Three Words Challenge 03: “But…Why’s the Rum Gone?”
fuscia toe nail polish
3 day notice
“Wake up.” I kick him in his side, my toes feeling between his ribs, toenails painted a blinding fuscia. Pan stirs with a grunt, tattoos writhing twining up and down his flank, curling up and over to his upper arms, trailing lazily curling up against his elbows slithering toward his wrists. He rolls over and is sound asleep all over again. I lean over him.
Reminds me of the first day of Le Terreur. He didn’t wake up until the mob was nearly at Versailles, nearly right outside of our window. Until we were blood-spattered and pounding through the streets, slapping on glamour like armor, literally running for our lives.
I shake the thought away. How scared he’d been. How he’d said it reminded him of the War of the Four Courts, that last night when Titania had been murdered and the Dark/Winter Courts attacked. The night when the War ended, more or less.
His eyelids flutter REM speed, like a morse code piece I can’t translate. I resist the urge to put my hand on his scruffy cheek.
So I slap him instead. Hard.
“Jesus Fuck, Morgause, what?” He roars, sitting up, only to find me in his lap. “You’re not Morgause.” He rubs his eyes as I kiss the cheek I slapped.
My smile is wide. “Correct.” I let my pink wings trail down one tattooed arm. “I came to give you a three day notice.”
“Couldn’t you have done it with a little less slapping and a little more sexy?” He groans, “Asmo, sweetheart, really.”
“Three day notice, Pan. You gotta pay up your bar tab at Candyland.”
“Why?” He looks so tired, not even hungover but just tired.
“Because Levi and I got a three day notice ourselves from our liquor suppliers. We gotta get money from you to help pay for it, since your tab is quite significant.”
He falls back against the pillows and closes his eyes with a wince. “Shit. Forgot about that.” Waves vaguely toward his bureau where his wallet is. “Take the Onyx card. Just charge it to that.”
“Will it clear?”
“Yes.” He opens his eyes again with a glare. “It will.”
I hop off of him, fish the Onyx card out of his wallet. “We thank you for your patronage.”
“Yeah, yeah, now fuck off and let me sleep.” Pan grumbles but I see his smile as he curls back in on himself and falls back asleep.
Three Words Challenge 04: “Spring.”
“And this is my newest batch of olive oil.” Kannon poured me a sample, Lea brought a bunch of fresh-baked bread to properly taste with. I swiped the bread through the oil, notice a flowery tang that wasn’t in her other batches.
“Tastes like flowers.” I muttered, pouring more and shoving more warm bread in my mouth. The ceiling sparkled with mica stars among the crown molding. I’m barely awake, Morgana’s still asleep, and only because Kannon’s been obsessing over winning the county fair prize for her oils am I even halfway coherent.
“I added irises from Pan’s Grove. What do you think?”
“Tastes better than the last batch.”
Lea turned to Kannon. “I told you adding apples was a bad idea.”
But Kannon just shrugged. “Now I know what works, at least. Peggy McHill won’t be winning the award this year.” She smiles, and it’s brighter than anything in the room. But it’s also fierce. “I’ve got Hound taste-o-vision to help me.”