Characters: Mal, OC Disclaimer: The author makes no
claim to owning the rights of anything to do with Terry Pratchett or Discworld.
Evidence
The room is dusty. That could be a problem. I can see the footprints I've made already, sharp pointed toes followed by the dots of stiletto heels. There will be another set of footprints joining them shortly. After that, who knows what will follow. Cobwebs cling to the walls — no safety there. Too easy to find our way back to the salon not realizing that the evidence of our crime is clinging to our gowns. I hear the click of the latch, and my breath catches in my throat despite myself. I sniff the air, and know it's her — even before the door opens, even over all this dust. I can tell her scent anywhere. "I came as soon as I could," she whispers, catching me in her arms as the door swings shut behind her. "Not soon enough!" I murmur, pulling her close, long red hair spilling over my arms. "I haven't been able to think straight since you left." "I missed you," she says, and her eyes say Kiss me! "I missed you," I tell her, and claim her mouth for my own. |