Ilthit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ilthit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
femslashficlets2015-06-25 02:18 am
ilthit) wrote in femslashficlets2015-06-25 02:18 am
Entry tags:
#012 - Do Not... (Community)
Title: Do Not...
Fandom: Community
Pairing: Annie Edison/Britta Perry
Rating: PG
Prompt: #012 - the five senses
Word Count: 300
1. Britta smells like hairspray and old leather, never like flowers or lemongrass, or anything else that's sweet or fresh. It makes no sense that it should make Annie feel giddy, make her want to reach out and pull her in, breathe in that scent, crush that hair in her hands. She doesn't, or course. You don't. You can't.
2. Britta closes her eyes and bends towards the sunlight, a textbook dangling forgotten in her hand. The light makes her bright-dyed hair a halo around her small, sharp face, and her skin white as ivory, carved with minute wrinkles and stained with pale purple grape juice under her eyes. Annie starts as Britta opens her eyes, the statue (object) come to life, staring back at her.
3. Annie comes home early one day and the door to Troy's room is ajar. She hears them before she sees it: Britta sighing, groaning, choking with need, almost like pain; Troy responding with his familiar lilting moans. Annie hurries into her room and closes the door as quietly as she can. It's not his voice that haunts her, that she plugs her ears against, that sticks in her memory.
4. They've hugged a hundred times if they've hugged once. Annie knows the feel of Britta's slight body pressed tight against her own, snug as if the two of them had been crafted to fit together. It's okay to hang on as long as she wants, longer than should be comfortable. It's safe as long as she doesn't make it weird. Doesn't smell her skin, doesn't make a sound, doesn't stare too long after they pull apart, doesn't...
5. Britta tastes like Caroline Decker. Like the memory amphetamine, like green tea and bad choices. Annie crushes her close and wills the seconds slow against the inevitability of letting go.
Fandom: Community
Pairing: Annie Edison/Britta Perry
Rating: PG
Prompt: #012 - the five senses
Word Count: 300
1. Britta smells like hairspray and old leather, never like flowers or lemongrass, or anything else that's sweet or fresh. It makes no sense that it should make Annie feel giddy, make her want to reach out and pull her in, breathe in that scent, crush that hair in her hands. She doesn't, or course. You don't. You can't.
2. Britta closes her eyes and bends towards the sunlight, a textbook dangling forgotten in her hand. The light makes her bright-dyed hair a halo around her small, sharp face, and her skin white as ivory, carved with minute wrinkles and stained with pale purple grape juice under her eyes. Annie starts as Britta opens her eyes, the statue (object) come to life, staring back at her.
3. Annie comes home early one day and the door to Troy's room is ajar. She hears them before she sees it: Britta sighing, groaning, choking with need, almost like pain; Troy responding with his familiar lilting moans. Annie hurries into her room and closes the door as quietly as she can. It's not his voice that haunts her, that she plugs her ears against, that sticks in her memory.
4. They've hugged a hundred times if they've hugged once. Annie knows the feel of Britta's slight body pressed tight against her own, snug as if the two of them had been crafted to fit together. It's okay to hang on as long as she wants, longer than should be comfortable. It's safe as long as she doesn't make it weird. Doesn't smell her skin, doesn't make a sound, doesn't stare too long after they pull apart, doesn't...
5. Britta tastes like Caroline Decker. Like the memory amphetamine, like green tea and bad choices. Annie crushes her close and wills the seconds slow against the inevitability of letting go.