half of something else

one of the things i don't like about writing is that when i'm focused on a particular character or story, like isabel and her circles, another character, like cate, will interrupt me with hers.

such was the case last night as i was driving into houston to the magnolia hotel, where i'd chosen to stay on the eve of the meineke car care bowl (which the aggies won, by the way).

one of things for which i'd asked for christmas was the airborne toxic event's most recent release, all at once. i'd been listening to christina perri's arms in an effort to keep my mind in tune with isa's, because lately, it's been wandering. i've been working on a little playlist, a soundtrack of sorts, for a future rq post. i'd gotten this brainstorm a couple of weeks ago while putting up clothes at target. my head gets crazy, crazy music in it, like i'm taking home a baby bumblebee. i'd gotten a little tired of having stupid tunes in there, so i'd started bringing my phone in with me and setting the player to shuffle. and i'd hear a song and think that fits so-and-so.

so keeping my attention on isabel and reese has been a little more challenging lately because of that, but also because i haven't had much time to write.

last night, i took out perri and put in t.a.t.e. and listened through it until i got stuck on a song: half of something else.

and the following scene of cate and kyle's was born of that.

Cate stood at the bar, half turned toward it, her back to most everyone in the room.

She didn't see Kyle approach her, but she knew he was behind her, knew that if she leaned back a fraction of an inch, her body would be against his. She almost did so. Almost.

He bent his head down, just enough that his gaze fell more on the bare, pale and freckled skin of her shoulder than on the bottles of liquor and wine behind the bar.

She didn't see that happen, either, as she was concentrating on the labels of one of those bottles. Her eyes never wandered from it, never strayed.

She stood there, seemingly frozen, though there was a torrent of emotion coursing within her.

She couldn't see him. "What?"

"You look lovely."

She focused more intently on one of the bottles, the frosted glass of Belvedere vodka, the white branches that arched over the black lettering.

A minute passed. Then two. Then he brought his face marginally closer still, so that his breath brushed her neck and cheek. And he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I know that, Joshua Kyle. I can see quite clearly that you are."

"Catie."

She waited. But he said nothing. Just stood there.

"Are you back?" She bowed her head a bit, angled it slightly to her left, toward him. But still, she couldn't see him.

"No."

"Then there's nothing to say, is there?" She managed to scoot a stool aside, quietly, and step out of reach, never once meeting his gaze, so she didn't see him watch her walk away. Didn't hear him say, "I miss you."

(c) twenty-ten. jennifer k. griffin, otherwise known as c.c. this publication is the exclusive property of c.c. and is protected under the united states copyright act of nineteen seventy-six and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws. the contents of this post, and any other c.c.-crafted picky post for that matter, may not be reproduced as a whole or in part, by any means whatsoever, without c.c.'s consent. all rights reserved. in other words, steal this, and i will follow you to the depths of hell and the edge of forever and kick your puny, thieving ass. thanks. :]

read about the rest of the gang here.

and the song? it sounds a lot better on the cd. sort of magical in parts. but here's the gist:



this's (ended up being) a matlock project. learn about that here.

but before you go, perhaps i could tempt you to linger at picky and peruse the free swag i am offering. ten fine films. come get yours.