yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-03-23 05:03 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-03-23 05:03 pm
Entry tags:
50;
Title: Daybreak
Characters: England, Spain
Rating: G
For 30smiles' prompt, 'the best time'.
The best time of the day was the morning; they both agreed immediately on this, standing on a white wraparound porch with the sunrise on their faces and the wet, morning breeze blowing softly. A long, striped shirt hung off of England, frizzed at the ends with age and coffee stains; when he slouched under the sleepy wind, his shoulder bared itself to the dazzling pinks and purples that always peaked from between the horizon and the clouds. It was small, subtle, the way his skin changed colors as the sun grew stronger; Spain only noticed it by watching the clear-cut light and wrapping an arm around the lean fellow’s shoulders, pulling him closer and marveling how just the slightest touch could make the muscles under the skin tense and goose bumps rise, make those impenetrable green eyes turn to him with a look of vexation, the colors of dawn mirroring like glass in the shallow depths. Spain felt his face warm – caught in the act, though by all means his own fault – and struggled to find an excuse for the arm slung friendlily across England’s shoulders. England, though, found himself watching how the light crept.
Preoccupied, the tips of his fingers followed down the arm, across the unclothed back and down into the dip of his spine, lightly brushing in the small of his back and around his waist, dragging up and a smile twitching as the raised lines turned white and red in the quickening light. Spain either didn’t notice or pretended not to; England found this satisfactory enough to hug closer, just the slightest, and wonder how the tan skin gleamed with specks of dust and gold and beautiful age, even in the first light of day, something hidden and secret from the midday sun and its too-bright glow, but so perfectly visible in the rising, dim radiance.
Distracted, a kiss pulls him from his reverie and Spain smiles, soft against the morning, and chuckles, wheezes of breath ghosting the air like new fog.
Characters: England, Spain
Rating: G
For 30smiles' prompt, 'the best time'.
The best time of the day was the morning; they both agreed immediately on this, standing on a white wraparound porch with the sunrise on their faces and the wet, morning breeze blowing softly. A long, striped shirt hung off of England, frizzed at the ends with age and coffee stains; when he slouched under the sleepy wind, his shoulder bared itself to the dazzling pinks and purples that always peaked from between the horizon and the clouds. It was small, subtle, the way his skin changed colors as the sun grew stronger; Spain only noticed it by watching the clear-cut light and wrapping an arm around the lean fellow’s shoulders, pulling him closer and marveling how just the slightest touch could make the muscles under the skin tense and goose bumps rise, make those impenetrable green eyes turn to him with a look of vexation, the colors of dawn mirroring like glass in the shallow depths. Spain felt his face warm – caught in the act, though by all means his own fault – and struggled to find an excuse for the arm slung friendlily across England’s shoulders. England, though, found himself watching how the light crept.
Preoccupied, the tips of his fingers followed down the arm, across the unclothed back and down into the dip of his spine, lightly brushing in the small of his back and around his waist, dragging up and a smile twitching as the raised lines turned white and red in the quickening light. Spain either didn’t notice or pretended not to; England found this satisfactory enough to hug closer, just the slightest, and wonder how the tan skin gleamed with specks of dust and gold and beautiful age, even in the first light of day, something hidden and secret from the midday sun and its too-bright glow, but so perfectly visible in the rising, dim radiance.
Distracted, a kiss pulls him from his reverie and Spain smiles, soft against the morning, and chuckles, wheezes of breath ghosting the air like new fog.