Fandom: Harper's Island
Word Count: 508
Ship(s)/Character(s): Nikki Bolton/Shane Pierce
Summary: His skin was wind chapped from the ocean air and the saltwater splashing up over the edge of the boat; skin went from softness to sandpaper but under her fingertips it was a welcome feeling.
Notes: Mentions of violence and sex.
His skin was wind chapped from the ocean air and the saltwater splashing up over the edge of the boat; skin went from softness to sandpaper but under her fingertips it was a welcome feeling. His lips tasted of the sea; his tongue tasted of the liquid he drains from the tumblers the instant she fills them up. His fingers are calloused against her skin, a rough texture she could get used to so very quickly.
It’s easy sometimes to pretend that she hates him; it’s too easy to pretend sometimes that she barely notices him. She thinks sometimes that he does the things he does- all the fights and the drama and the breaking of glasses and the knocking over of chairs- so that she can’t pretend that he’s not there; she thinks that sometimes he wants to prove to the world that he’s gotten under her thick skin just as much as she’s gotten under his.
What would the people say?
They know who he is and so does she; she knows what he’s done and so does he. He’s never been one of those people that has a kind word to spare, not even for her. And in those nights that she’s lying beneath him and her tongue begs to say his name yet she refuses she wishes she could change that in him, take him in her palms like wet clay and mold him into something better, something different; she wishes that she could fix whatever’s broken inside of him and make him whole again.
It’s funny to think that she was one of the people who said he should be in prison. His violence, his devil may care attitude, his angry words were all just little things that pushed her towards that decision. The tears shed from the impact of his fist; the makeup used to hide the battered skin; the late night calls and sleepless nights all drove her towards hatred. One press of his mouth pulled her back from that.
Her best friend would hate her; the locals would suggest she get some professional help. The world around her wasn’t made for people like them. A warrior to a criminal; a fighter and a monster. Even his own best friend would surely stop and stare and marvel and wonder and never truly get it no matter how many words were spoken to try to explain to him exactly why things are the way they are; why they are the way they are. But when her eyes catch his across the crowded bar she could care less. Still, they don’t tell anyone. They bite down on their tongue and look away; he orders his drink and she serves him. He starts fights that she knows she can’t break up so she calls the sheriff’s department to do the job for her. He cracks jokes meant to insult her; she pretends that she doesn’t notice. He meets her after closing; she leaves before the morning light.
They just keep it their little secret.