Fic: Bliss
Feb. 20th, 2015 12:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meridian_roseTitle: Bliss
Fandom: Original work
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 457
Prompt: For the![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
allbingo valentine/anti valentine prompt "Candle lit dinner for one"
Summary: Alone does not have to mean lonely
Notes: I've tagged this fic "asexuality spectrum" because while the orientation of the character is unspecified she can be read as asexual, and the fic is itself gen and, I believe, ace-friendly
She put her keys in the glass bowl by the door, hung up her coat, kicked off her shoes. She padded upstairs, tossed her handbag onto the colourful bedspread, and unpinned her hair. She undressed without delicacy, stripping off her white blouse, her dark trousers, her comfortable bra, her not-at-all-sexy cotton knickers.
Now disrobed, she took a long shower, revelling in the warmth of the water against her skin, the scent of her lavender bodywash, the tea tree shampoo which she worked with strong fingers through her dark locks.
At last she turned off the water. She wrapped herself in a soft, cream coloured, bath sheet and combed her hair. Deodorant, a dab of perfume at her cleavage. A favourite necklace, a chunk of amethyst on a contrastingly delicate silver chain, was placed around her neck, and she replaced her gold stud earrings with matching amethyst.
She chose slightly more sexy but still comfortable knickers, white with a gentle swirling pattern of pink lines and purple butterflies, and a figure hugging white camisole top. From the wardrobe she pulled out her lilac dress, velvet that fell to mid-calf, with thin straps and a scooped neckline. It glided over her clean skin and she smoothed it over her torso and thighs, admiring herself in the mirror.
She pinned half her hair back with a black elastic. It wouldn't fall in her face but the soft tresses still danced about her shoulders. She didn't bother with shoes.
Back downstairs, she switched on the television, answering questions posed on the evening quiz show, laughing in delight when she got one right, as she moved around the kitchen. The preparations she'd made earlier paid off and soon the smell of food filled the room, while she laid the table with her best cutlery. She lit a tall white candle and poured red wine.
With a sigh of contentment she finally sat down and offered a brief thanks for all she had. She ate without rushing, enjoying each mouthful, pausing now and then to partake of the rich claret. There was a chocolate pudding in the fridge waiting for the right moment. She leant back in the chair, watching the candle flame burning steadily, a welcome source of heat and light against the cold winter night outside.
There was something to be said for dining with friends, for dining in a restaurant, things she did enjoy. But there was also something satisfying in taking the time – to relish - being one's own dinner companion, for treating herself with the affection that society usually demanded others provide, for dressing and cooking to please only herself. No arguments, no expectations, no compromises, just a moment of bliss. Alone did not have to mean lonely.
Fandom: Original work
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 457
Prompt: For the
allbingo valentine/anti valentine prompt "Candle lit dinner for one"Summary: Alone does not have to mean lonely
Notes: I've tagged this fic "asexuality spectrum" because while the orientation of the character is unspecified she can be read as asexual, and the fic is itself gen and, I believe, ace-friendly
She put her keys in the glass bowl by the door, hung up her coat, kicked off her shoes. She padded upstairs, tossed her handbag onto the colourful bedspread, and unpinned her hair. She undressed without delicacy, stripping off her white blouse, her dark trousers, her comfortable bra, her not-at-all-sexy cotton knickers.
Now disrobed, she took a long shower, revelling in the warmth of the water against her skin, the scent of her lavender bodywash, the tea tree shampoo which she worked with strong fingers through her dark locks.
At last she turned off the water. She wrapped herself in a soft, cream coloured, bath sheet and combed her hair. Deodorant, a dab of perfume at her cleavage. A favourite necklace, a chunk of amethyst on a contrastingly delicate silver chain, was placed around her neck, and she replaced her gold stud earrings with matching amethyst.
She chose slightly more sexy but still comfortable knickers, white with a gentle swirling pattern of pink lines and purple butterflies, and a figure hugging white camisole top. From the wardrobe she pulled out her lilac dress, velvet that fell to mid-calf, with thin straps and a scooped neckline. It glided over her clean skin and she smoothed it over her torso and thighs, admiring herself in the mirror.
She pinned half her hair back with a black elastic. It wouldn't fall in her face but the soft tresses still danced about her shoulders. She didn't bother with shoes.
Back downstairs, she switched on the television, answering questions posed on the evening quiz show, laughing in delight when she got one right, as she moved around the kitchen. The preparations she'd made earlier paid off and soon the smell of food filled the room, while she laid the table with her best cutlery. She lit a tall white candle and poured red wine.
With a sigh of contentment she finally sat down and offered a brief thanks for all she had. She ate without rushing, enjoying each mouthful, pausing now and then to partake of the rich claret. There was a chocolate pudding in the fridge waiting for the right moment. She leant back in the chair, watching the candle flame burning steadily, a welcome source of heat and light against the cold winter night outside.
There was something to be said for dining with friends, for dining in a restaurant, things she did enjoy. But there was also something satisfying in taking the time – to relish - being one's own dinner companion, for treating herself with the affection that society usually demanded others provide, for dressing and cooking to please only herself. No arguments, no expectations, no compromises, just a moment of bliss. Alone did not have to mean lonely.
