Drabble of 100 words after a day of losing every word I wrote (three times!!!!) pulling out my hair and finally, finally having my son find my MS Word CD.
He didn’t know his real name. He never had. They met every Friday in the bathroom. No words, but the low growls breathed in his ear with a rush of heat. Fingers tugged at whatever tie he was wearing, another shirt ruined, buttons popped, dropped.
Once he had tried to trace the art drawn on his skin. His hands batted away with an impatient wave.
He never stayed afterwards. He never paused for a moment that might lead to names, phone numbers, casual conversation. He strips the condom off, drops it in the trash. Smiles.
“See you next week.”
Another ep of Farscape watched and I am more and more convinced that Angel should meet John. If for no other reason? For the scent of a human after too many years away from home.
And it would start?
Spike was an idiot.
Have a wonderful weekend!