"Ghost Of A Touch"
By Coral
Disclaimer: Paramount, etc, uzw.
In answer to Lissa's Challenge, I present.. *drumroll* a fic of 55 words. :)
This gets dedicated to Lissa, I guess... It's
her fault! *g*
=/\=
The touch sent a thrill through
her, as always. Every time Chakotay's hands touched her she
felt the same way, as if someone were trailing icy fire through
her whole body. Today was no different, despite the fact
that his hands weren't so... substantial?
Then she remembered, with a start - Chakotay had
died yesterday. =/\=
E-mail Coral :: Coral's Fic :: JetCJr10
Disclaimer: Naja, all Paramount's.. if they can find me, they can sue me...
To Lissa, for making me stay up to half one writing the thing!
=/\=
She's in bed, awake, her eyes staring as if
they could see the bulkheads and out to the stars. I
position myself in her line of vision, so that, for a moment, I
can fancy that she is gazing at me with those soulful grey eyes
of hers. As I watch, a tear slips down her cheek, leaving a
trail of glistening wetness.
I can't bear to see her like this. Her eyes should be
bright with lovelight or joy at all times, not sad
like this. Leaning forward, I brush the tear gently from
her cheek, letting fingers linger ever so briefly
as I do so.
She stirs slightly.
I didn't expect that reaction - I didn't expect her to feel it at
all.
She whispers my name in a quiet voice. Maybe it sounds
slightly frightened, maybe it doesn't - I'm too engrossed in
drinking in the very sight and sound of her to notice. Then
she sits up in bed, looking around her. For a few moments,
she looks right at me, and I wonder if she can see me too.
But the moment passes, and her gaze shifts. She looks
around the room once more before obviously deciding that her
imagination was just being overactive. I can tell that
she's already starting to convince herself she was dreaming as
she starts to drift to sleep at last.
I don't know how long I stay, watching her as her chest rises and
falls in a regular pattern. The only
sound is her breathing, and it centres me.
Finally, I rise. As I did each morning, I brush my lips
against hers as I leave. Then, I turn to go,
leaving her to her dreams.
There's a ghost of a smile on her face; and, on mine, the smile
of a ghost... =/\=