Ningyo
06-08-2003, 02:53
I bet most of you are wondering how stainless steel is related to tatu? Usually, I'd have a hard time finding a relation, serious... But, I can't say no to inspiration when it comes knocking on my door.
This is not a great fic per se; it's probably senseless and stupid but it's all I could come up with at the moment... So, just try reading it and comment on my bizarre imagination if you feel like it.
Now, without further ado...
STAINLESS STEEL
Dancing, that's what she's doing at the moment. She pulls the same moves all the time, yet somehow she always manages to make them look different. She knows I'm observing her, she always does. Once, out of curiosity, I asked her how she knew and she said it was like having warm tongues languidly caressing her skin. She's got interesting ways of pointing things out to me...
According to her, maybe one, two or three girls have danced with her tonight. As if, let's add the words 'dozens of' before 'girls' and it'd be more accurate. She may not acknowledge it but she's such the babe magnet.
Her actions don't really bother me, not now that's it; being like that is part of her personality, just as not caring is part of mine. She would never admit it out loud yet I know she craves all that attention, she simply loves having all heads turn her way and all eyes on her, especially mine...
Ocasionally, those girls' roaming hands stray up or low too far for my tastes; but she seems oblivious. She just dances for the sake of dancing and she rarely does a thing to stop those girls, unless she wants to take a break. At first I used to think she did this to drive me mad with jealousy; now I know no one really interests her. For being such a hottie, she can be as cold as Siberia at times. She swears there's no way of falling for the tricks of those sexually desperate popstar wannabes, especially since she has me to warm her bed at nights... Sometimes, she can be terribly mushy too; but very few get to see her like that.
Now, she's pushing a dark skinned girl away. It means soon she'll be straddling my lap, panting, sweating and smiling; ready to steal my beverage and asking me how I'm doing. It's always the same and it's always different: her smile changes a little or her eyes reflect light in some other pattern unknown and unseen by me.
My standard grunted reply will be met with soft lips pressing against my own, it'll continue until my arms encircle her waist; then, she'll smile again, kiss the tip of my nose and drag me to the dancefloor.
Omph! She's on top of me now, in all her glory; I can't help but stare at her lips. This.Is.Bad., my hormones are never under control when she's this flushed and sexy, it makes me think of...
From above her shoulder I notice many women giving me a deadly glare; if looks could burn, I'd be roasted by now. She snatches my drink and takes a generous swig. "Water?" she asks, making a face. "Why in the world are you having just water?" I only shrug and steal the glass back, somewhat pleased of having surprised her. She giggles a little and leans in to rest her head on my shoulder.
I know we're being all cute and cuddly in one of the loudest and most electrifying clubs in town; it brings a smile to my lips. It's not like we give a damn...
"Ready?" she sensually mumbles into my ear a few minutes later. I nod; she could ask me to do anything in the world and still I'd never say no. Such power she has over me.
Jumping back, she pulls me along and I'm ready to put that dancefloor on fire by her side. Yeah baby, let's show them how it's done.
Threading my fingers with hers, I let her lead my way with no resistance. But, she doesn't stop when we reach the mass of swaying bodies, neither when we're stuck in the middle of it, nor when we reach the furthest point on the wooden floor; she keeps on walking until we're in front of the door with the luminous sign of Emergency Exit above. Where is she taking me? Is this her newfound way of letting me know I'm in for an impromptu make out session?
"I hope you don't mind leaving..." she whispers into the night once we're out. "I just wasn't in the mood for dancing anymore..." I say nothing; she's taken me by surprise again. What is going through her head? "We'll come to get our coats later; now I just want to take a walk."
"Ok..."
And that's exactly what we do. We just walk hand in hand for then or so minutes, pretending to be another couple of ordinary girls in love. I like this, I like holding her hand without worrying if it's right or not, without looking behind our backs half expecting some creep to come and ruin the moment.
Suddenly, she stops and turn to look at me. I'm smitten with her beauty; for some strange reason, maybe because of moonlight, her eyes look different. Alluring, amazing and frightening... They make me shiver. Then she blinks and the illusion is gone.
"What are you looking at?" she teasingly questions. Amusement making her irises widen even more.
"Your eyes..." I reply in a low voice; fascinated by the effect those eyes, the pink colouring of her cheeks and her twisted smile are having on me.
"What about my eyes?" she then asks, intrigue coating her words.
"They're amazing! It's like they're made of steel... stainless steel even!" I comment in excitement. And once I get to analyze the words, I regret them. Just how idiotic this comparison can be?
She remains expressionless for a second or two and this stupid fear takes over me... But instead of finding it weird or inadequate, she throws her head back slightly and lets out her warm, rich laughter.
"I love you too Volkova..." she says a little after, embracing me protectively. "Ready to go get those coats? I noticed you were shivering."
