx
It was raining, but she couldn’t feel it. The water splattered her skin as rivulets trailed languidly to
the saturated ground. An odd sorrow had sunk into her bones as she wandered like a ghost
through streets that she didn’t recognize but strangely seemed to know.
She had forgotten something.
Just out of her reach.
Cement turned to dirt. Old buildings turned to luscious fields, but the rain remained.
“Are you always this sad?”
She turned towards the voice that had interrupted her search. Startled by the deep timber, she
clamped down on the spark of desire that lighted in her belly, but nearly lost the battle as she gazed into a pair of sapphire eyes that made her think fire burned blue, “What?”
A smirk twitched gently at the corner of his mouth, “Are you always this sad? Rain’s a little
heavy.”
She blinked and looked up as if noticing the weather for the first time, “I’m not sad. I’m lost... I
think.”
He nodded in understanding, sympathy coating his smile now, “Lost is a good reason to be
sad.”
“Who...” She stopped, uncertain if the answer was important. She had been looking for
something, but she felt stuck. Her feet were glued to the ground and her gaze fastened to his
beguiling form.
His hand reached up to touch her cheek, but it was the strong press of skin and muscle that she
felt... it was something softer, cold - pleasant in a way that a summer breeze wafted through a
blazing day. A gasp unfurled from her lips as she was finally able to look from him to the
object he held.
A cornflower.
A shade of cerulean not dissimilar to his eyes. She smiled, unable to keep the stream of
flattered joy from mixing through her sorrow soggy bones.
“That’s better.” He murmured.
She didn’t have to look up to know he was smiling down at her. She tentatively reached for the
fragile flower. Her cold fingers brushing his warm limbs, but it was the whisper of his lips against
her cheek that startled her awake.
She blinked into the darken shadow of her apartment. Her heart beating wildly as she tried
to focus on her surroundings.
Distant words still echoed through her fogged mind, “My name’s Henry.”
It was a barely stifled yawn that settled her strained nerves.
She shook off the remnants of her dream before she settled back into her pillow.... not noticing
the cornflower next to her bed until morning.
xXx
Tagging you if your interested in continuing it, my dear. Pass it on of you're not.💜💜💜
How can I ever continue something you started? 🥺 But oh well... I try and excuse myself for the elements of horror. I’d be freak out of my wits if I woke up tomorrow with a flower in bed! Divider by the marvellous @firefly-graphics
It took a couple of bemused blinks to realise this was no longer a dream. The agitated muscle in her heart sank to her gut with a heavy thump and rushed with panic, she jumped out of her bed, flinging the blanket away as if a mouse crawled under the covers.
Standing with eyes flared, she gawked at the cornflower resting on her bedding. Its pointy cerulean petals appeared like soft velvet; vivid and bright, serving an utter contrast to her blank pillow.
As her chest still heaved, she turned around from side to side, looking to find... truly, she was terrified to ever find out. For what sort of stranger would break into a woman’s house, leave her unharmed but discard a beautiful flower by her head.
A game of some sort?
Curiosity settled in no sooner than her fear subsided. As no trace of an intruder appeared in sight, she crouched toward her bed and plucked the flower between her fingers. Her thumb ran smoothly across the stem, admiring the bewildering beauty of a thing so simple and still so odd and for a reason, she could not explain to herself at all, her cheeks suddenly felt hot.
It was then when it struck her and her breath shook.
There was something else...
A certain scent that still lingered on the air, mellow yet potent enough to sense, resembling old leather books and the fresh earthy kiss of the first autumn rain. Gentle as a lover’s embrace, it wrapped around her and made her feel the undeniable paradox of warmth and sadness evoked from the most passionate longing of love lost.
But she never lost anyone, and it a sliver of a moment before she realised - the petals were squeezed thin between her index and her thumb.
🥺🖤 Baby, I can't tell you how many times I've re-read your stories and thought about you. I didn't want to pester, but I really hope you are doing well. You've been on my mind a lot.
I just had a thought. I just started watching Emerald City and true to the Wizard of Oz form, Dorothy is from Kansas. Now... Clark Kent unoffically adopted and claims Kansas as home. Ignoring the 40 year gap between the creations of these two works, let's assume that they coexist at the same time.... So, what if these two were ever to cross paths???? Huh? Huh? My brain is running a muck tonight.
*raises her finger in the air*
Okay, wife! But I have so many questions:
Will Clark still have his powers in Oz? Or will he be powerless due to “no more magic”.
Will the witches try to seduce him?... 👀
Will they succeed? Will Dorothy have to fight for him?
