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Title: The Temperature of Water Author: seraC Email: seraphcelene[at]yahoo[dot]com A/N: 100 words written for Tha Wrecka on her birthday. Rating: G Archiving: House of Leaves. Everyone else please ask. Summary: She fills the cup just over halfway. Feedback: Is like air, highly necessary. Disclaimer: Firefly and all related characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and sundry others. I’m just taking them out for a little exercise. “Cha Dao,” Inara smiles. “The art of making tea.” River remembers red clay from childhood. Inara’s teapot is elegant black porcelain. River’s hands dance over the cups, between chopsticks and a bamboo scoop. She sips the tea and falters, Inara’s life balances on her lips, washes behind her eyes. This is the good part. The beyond the skin part when she can taste the color of Inara’s eyes, drink up her longing and spit it back into the world. She can look at Mal with knowing eyes, and Simon and Kaylee. Taste the waste of their love and the loss. end |