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mood |
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 creative |
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music |
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Dark Chest of Wonders -- Nightwish |
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So yesterday afternoon, while my son was watching TV, I handwrote the rest of my scene. It took some worked, but eventually it started flowing. Then, as I watched TV with my husband last night, ideas came to me on stuff to make it even better when I typed it up. This morning, my husband took my son to a church activity and I stayed home to clean the downstairs (cause we're having company tomorrow) and then I had time left over so I typed up my scene. I rarely say this about my work because I rarely think this, but after I read back through the scene, all I could think was, "Man, I'm awesome!" And since I'm so excited about it, I just can't wait for Teaser Tuesday so instead, I'm gonna do a Sharing Saturday and post a small piece from the scene.
“Riana, wait!” Westley called but she didn’t slow. She heard him crashing after her. A moment later he grabbed her arm and spun her around. “What is wrong?” She kept her expression as neutral as possible, grateful for all the years she’d spent on stage. “Nothing.” “I don’t believe you,” he said. She gaped at him. “Are you calling me a liar?” “If nothing is wrong, then why did you storm off?” “I have things to do.” He crossed his arms and raised a brow as if to say, “Uh-huh.” “Are you unhappy that I won?” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.” “And yet, you gave me your favor.” He fingered the scarf tied around his arm. He seemed almost hurt by her attitude. She clenched her teeth and turned away. Feeling bad about offending him was not a good way to keep her distance. “What is it?” He waited a moment and when she didn’t answer said, “Riana?” She whirled around. He wasn’t going to leave her alone so she might as well give him a piece of her mind. “You want to know what my problem is?” “Aye.” “Your arrogance! I know it wasn’t a battle, but you didn’t take it seriously at all. You could have been hurt.” He grinned, his midnight eyes softening as he studied her face. She nearly forgot why she was upset. “You cared for my welfare?” he asked. She caught herself in time. “No! I just didn’t want to see anyone killed. I don’t think I have the stomach for it.” His grin never wavered. “You needn’t have worried. Ruben and I are like brothers. He would not have hurt me. This was naught but sport. Had it been real, I’d have taken it seriously.” Much as she wanted to argue that, no comeback formed on her tongue. “Whatever,” she said and turned to go. “Wait.” She sighed. “What?” “Dadro wishes to speak with you.” “Who?” “My father, Tarvik.” “Oh.” Tarvik was his father? Perhaps there was a resemblance between them. She’d have to look for it later. Wait, what was she thinking? She shouldn’t care about that.
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