Fandom: Terra Nova
Pairing: Luckye/Lucket aka Lucas Taylor/Skye Tate.
Warnings: Drabbles. Yes, that's a warning for me. :)
Disclaimer: I may not own this show, but I'm probably just as pissed as 20th Century and Spielberg.
Summary: Mini!challenge fill! Two drabbles for one prompt cause I'm an indecisive human being.
She sits alone, legs tucked beneath her, tea warming her hands and face lifted to the night sky. The stars shimmer brightly in the moonless expanse, one falling across the dark; out of heaven, from grace, losing eternal life, beauty, to rest with the wicked. Finds herself kin to that bright mass hurtling through space as she recalls how she fell from the Colony's favor into the arms of its enemy and she casts a wish, a prayer, a silent breath of hope, that he lives and maybe someday understands and forgives her for all she's done.
It is her eyes he notices; after the soft curves, the thick hair he imagines twined around his fingers, the fullness of her lips; it is her eyes. They are bright like starlight, with a twinkle of mischievousness, a glimmer of fierce hope, survival, shades of pain, and colors of defiance. For the first time he understands why men have written poems, sonnets to a woman's eyes and writes his own in glowing letters and symbols splashed across darkness that reminisce of moonless skies.
A/N: Not my best work, but meh. There's only so many times you can rewrite three sentences before going totally batty. So yes, I'm surrendering on these two and hopefully next time, I'll be getting the hang of this short!fic thing. :)