Salmon Pink (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
salmon_pink) wrote2011-01-12 07:37 pm
salmon_pink) wrote2011-01-12 07:37 pm
(One Piece) Nicorette
Title: Nicorette
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Nami/Sanji
Rating: PG
Words: 319
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_women, prompt "taste".
She doesn’t like the taste, yet she can’t help but reach for them. The box is slightly crumpled, rolled over in her lack of patience, and Nami holds it up to examine it as if she hasn’t done so a dozen times before. Brand logo, nothing too cheap, but not the most expensive available, not by a long shot. Just pricey enough to be recognisable, but not too flashy.
She flicks open the top, peels back the foil, and pulls out a cigarette.
They always seem too neat to her, mass-produced and each the same as the last. Nothing like the hand-rolled version she was so used to seeing as a child, but sometimes she thinks that might be better.
Wouldn’t want them to be identical to her memories. Needs to keep them in the present.
The lighter clicks open, wheel sparking under her thumb, and she slides the cigarette between her lips and holds it over the flame for longer than necessary.
She always takes more than she should with that first drag, but she doesn’t hold onto the smoke, doesn’t try to breathe it in deeply. Just lets it swirl out around her, lazily coiling through the air, and she settles back against the pillows and rakes a hand through her dishevelled hair.
It smells like Sanji; the cigarettes, the room, her own skin, and her free hand reaches for him instinctively, brushes hair from his sleeping face. Can’t help the affectionate smile when he stirs slightly, arms reaching for her, although she knows he won’t wake.
The smoke never quite reminds her in the way she wants it to, because she associates it too closely with him. But something about the taste of it, no matter how much she may dislike the acrid tang on her tongue, sets her at ease.
And then there’s just peace, and memories, and Bellemere’s face is hazy through the smoke.
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Nami/Sanji
Rating: PG
Words: 319
Notes: For
100_women, prompt "taste".She doesn’t like the taste, yet she can’t help but reach for them. The box is slightly crumpled, rolled over in her lack of patience, and Nami holds it up to examine it as if she hasn’t done so a dozen times before. Brand logo, nothing too cheap, but not the most expensive available, not by a long shot. Just pricey enough to be recognisable, but not too flashy.
She flicks open the top, peels back the foil, and pulls out a cigarette.
They always seem too neat to her, mass-produced and each the same as the last. Nothing like the hand-rolled version she was so used to seeing as a child, but sometimes she thinks that might be better.
Wouldn’t want them to be identical to her memories. Needs to keep them in the present.
The lighter clicks open, wheel sparking under her thumb, and she slides the cigarette between her lips and holds it over the flame for longer than necessary.
She always takes more than she should with that first drag, but she doesn’t hold onto the smoke, doesn’t try to breathe it in deeply. Just lets it swirl out around her, lazily coiling through the air, and she settles back against the pillows and rakes a hand through her dishevelled hair.
It smells like Sanji; the cigarettes, the room, her own skin, and her free hand reaches for him instinctively, brushes hair from his sleeping face. Can’t help the affectionate smile when he stirs slightly, arms reaching for her, although she knows he won’t wake.
The smoke never quite reminds her in the way she wants it to, because she associates it too closely with him. But something about the taste of it, no matter how much she may dislike the acrid tang on her tongue, sets her at ease.
And then there’s just peace, and memories, and Bellemere’s face is hazy through the smoke.