O Beautiful One!
Feb. 15th, 2011 05:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwyllionTitle: O Beautiful One!
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: canon
Pairing: ?!
Rating: PG-13
Words: 516
A/N: This was written for the Secret Crush Challenge.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading!
“O Beautiful One,” the words flowed from his heart, the scratch of the leaky pen skipping across the sheaf of Pepto Bismol-colored paper that he had found in an unused drawer. He paused for a moment and chewed on his lip, trying to think of what else to write. After he stared into space, imagining his beloved’s smile, the pen showed signs of life again. It was so easy to spill his feelings when his cherished one was out of his sight.
The inhabitants of Riverton never knew him as the most expressive guy on the block. He quietly kept to himself on most days, but the calendar proclaimed today February 14th- Valentine’s Day- the day for love! And damnit if Cupid hadn’t shot him straight through the heart with his love-pollen coated arrow.
He finished composing his note, signing it with a modest flourish. When his beloved approached with wary eyes, he quickly diverted any attention by mumbling something about potatoes, excusing himself, saying he’d be right back.
He hid around the corner. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. He couldn’t possibly be a witness to the reading of the note. He’d surely die of embarrassment for his feelings to be so plainly displayed on the folded sheet, a shaky hand-drawn heart surrounding the four letters of his beloved’s name.
And what if the sentiments weren’t reciprocated? What if they were deemed silly?
He’d die of a broken heart!
Either way, it looked like he’d end up dead, although he’d rather be slain by the arrow of love. He sighed.
He opened the note to check the penmanship again. It was now or never. He left it where his sweetheart would find it, tucked between beans and ketchup, the very edge of the pink slip of paper jutting out as a flag to call attention to the expression of his feelings that he could never voice in public.
A while later, the beloved fingers found the note, its strange location piquing curiosity.
Work-roughened hands unfolded the paper, smoothing out the creases to read:
O Beautiful One,
I just want to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day, but when I got to thinking about what I wanted to say, it was like my brain just ran away with my thoughts and they all just came out of this here pen. I hope you don’t mind me saying. (I’m pretty sure you won’t.) I’m really not good at poetry, but I’ll give it a try.
I like the little talks we have, and the way you smile at me.
I like the way I can make you laugh, even though you are lonely.
You need someone who won’t hurt your feelings, or try to make you cry,
Someone with a lot of cash to spend on you, who isn’t afraid to buy.
I’d shower you with jewelry, if only you were mine,
Cover your scars with bracelets, if you gave me time.
You deserve someone better, to share your life’s joys,
So I hope you divorce your husband, because I think he likes boys.
Love,
Monroe
Author: gwylliondream
Genre: canon
Pairing: ?!
Rating: PG-13
Words: 516
A/N: This was written for the Secret Crush Challenge.
Disclaimer: I did not create these characters. No disrespect intended. No profit desired, only muses.
Comments: Comments are welcome anytime, thanks so much for reading!
“O Beautiful One,” the words flowed from his heart, the scratch of the leaky pen skipping across the sheaf of Pepto Bismol-colored paper that he had found in an unused drawer. He paused for a moment and chewed on his lip, trying to think of what else to write. After he stared into space, imagining his beloved’s smile, the pen showed signs of life again. It was so easy to spill his feelings when his cherished one was out of his sight.
The inhabitants of Riverton never knew him as the most expressive guy on the block. He quietly kept to himself on most days, but the calendar proclaimed today February 14th- Valentine’s Day- the day for love! And damnit if Cupid hadn’t shot him straight through the heart with his love-pollen coated arrow.
He finished composing his note, signing it with a modest flourish. When his beloved approached with wary eyes, he quickly diverted any attention by mumbling something about potatoes, excusing himself, saying he’d be right back.
He hid around the corner. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. He couldn’t possibly be a witness to the reading of the note. He’d surely die of embarrassment for his feelings to be so plainly displayed on the folded sheet, a shaky hand-drawn heart surrounding the four letters of his beloved’s name.
And what if the sentiments weren’t reciprocated? What if they were deemed silly?
He’d die of a broken heart!
Either way, it looked like he’d end up dead, although he’d rather be slain by the arrow of love. He sighed.
He opened the note to check the penmanship again. It was now or never. He left it where his sweetheart would find it, tucked between beans and ketchup, the very edge of the pink slip of paper jutting out as a flag to call attention to the expression of his feelings that he could never voice in public.
A while later, the beloved fingers found the note, its strange location piquing curiosity.
Work-roughened hands unfolded the paper, smoothing out the creases to read:
O Beautiful One,
I just want to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day, but when I got to thinking about what I wanted to say, it was like my brain just ran away with my thoughts and they all just came out of this here pen. I hope you don’t mind me saying. (I’m pretty sure you won’t.) I’m really not good at poetry, but I’ll give it a try.
I like the little talks we have, and the way you smile at me.
I like the way I can make you laugh, even though you are lonely.
You need someone who won’t hurt your feelings, or try to make you cry,
Someone with a lot of cash to spend on you, who isn’t afraid to buy.
I’d shower you with jewelry, if only you were mine,
Cover your scars with bracelets, if you gave me time.
You deserve someone better, to share your life’s joys,
So I hope you divorce your husband, because I think he likes boys.
Love,
Monroe
