#WritingPrompt...Tuesday?
Hey guys, I'm back with another photo writing prompt. I know I usually do them on Wednesday, but sometimes as I'm scrolling along Pexels, a picture triggers a scene for me. The picture for this week totally jumped out at me. It took me a couple of paragraphs to understand where I was going with it, but I got the hang of it and the story started spinning for me. Here is the image:
She stared at the ancient machine, her mind spinning with
thoughts of another time. A time when she was carefree, happier than she was
now. The fresh blush of youth colored everything for her, including…she cut off
that thought. The sewing machine sat mostly abandoned in her sunroom, mere
decoration at this point. She didn’t use it anymore. Precisely for the memories
it brought up. Beyond the glass walls of the sunroom, boats bobbed along the
dock, swaying in the fall wind. It was a sight that normally she found comfort in.
Never had she wanted to get on one of those boats and sail away as bad as she
did today.
She clutched the mug in her hand. The hot tea had the
ceramic warm against her palms. It was a relief, really. It balanced out the
cold taking over the rest of her body. She licked her lips and took a deep
breath, turning back to her guest. Could she call him that? He’d seen so much
of her, inside and out. Did that familiarity take away his guest status? She
shivered as memories of the silken slide of sheets and his roughened hands
played through her mind. She studied Luke, her eyes tracing over his smooth chestnut
skin. His handsome face was framed by his close cropped fade, his beard immaculately
groomed, low against his strong jaw. His low hair cut exposed the pointed tips
of his ears, not that he’d ever try to hide them. It was a source of pride to
them all.
He was fucking hot…still…and it made her want to throw her
mug against the wall just to hear it shatter.
“Raine?”
His deep voice was the same, and held the same power over
her. Damn him. She cleared her throat and finally raised her gaze to his eyes.
His dark heated stare tried to pull her back into those memories of them. She
couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. She lifted a brow instead.
He sighed and leaned back in her wooden dining room chair. “Even
after all this time, we can’t just talk?”
Anger shot through her. The lights throughout the house
flickered in response. “You haven’t come to talk to me, you’ve come to ask a
favor. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
Luke tucked his hands into the pockets of the black, —probably
exorbitantly expensive— wool pea coat he wore, stretching out his legs. His
thick dark brows lowered and he studied her.
“You’re still angry?”
She scoffed, but didn’t answer.
“If things were different then…”
“Don’t come trying to sell me wolf tickets. In no world can
an Aziza Prince marry a lowly seamstress, pretending things were different is
for children. State your business and leave.” Raine dropped all pretense of
polite disinterest.
It hurt having him in the home she worked so hard to get.
She’d worked her ass off to blend into the human world and attain her
comfortable lifestyle. Just two minutes in his presence was taking her back to
that young malleable and lovesick fool she’d been. Sneaking kisses from the
prince, dreaming of a life outside of her family’s small cottage on the edge of
the Aziza kingdom. Luke smiled, the same smile that had talked her into dark
corners of the royal estate.
He looked around, his curious gaze taking in the gold, bell
shaped pendant lights hanging over the antique wooden table. He looked down at
polished tile that ran the length of her kitchen and flowed out to the dining
area, ending at the dark wooden floors that covered the rest of the living
area.
“Not so lowly,” was his comment as he met her eyes again.
“What have you come for, Luke?” She refused to let his
comment warm her.
“Raine,” he sat forward, putting his forearms on the table
between them. “Something has happened.”
“Does it have anything to do with the rumors that the Aziza
are coming out to humans?” She was a fashion designer in the human façade she’d
built for herself. Many of her fabrics came from the same Azizan textile
manufacturers she’d worked with when she was a palace employee. She’d kept
abreast of all things gossip coming from the kingdom as a result.
“So you know?”
“It’s true?” Her eyes widened and she put down her mug,
surprise flowing through her.
Not that she doubted gossip, but the rumor had been so
outlandish that she’d dismissed it outright.
“Images of our hunters were caught on human technology, more
than once. Jervis thinks the time for hiding is done.”
Raine swallowed a growl at the mention of his brother. “Your
father is king, what does he say?”
He sat back, wiping a hand down his face. “Baba is old-fashioned,
he wants to offer our technology and magic to the humans in an exchange.”
“And Jervis wants war?”
“To his way of thinking, humans are warmongers. They’ll
likely react to our presence with violence.”
