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Oct. 6th, 2006 02:08 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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onepieceyaoi100Title: Truffles and Soup
Word Count: 180
Topic: Second Best
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sanji + Usopp, ??/Usopp
He wanted to make truffles, not soup. He required no practice with soup, especially oyster soup. He had no cocoa beans, no sugar, and no liqueurs. Therefore, he sauteed the oysters in butter and spices, cream, vegetables and water laid out on the counter, ready for their time. He refused the faint sound of rustling in the room below him, the stifled scuffling as well.
The rich broth ran down his tongue, nutritious and filling, delectable and toothsome, but it held no sweetness. The texture gave him no satisfaction, no warmth. No thin chocolate shell split gently, no creamy ganache rolled against his tongue. No sweat, no velvet wetness rubbing his own. He knew not what those tears tasted of, neither what flavors the tanned skin carried, nor of what silk or scratch the curly hair felt.
The oysters themselves tasted like ocean gone wrong, not poisonous yet disgusting nonetheless. He gagged, his eyes wet. He managed to swallow, brushing his eyes. He picked the mottled, deformed lumps of sea-flesh out, the waxen thick globs useless.
He wanted to make truffles, not soup.
Word Count: 180
Topic: Second Best
Rating: PG
Pairing: Sanji + Usopp, ??/Usopp
He wanted to make truffles, not soup. He required no practice with soup, especially oyster soup. He had no cocoa beans, no sugar, and no liqueurs. Therefore, he sauteed the oysters in butter and spices, cream, vegetables and water laid out on the counter, ready for their time. He refused the faint sound of rustling in the room below him, the stifled scuffling as well.
The rich broth ran down his tongue, nutritious and filling, delectable and toothsome, but it held no sweetness. The texture gave him no satisfaction, no warmth. No thin chocolate shell split gently, no creamy ganache rolled against his tongue. No sweat, no velvet wetness rubbing his own. He knew not what those tears tasted of, neither what flavors the tanned skin carried, nor of what silk or scratch the curly hair felt.
The oysters themselves tasted like ocean gone wrong, not poisonous yet disgusting nonetheless. He gagged, his eyes wet. He managed to swallow, brushing his eyes. He picked the mottled, deformed lumps of sea-flesh out, the waxen thick globs useless.
He wanted to make truffles, not soup.
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Date: 2006-10-06 07:25 pm (UTC)Just...DAMN. Beautifully crafted, lovely word choices, and my favorite pairing too. *memories like a bitch*
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Date: 2006-10-06 07:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-06 07:56 pm (UTC)wow... just wow... its not often that any story could make me go completely silent...
but yeah... words aren't coming out properly because of the AWESOME
so love... lots of love
hehe
~ame
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Date: 2006-10-06 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-06 08:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-06 08:21 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2006-10-09 07:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-07 06:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-09 07:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-07 06:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-09 07:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-09 07:22 am (UTC)