#fff92

[enchanted-lightning-aes]

A Sudden Treat

A/N: a story of a Chantelle having good friends, who’ve got her back. that’s it, that’s the plot. :3

Word Count: 722

TW: food, that’s about it

***

No amount of coffee can solve this issue, Chantelle thinks. She pulls up at a familiar hallway, going towards where her office is.

Another day at work and earlier morning caffeine didn't improve her mood. What a downer.

Pressing her face against a door, she squeezes her eyes closed.

Since she woke up this morning, she has shallow breathing and a tight chest. From having her designs refused to be used in the fashion line. Sure, her chances were slim, it didn't stop her from feeling. . . hurt. Like she had been prepared for the inevitable impact, but it still disappointed her. It doesn't lessen her subdued pain.

It reminds her of how hard she used to work as a song-writer.

Only for her effort to be thrown away as a certain singer dismissed it. As if she was just. . . nothing.

No worth in her effort, career, or whatever it is she poured her heart and soul in.

At least, as a fashion designer, she can wait for another opportunity. As a song-writer, though? Memories of how it used to be surfaced on her mind, not leaving it.

Not that it mattered, anymore. It shouldn’t. Right?

Her ex-agent's correct about how she needs to get over it. Instead of wallowing on what she lost, she should just deal with it. It is what it is, and she can't change that at all. It's been years, she has to stop being hung-up about what happened.

After she unlatches the door, she opens her eyes again, and enters the room.

Yet she's knocked out of breath at what she sees. Her friends gathered together with a box. Opened and with. . . a whole strawberry cake with pink frosting, sprinkles, and fruits. Her mouth slacks.

"Surprise!" Both Efraime and Cassie exclaim in unison.

"What's all this?" she croaks.

"This is for you, Chantelle," Efraime answers with a smile.

"Yeah, uh, we've noticed you've been down lately," Cassie adds, sounding hesitant. "It's all his idea, I just paid for the cake."

She gulps, feeling her stomach tie into knots. "Really? You did all this for me?"

"I mean. . . We wanted to surprise you, honey," Efraime explains, his smile growing wide. "What better way than to cheer you up than that?"

"I just. . . I just didn't expect anyone here would do this," she admits, her voice faltering.

"Well then," Cassie says, rubbing the back of her neck. "Should we return this, then? I apologize if this might not be your favorite flavor."

". . . The shop ran out of other flavors, so we had to compromise." Efraime grimaces, setting the box down. "I could have choose something else. . . if

Her thoughts swirl so quickly, and she can't follow them. All jumbled at what she's trying to process.

Efraime and Cassie did this to. . . cheer her up? Even though, she didn't talk about why she's been so depressed to either of them.

Somehow, they noticed it enough to care about what she's feeling. To make her day better. Her heart swells with a wave of affection.

No one at her previous job has ever been. . . so considerate to her. They've mostly thought of what she can do for them.

And for it to happen the other way around. . . okay, she needs to sit down. To take it all in.

For a while, she hadn't been thinking anyone else would lift her low spirits. Besides her family, of course. And here they are, surprising her with a cake and it's so. . . so thoughtful of them.

Tears almost stings her eyes but she swipes it off.

Nonetheless, this happened to be a very sweet surprise.

"I'm glad, you two are my friends," Chantelle murmured with a smile. "Plus, this is better than being at a party."

"Wait, it is?" Efraime asks, sounding dumb-founded.

"Thanks, you're a great friend too." Cassie grins.

Efraime rubs his hands before opening the box. "Now will you do the honor of cutting this cake?"

Cassie offers a clean spade, setting it beside.

"Yes, of course!" Chantelle giggles, reaching for it.

When she cuts it into three pieces, she puts them in plates for each of them. They dig in, sharing a laugh.

***

[renee-writer]

Unexpected Encounter

A one shot for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt Sweet Surprise

AO3

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

He wasn’t expecting it. It was just to be another audition, hopefully the last one, but still.. She came in a rush, explaining about the traffic with the most incredible Irish accent, a sweet surprise. Taken his breath away even before they did the first scene together. 

 

Then she disappeared, becoming her character in seconds. Amazing. He can’t help pulling her into a hug, not part of the script, but God help him. He had to touch her. A harsh whisper, in her own voice, “You bastard.” He lets her go and they continue.

 

She nails all the scenes and then comes the kiss. See it isn’t just about the acting. There has to be chemistry. He knows there is. It comes off him in waves. But does she feel it? Christ, how can she not? With a shake of his head and a deep breath, followed by a quick lick to wet his dry lips. He takes her face and her eyes. Then he lowers his head.

 

 

She is running late. Damn it, of all the days. This audition was to important. She rushes in, covered in stress and sweat and meets the sweetest blue eyes she has ever seen. He puts her immediately at ease. Laughing with her about the traffic, he relaxes her about being late.  His soft Scottish burr is both soothing and relaxing. By the time she needs to get into character, she is ready.

