Title: Dance a Dream
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Summary: "Closing her eyes, she lets her mind wander, her dreams mingling with his."
Rating: Adult
Warning: Euphamistic description of incestuous acts. Kind of.
Word Count: 239
Author's Note: Oy. Am finally writing, but am not happy with the result. And this prompt was just giving me a million sorts of problems. First it SCREAMED Simon/River at me, but I really don't like the way it was shaping up in my head. So I trashed it. Then trashed it again. Then this came out, but I'm very, very 'meh' on it.
She is walking around
She is yesterday's news
And she screams out my name
In the dead of the night
She is leaving my room
She is crying on her side
Walking on eggshells
Walking on glass
Burnt by the mirror
Burnt by the light
Feeling rejection I'll burn down your house
Tearing down posters
I was never alive
"River?" Simon's voice is thick with sleep, his tongue clumsy between his lips. She smiles in the dark, her feet floating gracefully over the carpet as she moves toward his bed. "Mei mei, is that you?"
She doesn't answer with words, rather, she settles her body into the crook of his, fitting them together like two puzzle pieces. Simon mumbles a half-hearted protest, but River caresses his face, calming him back into slumber.
Closing her eyes, she lets her mind wander, her dreams mingling with his. She's not sure whose thoughts are whose, but they both dream of dark hair and light eyes, skin stretched taut over muscled bodies, and motion, dancing and sweat. The dance is one she never learned in ballet class, but she knows the steps, when to lead, when to follow, and where all the pieces fit.
She wakes with a jerk, pulling out of the dream just as the dance nears its climax. Simon stays on stage, unwilling to leave before his time in the spotlight is done. River slides out of the bed, shaking as her sweat dries to a tacky film in the cool air.
Scrambling to her feet, she rushes to her room, her hurried steps masking the sound of Simon's denouement, even as it pounds in her head. The mirror on her wall stares accusingly back at her, telling her that even as the understudy, the show must go on.
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Summary: "Closing her eyes, she lets her mind wander, her dreams mingling with his."
Rating: Adult
Warning: Euphamistic description of incestuous acts. Kind of.
Word Count: 239
Author's Note: Oy. Am finally writing, but am not happy with the result. And this prompt was just giving me a million sorts of problems. First it SCREAMED Simon/River at me, but I really don't like the way it was shaping up in my head. So I trashed it. Then trashed it again. Then this came out, but I'm very, very 'meh' on it.
She is walking around
She is yesterday's news
And she screams out my name
In the dead of the night
She is leaving my room
She is crying on her side
Walking on eggshells
Walking on glass
Burnt by the mirror
Burnt by the light
Feeling rejection I'll burn down your house
Tearing down posters
I was never alive
"River?" Simon's voice is thick with sleep, his tongue clumsy between his lips. She smiles in the dark, her feet floating gracefully over the carpet as she moves toward his bed. "Mei mei, is that you?"
She doesn't answer with words, rather, she settles her body into the crook of his, fitting them together like two puzzle pieces. Simon mumbles a half-hearted protest, but River caresses his face, calming him back into slumber.
Closing her eyes, she lets her mind wander, her dreams mingling with his. She's not sure whose thoughts are whose, but they both dream of dark hair and light eyes, skin stretched taut over muscled bodies, and motion, dancing and sweat. The dance is one she never learned in ballet class, but she knows the steps, when to lead, when to follow, and where all the pieces fit.
She wakes with a jerk, pulling out of the dream just as the dance nears its climax. Simon stays on stage, unwilling to leave before his time in the spotlight is done. River slides out of the bed, shaking as her sweat dries to a tacky film in the cool air.
Scrambling to her feet, she rushes to her room, her hurried steps masking the sound of Simon's denouement, even as it pounds in her head. The mirror on her wall stares accusingly back at her, telling her that even as the understudy, the show must go on.
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