Guys...
Guys, I couldn't check this thread for a couple of days and now there's so many comments to catch up on that it's just overwh… moreelming...
Can I get the Cliffs Notes version?Just a quick summary of what I missed?
Oh God, did I miss page 69?!
Fiona prides herself in always having valued practicality over feelings. It's not fair but life hasn't been kind to her or her sister and adapting meant surviving.
She'd always thought one day, maybe, they'd get away from this life and then she could settle, live a better life, and then consider anything more. But meanwhile her priority was her sister and her plan assuring her safety as they go. It was a good plan, she could follow it.
Until she couldn't.
It makes her feel a bit uneasy, at first, when she notices he's stealing glances at her from the corner of her eye. It's harmless, really, but Fiona can tell something is growing there and she's not sure how to react. She doesn't want to give him hope, to lead him on, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it either. It's just not possible and even if she wanted to go with it (she doesn't, she assures herself) she'd have to get over it because some things are just so much more important.
She's been living, surving, just fine for twenty nine years. One man isn't going to change her resolve.
But then she feels herself smiling back, slightly, at him when she thinks he isn't looking and she eventually dares do it when he's facing her too. It's without her permission, without her consent, but her body does it anyway and it terrifies her because she knows where this is heading and she doesn't know if she can handle it.
When she thinks about it again, they're already sitting so close that his body heat is making her skin burn and it wasn't too long ago that they refused to even let the tips of their sleeves brush against each other.
Things were changing at an alarming rate and the cracks on her resolve were starting to show.
She pushes the thought aside and next thing she knows is that he's deliberately touching her and she's letting him. It's simple, just hands brushing away a strand of her hair or resting on a shoulder, but she's not pushing him away and she's scared that she's in too deep to turn back now.
She still thinks she can solve this.
It isn't until they're alone and he's close, too close, and mumbling something she doesn't care about enough to hear at the moment that she realises she can't. He moves too slowly, or maybe it's just her impatient clouded mind twisting things, but eventually he does cradle her face in his hand, his natural one, warm and welcoming, and instead of stepping back like her mind is begging her body to, she covers his hand with her own.
Rhys sees it as permission and she can't blame him. Maybe it was permission, she can't tell her own emotions apart anymore. But she can tell that he's leaning down and once again she's glued in place, waiting, until he finally presses his lips to hers and the resolve she's had her whole life finally comes tumbling down at the hands of someone she should hate; someone who worked for one of the reasons she had built a resolve in the first place.
She finds it funny.
Perhaps in an ironic sort of way but it's funny.
Fiona prides herself in always having valued practicality over fe… moreelings. It's not fair but life hasn't been kind to her or her sister and adapting meant surviving.
She'd always thought one day, maybe, they'd get away from this life and then she could settle, live a better life, and then consider anything more. But meanwhile her priority was her sister and her plan assuring her safety as they go. It was a good plan, she could follow it.
Until she couldn't.
It makes her feel a bit uneasy, at first, when she notices he's stealing glances at her from the corner of her eye. It's harmless, really, but Fiona can tell something is growing there and she's not sure how to react. She doesn't want to give him hope, to lead him on, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it either. It's just not possible and even if she wanted to go with it (she doesn't, she assures herself) s… [view original content]
Comments
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And if he's naughty maybe she'll teach him a lesson in etiquette?
Rhyiona:
Everything good.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Good thing Fiona brought the stun baton.
Here.
Wow, that is actually a lot of comments to catch up. :O
Thanks, it's beatiful. I'm happy now.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
They can make another Gortys project on their own.
A final one just to make sure.
Rhyiona:
Like when you buy food from KFC.
Squeals in delight
This is just the best!
Rhyiona:
Better than pizza.
Rhyiona:
Beats chicken nuggets.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
And this time it'll be made with 'bio' technology.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Human child confirmed.
Rhyiona:
Better than those Friday nights with Ben and Jerry.
We have grown more powerful in creating beautiful Rhyiona arts. I love it.
Wow man that's..... wow!
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Oh, it'll be so much more than that.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
But that´ll be one of the results.
Rhyiona:
Sweeter than my afternoon tea biscuits.
Rhyiona:
Better than sleep.
Rhyiona:
Better than dreams because they are your dreams now.
Rhyiona:
Not just dreams.
Reality too.
Rhys wants Fiona´s help.
if u no wat i mean
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Rhys is ready to receive the 'delivery' (9 months of shipping)
Rhyiona:
Better than existence itself.
Good thing she brought the right tools.
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Rhyiona:
The best.
Go on, I want details.
For... science. :^)
Well well are you sure you can handle it?
'Cause this is high tech stuff.
bruh I can handle any kind of Rhyiona :^)
Rahter a guy who suppors Rhysha, decied to be nice to you.
Then I'll tellya Fiona brought her screw driver and butt splice ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
That was not what I expected, I confess.
What can I say.
Fiona knows how to impress.
Only 12 more likes ._.
I like it. Good job,bruh.
She finds it funny.
Perhaps in an ironic sort of way but it's funny.
Fiona prides herself in always having valued practicality over feelings. It's not fair but life hasn't been kind to her or her sister and adapting meant surviving.
She'd always thought one day, maybe, they'd get away from this life and then she could settle, live a better life, and then consider anything more. But meanwhile her priority was her sister and her plan assuring her safety as they go. It was a good plan, she could follow it.
Until she couldn't.
It makes her feel a bit uneasy, at first, when she notices he's stealing glances at her from the corner of her eye. It's harmless, really, but Fiona can tell something is growing there and she's not sure how to react. She doesn't want to give him hope, to lead him on, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it either. It's just not possible and even if she wanted to go with it (she doesn't, she assures herself) she'd have to get over it because some things are just so much more important.
She's been living, surving, just fine for twenty nine years. One man isn't going to change her resolve.
But then she feels herself smiling back, slightly, at him when she thinks he isn't looking and she eventually dares do it when he's facing her too. It's without her permission, without her consent, but her body does it anyway and it terrifies her because she knows where this is heading and she doesn't know if she can handle it.
When she thinks about it again, they're already sitting so close that his body heat is making her skin burn and it wasn't too long ago that they refused to even let the tips of their sleeves brush against each other.
Things were changing at an alarming rate and the cracks on her resolve were starting to show.
She pushes the thought aside and next thing she knows is that he's deliberately touching her and she's letting him. It's simple, just hands brushing away a strand of her hair or resting on a shoulder, but she's not pushing him away and she's scared that she's in too deep to turn back now.
She still thinks she can solve this.
It isn't until they're alone and he's close, too close, and mumbling something she doesn't care about enough to hear at the moment that she realises she can't. He moves too slowly, or maybe it's just her impatient clouded mind twisting things, but eventually he does cradle her face in his hand, his natural one, warm and welcoming, and instead of stepping back like her mind is begging her body to, she covers his hand with her own.
Rhys sees it as permission and she can't blame him. Maybe it was permission, she can't tell her own emotions apart anymore. But she can tell that he's leaning down and once again she's glued in place, waiting, until he finally presses his lips to hers and the resolve she's had her whole life finally comes tumbling down at the hands of someone she should hate; someone who worked for one of the reasons she had built a resolve in the first place.
He holds her tighter and she gives in.
She finds it really, really funny.
-
A short one from Fiona's POV.
Dress to impress, Fiona. :^)
Is there anything you can write that isnt beautiful?