n4im4
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After waking up in a strange place with only his exboyfriend (God, he hopes he's not dating this moron now), he's stuck trying to remember the last five years of his life. But everything seems to rub him the wrong way, from the boxes of Mac and Cheese to the utter depravity that is his closet.
The only time he ever seems to feel himself is around Julia, and there is something about her mouth...
He's still gay, isn't he?
Excerpt:Stewart had been to the gun range, Arthur realized as soon as he stepped into the entryway and could smell him. There was no mistaking the scent of gunpowder as faint as it might have been. When Arthur got closer, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
“You should come with me next time,” Stewart said, and Arthur stepped back, embarrassed.
Something about the smell of gunpowder. It was comforting, familiar, almost routine. At the same time, it was provocative, heady. Arthur wanted to chase that scent down streets and corridors, through fields and forests, on boats and in cars. As if gunpowder were as vital as blood pumping through his veins. “Yeah, maybe.” His mind was too busy flitting from thought to thought to settle on anything except the need for a gun in his hand.Bookmarked by n4im4
30 May 2024
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Eames knows everything about everyone, it’s just in his nature to watch people, to ferret out their deepest secrets over the course of a few hours and a few drinks. People will talk to a stranger; they’re less guarded about personal details. Of course, Eames has a few of his own personal details–but a life of observation has taught him a thing or two about keeping those secrets, how to keep people at a distance, how to not get involved. He knows just how close to allow Arthur.
But Arthur’s been keeping secrets of his own.The wolves in the woods have sharp teeth and long claws, but it's the wolf inside who will tear you apart. – Jennifer Donnelly
Bookmarked by n4im4
28 May 2024
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In the words of my Beta, "time travel action rom com? I'm going with that."
Excerpt:
John shouted at the loud crack that split the air, and Julia dashed from the kitchen, wiping her hands hastily on her apron. They were both terribly unprepared for the arrival of a small boy inadequately dressed and unable to speak a word of English. He babbled, nearly incoherent, and began to cry.
John squared his shoulders, switched off the radio, and looked to his wife. For while they had been completely unprepared, had no clothes or toys or even a spare bed for the boy to sleep on, there was no one else who could have possibly been more prepared to help him.
“Langsam, mein lieber.” Julia said, slowly, hesitantly, not entirely sure that he would understand her.
But the boy paused and then said much more slowly in German that Julia was only loosely able to follow, “Where am I?”
And Julia’s heart broke just a little bit more for him. She knelt down and took his hands in hers and spoke slowly and simply so that he might be able to piece the meaning from her strange language, “Mein lieber, you are far from home.”Bookmarked by n4im4
27 May 2024
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This started here:http://cherrybina.livejournal.com/189714.html?thread=11176722#t11176722.
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Bookmarked by n4im4
03 Apr 2024
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Bookmarked by n4im4
25 Jan 2024