Word #152

[katiefoolery.livejournal.com]

Here's your word for the week!

Don't look at the word until you are ready to write. When your fifteen minutes are up and you have completed your ficlet, you may either post it as a response here, or post a link to the ficlet in your own journal. If posting on your own journal, please hide the prompt word in some way (ie. under an LJ-cut) in order to avoid spoiling it for others.

Today's word is: brush

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<b>Title:</b> <b>Fandom/original:</b> <b>Characters:</b> <b>Rating:</b> <b>Word count:</b>

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[moonlitxmelody.livejournal.com]

She forced herself up through layers of unconsciousness, summoned back to wakefulness by a soft touch against her cheek. As she surfaced, she was aware of a strange stillness. The clock did not tick. The fan had stopped. The very silence itself rang within her ears, deafening her.

And still, that touch; a light brushing ghosting across her skin. She tried to open her eyes, but a gentle whisper stopped her.

"No."

Soft flutters touched her eyelids like the soft kisses of butterfly wings. A burning built behind them. Something was wrong, but at the moment, the feeling was overshadowed by a rightness she could not explain.

Who was with her? Why could she not hear them breathing, feel the heat of their body as they leaned over her. Inhaling slowly, she lifted her hand, her fingers seeking the hand that was now cupping her cheek. All she felt was a breath of warm air.

Fear. Where was it? She should feel fear. She could not. All she felt was a warm contentment that poured through her in waves. It swelled and retreated, swelled and retreated, rocking her within its embrace. Her heart yearned to see, to behold what she could not touch, but what she could feel clearer than anything she had ever known.

"Now," the voice whispered.

Her eyes opened. There was nothing save the darkness. Then, ever so slowly, a golden radiance began to fill the room. It was an ethereal glow, an otherworldly light, but it did not frighten her. Her breath caught, and she clutched at the warmth against her cheek, her fingers curling into her palm.

"Please," she breathed, though for what she pleaded she did not know.

"Look at me, little one."

Blinking, she refocused her eyes, gazing up into a gentle face framed by brilliant red locks. The being's hair flowed about his shoulders in a breeze she could not feel, his jade eyes staring down into hers with a love so tender and deep she could feel it tugging at the very threads of her soul.

Tears streamed from her eyes, rolling into her hair as she beheld this benevolent stranger who bent over her so protectively. Instinctively she knew this meant something, but for the life of her she could not say what. Why had this angelic figure come to her? Was it a warning? A reassurance? A sign?

The being smiled at her.

"Nay, child. It is a murder."