Lavender (vignette, M/C, PG-13)
Posted: Tue Jan 20, 2009 10:34 pm
Title: Lavender
Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters
Note: The power of sense-memory drags some demons from Coraline's past.
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--- Lavender ---
An autumnal rustle, silk against silk, as Mick pressed close.
He swept her hair over her shoulder and Coraline purred at the feel of his smile brushing gently against the nape of her neck, trailing kisses from hairline down, feather-light. Cool hands rested on her bare shoulders, thumbs circling, drawing a shiver of response. Reaching up to cover his hand with hers, she closed her eyes, drifting, contentment on her lips.
"I bought you something else to wear to the party," he murmured against her, his kiss replaced by the cold press of glass and the sweet scent of perfume. He stroked the stopper down her spine, tracing a trail of aromatic chill.
She half-turned, the complex blend of rosewood, bergamot, and an unmistakable undernote that caught her, dragging sense-memory from centuries past. The flowing fields of Provence, rippling in the breeze, an ocean of lavender. She was young then, enjoying simple pleasures, barefoot, crushing the scent-filled buds as she twirled, the heady aroma filling her, hands trailing, skirts flowing. It was the scent of her youth, of joy, of the time before, when she thought life was simple.
She closed her eyes, letting the thoughts of innocence flow.
But too soon the delicate sweetness of youth was replaced, overcome by the cloying, scented powder, the perfumed preparations to make her ready for them. Her beauty was her curse; a cherished bounty, a party favour to be traded and used. The violation of the first time, her virginity a prize beyond price, the old, wealthy hands pressing over her, inside her, possessing her, changing her.
She retched, running for the bathroom, Mick at her heels, the door slammed in his face.
"Coraline!" He hammered on the door. "What's the matter? Coraline!"
Heaving over the basin, she turned the faucet, hands trembling. Wincing at the steaming water, she soaked a washcloth and scrubbed, dark drops falling on her gown. Her desperate whimper stopped Mick cold. Tapping lightly now, "Coraline," a whisper, "Open the door." He pressed himself close, craning for her response.
Rubbed raw, only the blessed scent of her own blood brought relief, calmed her, brought her back to the present. Casting the soiled cloth into the trash she ran her fingers across the now-smooth skin, turning to the mirror, checking for traces of her desperate act. Smoothing her hands through her hair, fixing a soothing smile, she opened the door and swept past him, her hand brushing against his chest.
"Coraline, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Mick. It's nothing." She turned up the smile to dazzle and reassure. "I was just a little... overcome." She moved into his arms, his questions crushed by her kiss. "Come. We mustn't be late."
There were some things that were hers alone.
Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters
Note: The power of sense-memory drags some demons from Coraline's past.
*************************************************************************************************************************************
--- Lavender ---
An autumnal rustle, silk against silk, as Mick pressed close.
He swept her hair over her shoulder and Coraline purred at the feel of his smile brushing gently against the nape of her neck, trailing kisses from hairline down, feather-light. Cool hands rested on her bare shoulders, thumbs circling, drawing a shiver of response. Reaching up to cover his hand with hers, she closed her eyes, drifting, contentment on her lips.
"I bought you something else to wear to the party," he murmured against her, his kiss replaced by the cold press of glass and the sweet scent of perfume. He stroked the stopper down her spine, tracing a trail of aromatic chill.
She half-turned, the complex blend of rosewood, bergamot, and an unmistakable undernote that caught her, dragging sense-memory from centuries past. The flowing fields of Provence, rippling in the breeze, an ocean of lavender. She was young then, enjoying simple pleasures, barefoot, crushing the scent-filled buds as she twirled, the heady aroma filling her, hands trailing, skirts flowing. It was the scent of her youth, of joy, of the time before, when she thought life was simple.
She closed her eyes, letting the thoughts of innocence flow.
But too soon the delicate sweetness of youth was replaced, overcome by the cloying, scented powder, the perfumed preparations to make her ready for them. Her beauty was her curse; a cherished bounty, a party favour to be traded and used. The violation of the first time, her virginity a prize beyond price, the old, wealthy hands pressing over her, inside her, possessing her, changing her.
She retched, running for the bathroom, Mick at her heels, the door slammed in his face.
"Coraline!" He hammered on the door. "What's the matter? Coraline!"
Heaving over the basin, she turned the faucet, hands trembling. Wincing at the steaming water, she soaked a washcloth and scrubbed, dark drops falling on her gown. Her desperate whimper stopped Mick cold. Tapping lightly now, "Coraline," a whisper, "Open the door." He pressed himself close, craning for her response.
Rubbed raw, only the blessed scent of her own blood brought relief, calmed her, brought her back to the present. Casting the soiled cloth into the trash she ran her fingers across the now-smooth skin, turning to the mirror, checking for traces of her desperate act. Smoothing her hands through her hair, fixing a soothing smile, she opened the door and swept past him, her hand brushing against his chest.
"Coraline, what's the matter?"
"Nothing, Mick. It's nothing." She turned up the smile to dazzle and reassure. "I was just a little... overcome." She moved into his arms, his questions crushed by her kiss. "Come. We mustn't be late."
There were some things that were hers alone.