 

She knows she has nailed it by the look of awe on his face. When he pulls her into her arms for an unexpected hug, she isn’t really shocked. Something had to be done with the sweet surprise that is the attraction between them. But one mustn’t be so easy to get. A whisper into his ear has him releasing her.

 

She is quite ready for the kiss when it comes. When he takes her face, she has to restrain herself from reacting. Then he licks his lips. Oh God! She lifts up into the kiss.

 

“Oh God!” he breaths as their lips come together.  She is just as surprised. Her lips open up under him and he tastes her breath, a mixture of mint and pure desire.

 

Feeling a tad faint, she holds tight to him, fingers tight on the broadness of his shoulders. She has to open up under him. Oh Lord, is that his tongue? It is. She pushes hers against his. They are soon freely French kissing.

 

They come apart and look at each other in awe. He offers her a smile that she brilliantly returns. As the discussion makers talk, he holds her to his side and they talk in smiles and giggles like teens experiencing first love.

 

An audition turned into an unexpected encounter that leads to life imitating art when they become a real life couple.

[ashen-crest]

Flash Fiction Friday #92- Sweet Surprise

Thanks so much, @flashfictionfridayofficial! These are always so much fun.

Like always, this is within the TSS universe:

The Candy Counter

Emry fidgeted at the candy counter, biting his lip and glancing behind his shoulder while the confectioner assisted the girl ahead of him.

 “I’m keeping an eye out,” Georgie reassured him, facing the door with her arms folded. “Just pick the candy and go.”

 “I know, I know.” Emry paused. “But do you remember if she likes raspberry or strawberry filling more-“

 “Mar likes everything, just point at some random chocolates so we can get out of here.”

 “And you’ll tell me if she shows up?”

 “Yes, now go.” Georgie pushed him towards the counter just as the confectioner was waving the other customer goodbye.

 “Mr. Karic!” He spread his arms. “What can I do for you?”

 “Looking to get a birthday present for Marley, actually.”

 “Say no more.” The man grabbed a box and began to fill it with chocolates, taking hardly more than a moment’s pause to consider his choices before plucking the perfect squares for the job. Emry turned back to Georgie.

 “Um, how often does Mar come here, exactly?”

Georgie shrugged.

 “Now, just let me get a bow…” The chocolatier grabbed a ribbon and slowly tied a bow around the box. Emry slapped the coins on the counter.

 “That’s great, I’ll take that-“

 “Ah, I should add a flower as well!” The confectioner went over to a vase on the counter.

 “That’s a nice thought, but-“

 “No worries, Mr. Karic- Ms. Karic is my best customer, the flower is free.” The man began to rifle through a dozen identical blooms. Georgie elbowed Emry in the ribs.

 “Shit, I see her, she’s crossing the street.”

 “Oh no- um- I think she’d like that one best.” Emry pointed randomly into the vase. The confectioner frowned.

 “The leaf?”

 “…Yup.”

He shrugged and stuck the leaf under the bow.

 “Here you go-“

 “Thank you!”

Emry grabbed the box and dashed out the side door with Georgie just as Marley wandered in, shaking the snowflakes off her scarf.

 “Ms. Karic!” The confectioner welcomed her as if he hadn’t seen her in a week. “How are you today? I hear someone’s birthday is coming up.”

Marley beamed.

 “How’d you know? Did you really remember from last year?”

Emry swore the man winked over at the side door.

 “I remember everything, my dear.”

[starklyscifi]

You Are What You Understand

“You haven’t talked since Jupiter?”

“Saturn.”

Demeter laughed, a rough, coarse thing. “I hope you like bunking alone, because that’s what you’re headed back to.”

They weren’t even halfway through this trip, they weren’t “headed back” anywhere, not yet.

“Less talking, more stacking,” Thiel said, tossing her another package and taking the luxury of being second in command to get the hell out of the cargo bay.

“How are we looking?” the captain asked as Thiel tapped the hull on his way out of the ship.

“Getting there.”

“Then what are you doing out here?”

“Supervising,” Thiel said with a straight face. The joke didn’t land well. The captain stared until Thiel coughed and muttered something about getting back to it. So much for higher rank, higher privileges. Or maybe it was just karma coming back for him for the way he’d left Titan. Thiel left bruises in the cargo, trying not to think about that. The crew loitered around the ship after the last of it was secured, Thiel staring at the gate above his head, a glance into what awaited them beyond Pluto’s icy frontier.

Nothing. A black void hung where the night sky should have been.

The captain came back, tucking his tablet into his jacket and shaking hands with the dockmaster. He turned to the crew and started in on the usual bullshit speech. Thiel couldn’t take his eyes off the sliver of the void through the space-port. The future seemed bleak indeed.

“You all know what you signed up for. This run won’t be easy. Here’s your last chance to back out. I won’t count you less, but either speak up or buck up.”

The same speech Thiel had heard a thousand times and dismissed nine hundred and ninety-nine.

He lingered with the captain as the crew began filing into the spaceship.

“I’m not coming any further.”

His heart was pounding, and he was less sure of this decision by the second. His father was right—he was never anything but rash.

