fff#80

this fff was a scene and a half, too many damn ideas and none coming together; but i think i like how it eventually did, even if it take so long i do absolutely zero finessing. this is totally a 1st draft, which i never, ever, ever put out into the world, but fff is to experiment, right? so, flash fiction friday #80; [inclusions] trigger: root, fruit, truth, youth, brute.

she lift her face, slowly lift her mouth, pulling up the corners of her lips, and then her cheeks, allowing her lips to part, slightly, and making sure to crinkle the corners of her eyes; never forget the eyes, make it look real. she tilt her head one side and let the expression linger, trying to keep it alive. very important, life, in facial expressions, if you want to be believed. and she did. she allow herself to lick her lips, knowing how it would read.
his voice cut through her intense concentration on their faces, what hers was doing and how his was reacting; she watched his mouth make words.
“but first you need to listen to your bullerman friend…”
she consider rolling her eyes. probably the expected response but was the actual effort necessary? he continue talking with only briefest pause; it wasn’t.
“…and ditch this tacky look.”
good thing she decide to conserve her energy+effort before because now the eyeroll was necessary; friends like this were so much work.
“fine, ignore my good advice. doh say nobody never tell you truth about this…mess…” he waved expansively in her direction, encompassing her whole self.
she wasn’t sure how to respond but know she wasn’t changing a damn thing.
her bullerman friend was uninformed about her intentions. if she wanted what her bullerman friend presume she want from the youthman, possibly-tacky mighta be cause for concern but her bullerman friend’s concern was rooted in a deeply wrong assumption about her reason for suddenly taking on said youth. after months of his not-even-remotely subtle advances she had had enough and decide was time. he didn’t know yet but would find out soon enough. is not like she need him to prepare; his surprise would be half her fun. and in that spirit, she was keeping it spontaneous. even though she decide days ago it going down, she didn’t decide until right then when he come up in the oldtalk and she find herself saying she so bored she studying to check him, that it was right now. as the “feel I going and…” tumble from her mouth and she see the reaction them words make, decision done. it was on. if only the youthman were getting lucky like how her bullerman friend imagine…
possibly-tacky was actually perfect. she just happen to be wearing clothes she eh really care about, so when she bring the real surprise, potential mess wouldn’t matter; everything she had on could burn after. not her bullerman friend fault he eh know all that; plenty he eh need to know. she just needed to give herself something, to make the wait more bearable. the youthman would be a gift, an entertainment, a briefly-thrilling diversion, while waiting to reap the fruit of her labours on this patiently-cultivated friendship. and her bullerman friend would be worth the work. all the smiling, laughing, eyerolling, kikiing, feigned interest, faux-scandalosity, carefully curated expressions of “i feel you!”, all would be worthwhile, when her bullerman friend open the door she desperately want to enter and give access to her ultimate desire. the youthman could even be a practise for how she intend to finish off the one she waiting to encounter when she get through…
she thought of the youthman inevitable shock when he realise sex was not all she come to take from him, and feel something like a smirk developing. she use it the easiest way; let it happen, let it grow, let it be, real, at least, as real as she’s get, then,
“is real long since i indulge mehself…i going and have my way with that, every which way, all how. he only feel he in big people ting but he eh ready for me. all the talk he talk all these months, i go use+abuse that boy tonight tonight. when i done with he so, he go cyah make a note.”
“oooh! et tu, yuh brute? yesss, destruction of man in yuh pwef!”
“when i come so, tha’ youthman eh go know what hit him.”
she pull up the corner of her lip, intending to make a devilish smile, not even realising how close to real it become…

walk good.