So, because I have nothing else on my plate at the moment (::rolls eyes::), I decided to sign up for Fictionista Workshop's WitFit for the month of March. I actually signed up in January, but never got around to participating. I'll post the stuff that I write for that here. For more deets on the fuckawesome Fictionista Workshop and WitFit, link's in my profile.
I plan to try to make it into one cohesive story, but uh, who knows how that'll work out. lol This is unedited, so …yeah.
Original or Derivative (fanfiction): DERIVATIVE
Rating: T (*gasp*)
Genre: AH - Family/Romance
Warning(s)/Note(s): um, this is unedited, so there you go. Oh and there's no smut. Yet.
Disclaimer: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.
Word Prompt: Press
Scenario: After a long day at work, you stop for dinner at your favorite restaurant. However, there is long wait for a table, so you're left standing in the corner. You're stressed, worn-out, and irritated by the noise, the small child tugging on your jacket, and the stranger staring at you, but you refuse to leave. Using all the elements and emotions, describe what happens next.
Loud voices and sounds pressed down on me as my eyes scanned the crowded restaurant. Luca was tugging on my jacket, begging me to pick him up. It had been an exceptionally long and tedious day in the office today—practically everything that could go wrong, had.
Looking down at my four-year-old son, I shook my head before picking him up. "What is it, big man?"
"I'm hungwry, Mamma," he whined, holding my face between his chubby fingers as he looked at me with tired eyes. I could feel the uncomfortable weight of peoples' stares on us, worried that my child was about to cause some sort of commotion.
"I know you are, that's why we're here, sweetness," I whispered to him, hoping that the hostess heard him and would seat us soon. What the hell was taking so long? It was just the two of us, and I had called ahead on my way after picking Luca up from his preschool.
It was true—I could just take the easy way out, leave the restaurant and pick up take-out on the way home. This day had been awful; nothing would make it better except my favorite dish, and that was only available here. Plus, I was too tired to clean up even the silverware at home if we got our meal to go. We weren't leaving until we got to eat.
Luca looked at me for a second before leaning forward and planting a big, wet kiss on my nose. "We have soccer today?" he asked, hope evident in his voice.
"Nope, not today, buddy. Today's Monday. You go tomorrow to soccer."
Just as his little face fell and his lip started to poke out in an adorable but all-too-familiar pout, the hostess finally called my name and gestured for us to follow. I scanned the area to be sure I wasn't leaving anything behind when I saw him.
He was looking right at me, his focus alternating between me and Luca. His brow furrowed a bit as he met my gaze as he stared at us for another moment. As his intense green eyes connected with mine, causing my breath to hitch and my skin to tingle with an unexplainable electricity, he lifted the corner of his mouth and smirked at me.
Even though the hostess called out for me again, I stood rooted to the spot. I couldn't move. He was stalking toward us.
"Well, at last, I finally get to meet Luca's beautiful mom."
"Forgive me, I met Garrett and Luca at a single dad's playgroup a few months ago. I'm Edward Cullen. He talks about you all the time, you know."
"Um, who does?" I stammered out, looking and feeling like a total moron.
He chuckled before reaching for my hand. He grasped it and brought it up to his full, perfect lips before flashing me a dazzling smile. "Both of them, actually," he whispered before pressing his lips to the back of my hand. "I was referring to Luca, though."
In that moment, everything seemed surreal. The chaos and commotion of the room melted away as I focused on the man in front of me. He was beautiful. His intense eyes, the coppery-brown of his messy hair, his chiseled jaw, and for the love of god, the way his light green scrubs clung to and accentuated his muscular chest. I didn't dare let my gaze travel any further south.
"Miss?" the nasally voice of the hostess permeated my thoughts, startling me as I pulled my hand from Edward Cullen's grasp. "Your table for two is ready," she sneered, clearly indicating to everyone around us, including Edward, that I was eating at a nice restaurant alone with my kid.
I started walking toward her when I felt Edward's hand pressed to my lower back. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said to the waitress, "make that a table for three."