Picture 2
Aleea Davidson’s Picture Choice: 2
Title: Sunflower Daydream
A/N Taking a short break from Wither. Part 10 will be up next time around.
It's late summertime lush. Deep down end of August heat boiling down from a relentless sun that thinks it has something to prove. Everything green wilts and curls in on itself, the grass baked to a yellow-brown that crackles under your feet, shy parched sounds tickling your soles with every step.
Sunshine baby tips her water bottle, trickling cool liquid over her pink-painted toes. Snug, tiny blue jean shorts cup her ass as she leans over to watch the puddle that briefly forms before the ground sops it up like a sponge.
She annihilates me, and she knows it.
Warm air swirls, blowing through the sunflower fields, giant heads dipping-rippling on their thick green stalks. They reach high, taller than me, faces tipped to the blue sky. Then they rustle and whisper while she stretches, spine popping soft as she unfurls those delicate limbs, raising her arms like she's trying to reach as high as those flowers.
She isn't mine, but I want her to be.
Sticky heat settles low, perspiration prickling the base of my spine. She sighs and looks over her shoulder at me, mischief lighting up those hazel eyes. I know her pretty smile would taste like sunflower seeds and heaven if she'd let me drop kisses on her lips. It's a game we're playing, drifting through our last days of freedom and innocence, balanced on the precarious edge of something new and decadent, undefined and erotic. It shimmers between us like the mirage of heat that drifts iridescent waves where the dirt road ends and Tarmac begins.
She's glorious in her newfound power.
Drop me to my knees, sunshine baby. Push me past the point of no return. Breathe me in and breathe me out; redefine me as a man. When autumn paints her riotous colours across summer's faded out palette, I'll lift you higher than the sunflowers, hold you there, trembling in delicious love. Don't be afraid. I'll catch you when you fall back to earth, and I'll warm you through winter's icy clutch. I'll wash you clean with the spring rain, and when summer lush heat finds us again, I'll still be here. We'll watch the sunflowers grow, and we'll fall in love all over again.
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Aleea lives in her imagination most of the time. It's an interesting place to be... Occasionally she can be coaxed out to chat on Twitter, though she finds it akin to torture to stick to that absurd 140 character limit. (@Aleeab4u)
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Your descriptions create fleeting imagery, defining a moment in a cherished relationship between a father and his child that is soon to end. I can feel his joy and sorrow, knowing he'll have to wait to feel once it again.
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