The captain grabbed his arm. “I know you’ve had misgivings about this assignment from the start, but I can’t lose my second in command, right before launch.”

Demeter had slowed when she saw Thiel hanging back with the captain. Thiel had always had a bad feeling about the whispered conversations between the captain and Demeter, and that corner of the cargo bay that didn’t seem to match the ship schematics.

He would have had a worse feeling about this, but the blunt end of Demeter’s service weapon was a bit of a surprise.

Thiel woke woozy and disoriented in his own cabin, sprawled on his own sheets with a ringing headache. The captain had made his position clear. If Thiel left now, he’d be stripped of his rank and subjected to all the incivilities of civilian laws.

However, Thiel Augustus Patterson was never one to half-ass stupid decisions. He stumbled to his door, finding the keypad locked. He punched in the emergency override code, watching the door slide open and waiting for the response of someone outside.

Of course, the hall was empty. They were minutes from launch and running on a skeleton crew. There was no one to guard him, and no time to revoke his credentials. Thiel took off down the musty corridors.

He rounded the corner to the airlock, seeing the corner of another ship docked in port. He was so close to freedom.

And then Demeter emerged from the shadows, a smile on her face, waiting. She opened her mouth, but Thiel didn’t quite feel like bantering. He closed the gap and slugged her.

Contrary to a few of the stories floating around the pubs back on Titan, Thiel had never actually punched someone before.

Demeter caught his arm on the backstroke and twisted, pain shooting up into Thiel’s shoulder.

He kicked, connecting with Demeter’s leg just below the knee.

She grimaced and dug her fingernails into his arm. Thiel twisted, hearing footsteps in the hall behind him.

“Captain!” Demeter yelled, digging her claws further into his skin. Thiel came at her head with his other hand, smacking his open palm against her ear.

Someone was rounding the bend into the airlock.

You’re never going to see him again.

The black sky above the planet filled his mind, filled his lungs. In a surge of panic, Thiel swung his arm as hard as he could, sending Demeter into the wall with a sickening crack. She let go.

Thiel never looked to see the damage, just ran.

He was fairly certain he’d broken his hand, but that was not important right now. Outside, he found himself in an unfamiliar cargo bay, but that was an advantage. His crew didn’t know it either, and the captain had too much pride to ask the local port authorities for help.

A solid month later, Thiel was standing in front of Saturn and her rings in all their glory, staring at them through a thick plate-glass window that was a ridiculous luxury on a space station.

He felt someone staring before he turned to see Soren leaning against the wall, staring in surprise. Thiel couldn’t help the grin. It had been months.

“You’re back,” Soren said.

Not surprised. Shocked. 


“I’m sorry,” Thiel whispered. The words hung in the air, crowded out by the hum of the ventilation system, and Thiel realized he might not have spoken loud enough to be heard. He cleared his throat.

“I know,” Soren said, joining him at the window, standing close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“I said some awful things.”

“Did you mean them?”

“I don’t now.”

More silence.

“How are you back? The ship passed the heliosphere three days ago.”

“I took a wrong turn on Pluto, must have missed launch.”

Soren snorted. “You’ve never been late for work a day in your life.”

“Something came up,” Thiel said, staring openly at Soren, who colored up and turned back to Saturn.

“You don’t seem happy that I’m back,” Thiel said tentatively, aware he didn’t deserve as much.

“No, I’m just surprised, that’s all.” Soren said, hugging him. The scent of his shampoo overwhelmed Thiel, the feel of his shoulders under his hands. The weight of him in his arms.

Thiel had expected fire and brimstone and a hell of a fight. What he got was Soren. A lump swelled in his throat. God above, he did not deserve this man.

“I think you still owe me a proper apology.”

Thiel laughed, hiding his face in Soren’s neck.

@flashfictionfridayofficial

[westywrites]

@flashfictionfridayofficial (been a very long time since I've done one of these, but I hope to get back into it. I quite enjoy this oddly old-fashioned poetic prose written by the strange spirit that possesses me when I do things like this)

In the depths of me, there sits a bitter heart. It has been this way since I was young.

My father felled our cherry tree on a summer’s day. I used to see it from my window, watch the red berries bloom and swell. Until the day it fell.

The cherries left their juice on the ground. Red, vibrant. Blood spilt on the green grass and a stain spreading on my heart.

The stain only grew, fermented, turned my heart into a sour, shriveled thing. Even the brightest berries can go bad.

Still, you saw me. Held me. Remade me.

You plucked my forgotten heart from where it hid among the highest branches and took it home. You took me to a room filled with your very soul. Filled with your own crushed heart, splattered and stroked and made into something beautiful.

I never knew that I held the red of the sunrise. That I could become the red of a lover’s lips. In your hands, my spilled blood became potential. You turned my bitterness into beauty.

Your attentive love wrung the juice from my bitter heart until you found the sweet red that I had not known still ran through me.

Together, we made the berries of a new, undying cherry tree. One that we hung in our home and in our hearts.

Together, we turned the bitter stains of the past into the paint of our future.