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Poetic License

Posted on Thu Jun 3rd, 2021 @ 3:59pm by Lieutenant Commander Feyd Relor

Mission: Shore Leave
Location: Paris, Earth
Timeline: Current

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[Paris Hotel]

Feyd looked up from his watch for the 100th time as Marie and Natasha finally returned from their girl's day out. He was planning to lay into her about making him wait, to ask for an explanation about what the hell could possibly have taken so long, but whatever he was going to say flew right out of his head.

Feyd had read many accounts of men in literature beholding stunning women and not being able to talk, or comic renditions of some dumb idiot standing there with his mouth open. It had never happened to him, so he assumed it was poetic license. It had never happened to him, until now.

One moment he was getting ready to relay his frustration and the next, his entire mind, body and soul were completely consumed by drinking in the stunning vision of Natasha Grimm. Normally, under such circumstances, his brain would be cataloging the physiological responses happening in the moment, but now, all he could do was stare, and he found speech didn't operate the way it was supposed to.

Finally, after a long moment, what seemed like an eternity, he found his voice.

"Uhhhh...Wow."

Natasha's smile lit up the room, the sea green dress making her eyes sparkle in the low light. His heart felt like it was in his throat, and he could literally feel his pours. Blood pounded in his ears and he couldn't breathe. He finally knew what the word breathtaking meant.

"Sorry for the delay, Doctor Relor. It seems the time kind of just...flew right passed."

Feyd swallowed, hard.

"Uh, no problem." He said, moving toward her. He thought the moment would pass, but it just kept stretching out. He was having a hard time forming coherent thoughts. "Well then. You uh...look..."

He stopped. How do you describe to a woman that she's literally the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? How do you explain the feelings you have? Words couldn't do it and it seemed asinine to try. He reached out, and placed a hand delicately on her cheek, careful as can be, afraid he would break the porcelain that was her skin. She was warm to the touch.

He locked eyes with her, finally finding his words.

"You are so beautiful."

Off:

Lieutenant Commander Feyd Relor
Chief Medical Officer
USS Independence

 

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