Again, I just nod my reply. Sometimes, it's better to say nothing at all...
This is not a great fic per se; it's probably senseless and stupid but it's all I could come up with at the moment... So, just try reading it and comment on my bizarre imagination if you feel like it.
Now, without further ado...
STAINLESS STEEL
Dancing, that's what she's doing at the moment. She pulls the same moves all the time, yet somehow she always manages to make them look different. She knows I'm observing her, she always does. Once, out of curiosity, I asked her how she knew and she said it was like having warm tongues languidly caressing her skin. She's got interesting ways of pointing things out to me...
According to her, maybe one, two or three girls have danced with her tonight. As if, let's add the words 'dozens of' before 'girls' and it'd be more accurate. She may not acknowledge it but she's such the babe magnet.
Her actions don't really bother me, not now that's it; being like that is part of her personality, just as not caring is part of mine. She would never admit it out loud yet I know she craves all that attention, she simply loves having all heads turn her way and all eyes on her, especially mine...
Ocasionally, those girls' roaming hands stray up or low too far for my tastes; but she seems oblivious. She just dances for the sake of dancing and she rarely does a thing to stop those girls, unless she wants to take a break. At first I used to think she did this to drive me mad with jealousy; now I know no one really interests her. For being such a hottie, she can be as cold as Siberia at times. She swears there's no way of falling for the tricks of those sexually desperate popstar wannabes, especially since she has me to warm her bed at nights... Sometimes, she can be terribly mushy too; but very few get to see her like that.
Now, she's pushing a dark skinned girl away. It means soon she'll be straddling my lap, panting, sweating and smiling; ready to steal my beverage and asking me how I'm doing. It's always the same and it's always different: her smile changes a little or her eyes reflect light in some other pattern unknown and unseen by me.
My standard grunted reply will be met with soft lips pressing against my own, it'll continue until my arms encircle her waist; then, she'll smile again, kiss the tip of my nose and drag me to the dancefloor.
Omph! She's on top of me now, in all her glory; I can't help but stare at her lips. This.Is.Bad., my hormones are never under control when she's this flushed and sexy, it makes me think of...
From above her shoulder I notice many women giving me a deadly glare; if looks could burn, I'd be roasted by now. She snatches my drink and takes a generous swig. "Water?" she asks, making a face. "Why in the world are you having just water?" I only shrug and steal the glass back, somewhat pleased of having surprised her. She giggles a little and leans in to rest her head on my shoulder.
I know we're being all cute and cuddly in one of the loudest and most electrifying clubs in town; it brings a smile to my lips. It's not like we give a damn...
"Ready?" she sensually mumbles into my ear a few minutes later. I nod; she could ask me to do anything in the world and still I'd never say no. Such power she has over me.
Jumping back, she pulls me along and I'm ready to put that dancefloor on fire by her side. Yeah baby, let's show them how it's done.
Threading my fingers with hers, I let her lead my way with no resistance. But, she doesn't stop when we reach the mass of swaying bodies, neither when we're stuck in the middle of it, nor when we reach the furthest point on the wooden floor; she keeps on walking until we're in front of the door with the luminous sign of Emergency Exit above. Where is she taking me? Is this her newfound way of letting me know I'm in for an impromptu make out session?
"I hope you don't mind leaving..." she whispers into the night once we're out. "I just wasn't in the mood for dancing anymore..." I say nothing; she's taken me by surprise again. What is going through her head? "We'll come to get our coats later; now I just want to take a walk."
"Ok..."
And that's exactly what we do. We just walk hand in hand for then or so minutes, pretending to be another couple of ordinary girls in love. I like this, I like holding her hand without worrying if it's right or not, without looking behind our backs half expecting some creep to come and ruin the moment.
Suddenly, she stops and turn to look at me. I'm smitten with her beauty; for some strange reason, maybe because of moonlight, her eyes look different. Alluring, amazing and frightening... They make me shiver. Then she blinks and the illusion is gone.
"What are you looking at?" she teasingly questions. Amusement making her irises widen even more.
"Your eyes..." I reply in a low voice; fascinated by the effect those eyes, the pink colouring of her cheeks and her twisted smile are having on me.
"What about my eyes?" she then asks, intrigue coating her words.
"They're amazing! It's like they're made of steel... stainless steel even!" I comment in excitement. And once I get to analyze the words, I regret them. Just how idiotic this comparison can be?
She remains expressionless for a second or two and this stupid fear takes over me... But instead of finding it weird or inadequate, she throws her head back slightly and lets out her warm, rich laughter.
"I love you too Volkova..." she says a little after, embracing me protectively. "Ready to go get those coats? I noticed you were shivering."
Again, I just nod my reply. Sometimes, it's better to say nothing at all...