Raine sighed and shook her head. She couldn’t argue either
of their points. She’d lived among the humans for fifteen years. She lifted her
cup and sipped at her tea wincing at the temperature. Using her magic she
warmed it again. She thought about what it would look like, this world where
Aziza and humans coexisted. The warehouse where she and her other Aziza
coworkers wrought the delicate, decadent lingerie she designed and with the
help of magic was a closely guarded secret. How would humans react if they knew
there were actual magic beings in their world under their nose? She shook her
head and decided that it wasn’t her business what the Azizan royal family did.
She was safely ensconced as a human. If worse came to worst, she could ride out
and weather whatever came from it.
“What do you want from me? Insight on the humans? Your
family has spies for that.” The Tedana family employed a cadre of people whose
only job was keeping track of humans and their world.
Luke drummed his fingers on the top of her table. She
shuddered in memory of how those same fingers brought her pleasure.
“I have a tentative plan for how to ease our coming out.”
His lids lowered and he licked his lips. “And it involves you.”
“Me,” she sputtered, dripping tea on her blouse.
She stood and walked over to the kitchen counter, using a
paper towel to wipe the front of her shirt, stalling. He followed her, leaning
against the kitchen island, his arms crossed over his chest.
“I want you to marry me.”
He dropped it so casual, so fucking….so…ergh!
She whipped around and narrowed her eyes. She felt her ears
rising, poking through her straightened hair. She was so damn mad. How dare he?
How dare he come into her home and dangle the one thing she’d wanted more than
anything as though it were nothing, an afterthought to him.
“Leave,” she hissed.
“Wait. Hear me out, Raine.”
“Fuck you, Prince Lucas Marcel Tedana. Fuck you, get out.”
He didn’t move, but his jaw flexed, the only outward sign of
his anger. “I’m not trying to hurt you, Raine, you have to know that.”
“How would I know that? You manage to hurt me every time we’re
together.”
He flinched, pain flickering in his eyes before he lowered
his gaze. “Raine…I.” He stepped closer to her, his arms falling down to his
sides. “The circumstances weren’t right for us.”
“But now they are? Whatever, Luke.” She pushed past him,
headed for her garage. If he wouldn’t leave, she would.
He grabbed her arm as she passed. “Please, Raine, I just
need a few minutes of your time. Please.”
Her shoulders deflated at the plea in his tone. “Say what
you have to say and get out of my house.” She whispered.
He released her arm and put distance between them. She was
glad he’d done it because despite her anger and bravado, she’d never been able
to resist his touch.
“The humans are fond of their tabloids and you’re famous in
their world. I want to convince my father that marriage between us will help
introduce the Aziza to the humans.”
“You cannot be serious?” Shock held her in place. Shock and
to her utter humiliation…longing.
“I’m very serious. You’re already known to them. If you come
out as Aziza and marry into the Azizan royal family, the ensuing spectacle
would ease the way.”
She moved to the stools at her kitchen island and flopped
down. She put her head onto the counter and took a few deep breaths. She looked
up after a few moments of silence.
“Your plan is to throw me under the bus?”
The fucking audacity.
“No, not at all, Raine, I would be there with you.”
She snorted. “Oh, like you were those many years ago? You’ll
be there as your mother embarrasses me in front of the entire royal court?” She
stood, rage making her hands shake. “You’ll be there like you were when she
kicked me out and banned me from the kingdom?”
“Raine, I was—”
“You were a coward! I didn’t come to the human world because
I wanted to. I was forced here to escape the constant ridicule from our people.
And now you want me to help those same people?”
Anger lit his eyes, his magic crackling around him. “I am
not a coward. Duty to the kingdom comes first! I had a job to do. Had I known
what my mother was up to, I would never have left you behind.”
“Pretty story now that everything is over,” she snapped.
“It’s not a story, Raine. I loved you with every ounce of my
being. I damn near died when I found out you’d left. You think I would have
allowed that to happen to you?” He grabbed her shoulders.
She slapped away his hands, refusing to meet his eyes. “Get
out. I’ve heard what you had to say, and my answer is no.”
He stared at her, his face torn, emotions flowing across his
face, easy to read. Raine had never had a problem reading Luke’s face. He was
an open book to her, never hiding behind the face he put on for everyone else.
She was scared of what she read on his face in this moment. It threatened to
rewrite years of what she believed.
“I’ll try again in a few days when you’ve calmed down,” he
said softly, backing away from her.
“Don’t come back.” She worked hard to make sure the plea in
her heart didn’t reflect in her voice.
Their gazes crashed, years of anger, lost love and desperate
tears fell between them. She wouldn’t let him stray her from the path she’d set
for herself. She refused to get pulled into the whirlwind that was Luke.
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