Tangible Schizophrenia


Sunday Afternoon

Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Sands/El/Carolina
Feedback: Just a yea or nay's good, but I adore meaty comments.
Disclaimer: Not mine, or my life would be a lot more…explosive.
Notes: //words// in Spanish.
Summary: Snippet from 'Trio'-verse. For fuzipenguin in return for the icon.


Sunlight whisked warmth over her skin and painted it with laziness. Carolina yawned and stretched, then settled back on the bed to stare at the boots propped next to her head. She reached out a finger and spun that lone spur. "Why just one?"

The guitar continued for a few more second before El dropped his fingers from strings to the man pillowed down in his lap. "What?"

"One spur. Your feet don't match." She moved her legs around till she could knead Sands' hip with her toes. He grunted and batted at them, so she massaged higher and poked at his side. "It looks odd."

"Well, we don't match either," the American muttered, grabbing one ankle and tickling her foot until she shrieked and smacked him.

El lifted his guitar free of the ensuing tussle and put it away before dragging them apart. He slung them to either side of him, holding them well apart from each other. "I like it. That's why. I think it looks good."

//You have very odd tastes//, Carolina snorted, twisting around to kiss his neck. She met Sands' mouth there and let it overlap, mixing the flavors. Sunshine was comfortably beaming into her hair, and the hand at her waist curved up to stroke over her breast. She sighed, giving herself up to the moment.


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