bookblather (
bookblather) wrote in
rainbowfic2012-05-03 11:18 pm
Green 6, Blush 7: Sweet Nothings
Author: Kat
Title: Sweet Nothings
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Green 6 (green-eyed monster), blush 7 (sweet nothings) with Isana's paint-by-numbers (How Yvonne pries Hugh from Theresa.)
Supplies and Materials: Miniature collection, stained glass, brush (lunette), stain (It's not a matter of whether or not someone's watching over you. It's just a question of their intentions. -Randy K. Milholland), feathers (Sometimes you have to get to know someone really well to realize you're really strangers.--Mary Tyler Moore), reimaging (Theft), canvas, charcoal (hiya, Yvonne).
Word Count: 400.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Yvonne is up to something.
Warnings: Yvonne.
Notes: Nope.
Yvonne is up to something.
Theresa pauses in the doorway and narrows her eyes at the sight of her sister seated beside Hugh, hair braided, gaze modestly cast down. Yvonne has never been modest in her life. She must have a motive, but Theresa can't figure it out.
Still, she doesn't like this.
"There you are," she says, brightly, and Yvonne jumps. Hugh pulls away from her as if he's been burned.
"Theresa," he says, smiling.
"Yvonne, could you go get some tea?" Theresa asks. Her sister lowers her eyes again, murmurs acquiesence.
Oh, yes.
Yvonne is up to something.
--
Lucy arranges her butter cookies on a tray, carefully setting the little sugared crescents side by side. They're Hugh's favorite, as is the aromatic jasmine tea that Theresa sips so beautifully.
If only Adam was still alive. He would be so happy to see his older daughter falling in love.
She can hear Theresa in the living room, speaking in that bright, brittle tone she adopts around Yvonne, and frowns. Yvonne shouldn't be in there. Hugh is no concern of hers.
Adam could always control Yvonne. She was his daughter, never Lucy's.
She wishes he was still alive, so much.
--
Yvonne keeps him company while Theresa primps. Sweet of her, but then he'd known she was sweet. She's always been so kind to him; kinder than Theresa, sometimes. She's shyer than Theresa-- but not, he thinks, because she fears him.
Theresa comes just as Yvonne brushes a butterfly touch across his hand. He jumps, guilty-- Yvonne flinches away, drops her eyes. She may not fear him, but she fears her sister, and it worries him.
It doesn't matter. He loves Theresa. Her sister is sweet, but not for him.
If he keeps telling himself that, maybe he'll believe it again.
--
It's working.
Yvonne can barely contain her glee. It's working. She can see it in Hugh's eyes, every time she touches him, every time they're in the same room. He's worried about her, and interested by her, and aroused, she thinks, though he does his best to hide it. Soon enough, she'll entice him into saying or doing something he can't take back, and then he's hers.
Theresa's suspicious. Something will have to be done about that.
She's so close now. So close to getting what's hers. What she deserves.
She will not let Theresa steal it from her again.
Title: Sweet Nothings
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Green 6 (green-eyed monster), blush 7 (sweet nothings) with Isana's paint-by-numbers (How Yvonne pries Hugh from Theresa.)
Supplies and Materials: Miniature collection, stained glass, brush (lunette), stain (It's not a matter of whether or not someone's watching over you. It's just a question of their intentions. -Randy K. Milholland), feathers (Sometimes you have to get to know someone really well to realize you're really strangers.--Mary Tyler Moore), reimaging (Theft), canvas, charcoal (hiya, Yvonne).
Word Count: 400.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Yvonne is up to something.
Warnings: Yvonne.
Notes: Nope.
Yvonne is up to something.
Theresa pauses in the doorway and narrows her eyes at the sight of her sister seated beside Hugh, hair braided, gaze modestly cast down. Yvonne has never been modest in her life. She must have a motive, but Theresa can't figure it out.
Still, she doesn't like this.
"There you are," she says, brightly, and Yvonne jumps. Hugh pulls away from her as if he's been burned.
"Theresa," he says, smiling.
"Yvonne, could you go get some tea?" Theresa asks. Her sister lowers her eyes again, murmurs acquiesence.
Oh, yes.
Yvonne is up to something.
--
Lucy arranges her butter cookies on a tray, carefully setting the little sugared crescents side by side. They're Hugh's favorite, as is the aromatic jasmine tea that Theresa sips so beautifully.
If only Adam was still alive. He would be so happy to see his older daughter falling in love.
She can hear Theresa in the living room, speaking in that bright, brittle tone she adopts around Yvonne, and frowns. Yvonne shouldn't be in there. Hugh is no concern of hers.
Adam could always control Yvonne. She was his daughter, never Lucy's.
She wishes he was still alive, so much.
--
Yvonne keeps him company while Theresa primps. Sweet of her, but then he'd known she was sweet. She's always been so kind to him; kinder than Theresa, sometimes. She's shyer than Theresa-- but not, he thinks, because she fears him.
Theresa comes just as Yvonne brushes a butterfly touch across his hand. He jumps, guilty-- Yvonne flinches away, drops her eyes. She may not fear him, but she fears her sister, and it worries him.
It doesn't matter. He loves Theresa. Her sister is sweet, but not for him.
If he keeps telling himself that, maybe he'll believe it again.
--
It's working.
Yvonne can barely contain her glee. It's working. She can see it in Hugh's eyes, every time she touches him, every time they're in the same room. He's worried about her, and interested by her, and aroused, she thinks, though he does his best to hide it. Soon enough, she'll entice him into saying or doing something he can't take back, and then he's hers.
Theresa's suspicious. Something will have to be done about that.
She's so close now. So close to getting what's hers. What she deserves.
She will not let Theresa steal it from her again.

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Thank you.
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Thank you!
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I'm wondering if she just wants Hugh to herself, or if there's also an element of wanting to steal away a piece of her sister's happiness? I got the impression they don't get along, though I could be reading too much into it.
Great piece!
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And no, they don't get along at all.
Thank you.
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Poor Theresa.
Well done!
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Thank you!
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YEAH THAT ABOUT SUMS IT UP.
Do I wash myself or do I try to wash her? Serious question there.
Ahem. I enjoy how this fic captured both the tense atmosphere and also butter cookies; Yvonne's Yvonne, spiteful glee.
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