Annnnnnd I'm back.
Jul. 21st, 2006 04:39 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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onepieceyaoi100Title: Bittersweet
Word Count: 294.
Rating: PG.
Pairing: Sanji/Usopp.
Topic: Territory. Barely.
Impersonal anger tastes like mushrooms in sharp wine sauce, just like those lying rejected on the plate.
Discovery tastes like lemonade, sweet and sour at the same time but quenching his unspoken, almost unrealized thirst so well.
Friendship tastes like fresh bread, solid and filling and offering a base for a thousand possibilities.
Affection tastes like the tiniest dab of honey, sweet and sticky, leaving him licking his lips hungrily and reaching for just one more taste.
Lust tastes like blood-red peppers, hotter than the most blazing Tabasco Star, scorching him inside and rendering him badly in need of mint-cool soothing.
Love tastes like dark chocolate, bittersweet and rich and as dark as the depths of those clever eyes.
Possessiveness tastes like rare meat, bloody and raw and streaked scarlet, bad for him, he knows, but satisfying nonetheless.
Jealousy tastes like bitter almonds, poisoning him against the pale girl he’s only seen in sketches. He tastes acid-tangy hate and copper-flavored rage, things he’s never directed towards a woman in his life.
Loss tastes like salt, parching his tongue and heart until he must drink or die. But there’s nothing but seawater, sweat, and tears to quench his thirst, and he realizes that he must leave this empty rock in the ocean or lose himself in delirious agony.
Giving up tastes like wedding cake and bad champagne and too many cigarettes smoked alone outside. Finally Nami-san, all mikan-sweet reason, and Robin-chan, her concern sharp like ripe pomegranate seeds, drag him inside. Zoro, in a rare moment of compassion, practically shoves the too-familiar Granny Smith apple of verbal sparring down his throat to distract him from the lingering arsenic aftertaste in his mouth and the final sounds of his bittersweet chocolate being shared with someone else.
Word Count: 294.
Rating: PG.
Pairing: Sanji/Usopp.
Topic: Territory. Barely.
Impersonal anger tastes like mushrooms in sharp wine sauce, just like those lying rejected on the plate.
Discovery tastes like lemonade, sweet and sour at the same time but quenching his unspoken, almost unrealized thirst so well.
Friendship tastes like fresh bread, solid and filling and offering a base for a thousand possibilities.
Affection tastes like the tiniest dab of honey, sweet and sticky, leaving him licking his lips hungrily and reaching for just one more taste.
Lust tastes like blood-red peppers, hotter than the most blazing Tabasco Star, scorching him inside and rendering him badly in need of mint-cool soothing.
Love tastes like dark chocolate, bittersweet and rich and as dark as the depths of those clever eyes.
Possessiveness tastes like rare meat, bloody and raw and streaked scarlet, bad for him, he knows, but satisfying nonetheless.
Jealousy tastes like bitter almonds, poisoning him against the pale girl he’s only seen in sketches. He tastes acid-tangy hate and copper-flavored rage, things he’s never directed towards a woman in his life.
Loss tastes like salt, parching his tongue and heart until he must drink or die. But there’s nothing but seawater, sweat, and tears to quench his thirst, and he realizes that he must leave this empty rock in the ocean or lose himself in delirious agony.
Giving up tastes like wedding cake and bad champagne and too many cigarettes smoked alone outside. Finally Nami-san, all mikan-sweet reason, and Robin-chan, her concern sharp like ripe pomegranate seeds, drag him inside. Zoro, in a rare moment of compassion, practically shoves the too-familiar Granny Smith apple of verbal sparring down his throat to distract him from the lingering arsenic aftertaste in his mouth and the final sounds of his bittersweet chocolate being shared with someone else.
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no subject
Date: 2006-07-21 03:01 pm (UTC)And the progression of Sanji's feelings is just...;_;...especially when loss is associated with saltwater and his 80 days spent waiting for salvation or death.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-22 08:19 am (UTC)NOT dothat on purpose. Green apples and Zoro. Yeah. Totally. >_>;no subject
Date: 2006-07-21 05:51 pm (UTC)But there’s nothing but seawater, sweat, and tears to quench his thirst, and he realizes that he must leave this empty rock in the ocean or lose himself in delirious agony. Love this line.
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Date: 2006-07-22 08:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-23 07:05 pm (UTC)These taste associations fit so well but in slightly off-beat creative ways; discovery and possessiveness worked especially well in my mind. And the last paragraph... poor poor Sanji.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-24 07:37 am (UTC)But seriously, I'm glad you liked it.