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To beta or not to beta, that is the question.
I have a fic nearly ready to go. I tweak or two and I'm done. However, it's a little different. Non-linear. I'd like to run it past a few people. I really would. I think it makes sense, but I know what I think is going on.
I doubt anyone reads this, but I'd love a volunteer to look it over, check for spelling, see if I'm crazy. Gimme a shout, eh?
[][ No ][]
Hand on her cheek, warm and calloused. Thumb across her lips, brushing across, then back, then across once more with just enough pressure to part them.
"Carter . . ." nearly only an exhalation, and she wonders if it's wrong to hope that her name will be one of the last words to go. No.
She sighs, leans into his palm, lets her tongue dart out to moisten dry lips, watches as he watches. Says "Sir . . . " like he said her name, and it seems right that after all this time, now that they are here, names don't change.
"Want you . . ." he lets it trail off, lets the silence and those two words say a hundred, a thousand he doesn't dare speak, because they might not come out in English.
Love you. Want you. Need you, need this before I'm gone. Love this patch of skin right here under your eye but above your cheek. Feel you. How did we wait so long? Hate this. Need you. Love you. You.
No. She closes her eyes. Too much. She needs things said, now that he can't.
I have a fic nearly ready to go. I tweak or two and I'm done. However, it's a little different. Non-linear. I'd like to run it past a few people. I really would. I think it makes sense, but I know what I think is going on.
I doubt anyone reads this, but I'd love a volunteer to look it over, check for spelling, see if I'm crazy. Gimme a shout, eh?
[][ No ][]
Hand on her cheek, warm and calloused. Thumb across her lips, brushing across, then back, then across once more with just enough pressure to part them.
"Carter . . ." nearly only an exhalation, and she wonders if it's wrong to hope that her name will be one of the last words to go. No.
She sighs, leans into his palm, lets her tongue dart out to moisten dry lips, watches as he watches. Says "Sir . . . " like he said her name, and it seems right that after all this time, now that they are here, names don't change.
"Want you . . ." he lets it trail off, lets the silence and those two words say a hundred, a thousand he doesn't dare speak, because they might not come out in English.
Love you. Want you. Need you, need this before I'm gone. Love this patch of skin right here under your eye but above your cheek. Feel you. How did we wait so long? Hate this. Need you. Love you. You.
No. She closes her eyes. Too much. She needs things said, now that he can't.
