Okay, hi!!! It has taken so long to write the next bit! I have had so much
coursework this last year! I haven't had time :/ But anyway… yeah,
here's the next bit. Oh and some of you still don't understand about the
age thing, Meggie is 14 and Dustfinger is 15, it's explained how it
happened in the story =] and thank you sooooo much WordNazi for your
great reviews its really encouraging me to write more. Sorry again for it
taking so long!
He carried her through the front door into the large living room, unwillingly
leaving Meggie to continue her snuffling sobs on the sofa. He headed quickly
towards the impossibly large kitchen; his plan was to make her a real hot
chocolate like her aunt used to when she was ill or upset, except he had
absolutely no idea where to start. He rummaged through the multitude of
cupboards for the cocoa powder, and upon finding a tin with several layers of
dust on it, promptly gave up. Now what? Tea: that he could do.
He re-emerged bearing two steaming mugs towards Meggie. When she saw
him she choked slightly on her laugh, as she struggled to regain control of her
tears, "Thank you Dustfinger,"
She stood up and placed her mug on the coffee table the second he had
handed it to her then slowly, unsure, stepped towards him, she reached out
and wrapped her arms cautiously around his middle, uncertain of how he
would react. He did not complain so, on her tiptoes she stretched the
remaining few inches to his lips and kissed him softly "Really. Thank you," and
wrapped her arms tighter around his waist. Dustfinger gently returned the hug,
resting his chin on the top of her head. Gently he began to rub the small of her
back in a soothingly motion with one hand.
"It's ok" he replied, raising her chin from his chest with his other hand to look
at her face, he whispered quietly
"I love you Meggie." She looked up into his eyes and saw what lay behind
them that she had failed to see out of choice for the last few years. Because
of the grief for the lost of Farid, of Moe, of her Aunt. She saw the truth laid
before her. How Dustfinger, not the man that had entertained her with fire in
the grounds of this very house, but the boy that he had been so long before
she had met him and who stood before her now, truly felt about her. He had
laid his soul bare to her in that second and there he was, desperately waiting
for her response, urgently wanting her to cover the vulnerable point he had
exposed, his eyes beseeching her to reply. She desperately wanted to return
the feelings that she could feel radiating towards her, had felt the beginning of
them rooting inside her heart. She desperately wanted to just forget about
everything else, about Farid. But she couldn't. She pulled away.
"I have to go," she slipped out of his hold and forced herself to the stairs.
Turning at the bottom to gaze at his tormented face
"It's not you Dustfinger, but I'm not ready yet. I still haven't let go of Farid."
I think I'm improving slowly at the whole writing bit ;) Again it isn't very
long. But PLEASE review so I can get a few more ideas. Thanks . I was
going to do the next chapter from an old friend's POV, shan't tell you
who though hehe. Also thinking about a possible Basta POV but I need
some ideas of what he should be doing etc. so could you review and
give me some ideas? Pretty please!