“Mmmhmm. Apples are traditionally symbolic of temptation.”
“Honestly?”
“You picked truth, didn’t you, your majesty?”
He smiled. “It just seemed so cliché. I had to have a little freedom. Your subconscious didn’t give me all that much room to maneuver.”
“That’s it?”
“Does there need to be more?”
“I suppose not.”
“My turn, then. Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“So boring.”
“Says the man who just picked truth himself.”
He smiled again. “Why were you so fixated on David Bowie as a teenager?”
It was my turn to blink. “What?”
“I mentioned I had little room to maneuver? There was no room at all on appearance. Not one whit, right down to the mismatched eyes. Do you have any idea how disorienting it is to have one eye permanently dilated?” He leveled those eyes right at me. “Well?”
I blushed furiously. “I’m taking a pass on this one.”
He looked pointedly at the drinks in front of us. “You know the penalty.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I picked up the toe-curling concoction he’d put together for me and took a swig. It burned all the way going down with that particular alcoholic fury which guaranteed a serious hangover in the morning. I squinted at him. “How come you never pass on any of my questions?”
He took a hearty swig of his own concoction and leaned into me. “Perhaps you just haven’t found the right ones.”
I blinked muzzily. “You didn’t have to drink. You didn’t pass on a truth or dare.”
“True.
“Are you trying to purposefully join me in drunken splendor?”
His smile was like wildfire as he leaned even closer. “Could be.”
no subject
2017-11-15 19:42 (UTC)Drabble:
“Truth.”
“Okay...why not an apple?”
Jareth blinked slowly. “Instead of a peach?”
“Mmmhmm. Apples are traditionally symbolic of temptation.”
“Honestly?”
“You picked truth, didn’t you, your majesty?”
He smiled. “It just seemed so cliché. I had to have a little freedom. Your subconscious didn’t give me all that much room to maneuver.”
“That’s it?”
“Does there need to be more?”
“I suppose not.”
“My turn, then. Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“So boring.”
“Says the man who just picked truth himself.”
He smiled again. “Why were you so fixated on David Bowie as a teenager?”
It was my turn to blink. “What?”
“I mentioned I had little room to maneuver? There was no room at all on appearance. Not one whit, right down to the mismatched eyes. Do you have any idea how disorienting it is to have one eye permanently dilated?” He leveled those eyes right at me. “Well?”
I blushed furiously. “I’m taking a pass on this one.”
He looked pointedly at the drinks in front of us. “You know the penalty.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I picked up the toe-curling concoction he’d put together for me and took a swig. It burned all the way going down with that particular alcoholic fury which guaranteed a serious hangover in the morning. I squinted at him. “How come you never pass on any of my questions?”
He took a hearty swig of his own concoction and leaned into me. “Perhaps you just haven’t found the right ones.”
I blinked muzzily. “You didn’t have to drink. You didn’t pass on a truth or dare.”
“True.
“Are you trying to purposefully join me in drunken splendor?”
His smile was like wildfire as he leaned even closer. “Could be.”
I touched my nose to his. “Cheater.”
“All in the eye of the beholder.”