I think the endless description of their eyes, clothes and hair is supposed to show us that they can hardly keep their hands off each other. Because that's what people who are really turned on think about, right?
A deliciously heavy breeze fluttered through the magnificent boughs of the oak tree, twining through the greenery and flora. Late-blooming wisteria wavered and trembled underneath the gentle breath of the wind, and one delicate violet flower loosened itself from the tethers of vines and moss. The silky purple bud traveled through the air, the bright explosion of color tantalizing and seductive as it drifted on the wind. The spray of lavender twisted and turned gracefully, like the tulle tutu of a floral ballerina, and it wafted and waved through the ancient city.
Underneath the lantern's light, the vibrant red color of the wine danced and glowed like fire. It was the color of mellifluous rubies and garnets, like sparkling jeweled liquefied into nothing more than honeyed gemstones. It was the exact color of Scully's shirt, and both shone in synchrony beneath the rich glow of the lantern. The only difference was that she was more tantalizing than the wine.
But at least he could taste the wine. He couldn't taste her.
OH BUT HE CAN. FORESHADOWING! ALSO PURPLE PROSE ALERT.
The description of the wine goes on for another full paragraph. I think this is what we used to call "food porn" before Instagram. There is a lot of food porn herein.
He would only be here a couple more weeks anyway, before he would return to Washington and she would return to her dull, typical Southern life. But that didn't mean that she couldn't have two weeks with him. Fourteen days, if that, spent in his arms and inhis world. An escape from the boundaries and concise territories of logic and reason - a little foray into the impossible.
Perhaps she should consider this one extreme possibility.
Perhaps she should. GO FOR IT DANA.
Lifting her chin proudly, Scully turned around to face Mulder, and she started chuckling at what stood behind him.
"That's my house," she said, and Mulder turned around to take it in.
The bright canary house stood shaded by billowing willow trees and one meandering oak, both shadowed with sprinklings of Spanish moss. An iron-wrought gate surrounded the residence, intertwined with pineapples and wisteria in a fashion that was elegant and enigmatic, just like the house's owner. A round balcony protruded from the front of the house, surrounded by white railing, and Mulder imagined her standing on it, looking out at the ocean, searching for something that only she could find.
"It's beautiful," Mulder murmured, and Scully smiled a little in gratitude.
"Thanks," she said. "Do you want to come in?"
His only reply was a satisfied smile.
FINALLY. THANK GOD. Also, I want this house.
I have to say I like her descriptions of place much, much better than the weather and Mulder's constantly changing eye color.
WHAT! FELLATIO BUT NO CUNNILINGUS! I AM SHOCKED! SHOCKED!
Edit:
On a more serious note, we're over a quarter of the way through this, we've already had one sex scene, but we still don't have any real sense of who the killer is. I think that's a mistake. By this time, we should have been in his head at least once, at least that's how it always works in the crime novels I've read. Syntax6 always gets us into the killer's head and always has at least one bogus suspect, too, which is how it's supposed to be done.
I am annoyed by the nightmares about the life they aren't living. I consider them a needless distraction at this point. We get it. Mulder and Scully are meant to be together.
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winterfish
Part 2 Chapters 10-12
Date: 2014-04-02 08:31 pm (UTC)A deliciously heavy breeze fluttered through the magnificent boughs of the oak tree, twining through the greenery and flora. Late-blooming wisteria wavered and trembled underneath the gentle breath of the wind, and one delicate violet flower loosened itself from the tethers of vines and moss. The silky purple bud traveled through the air, the bright explosion of color tantalizing and seductive as it drifted on the wind. The spray of lavender twisted and turned gracefully, like the tulle tutu of a floral ballerina, and it wafted and waved through the ancient city.
Underneath the lantern's light, the vibrant red color of the wine danced and glowed like fire. It was the color of mellifluous rubies and garnets, like sparkling jeweled liquefied into nothing more than honeyed gemstones. It was the exact color of Scully's shirt, and both shone in synchrony beneath the rich glow of the lantern. The only difference was that she was more tantalizing than the wine.
But at least he could taste the wine. He couldn't taste her.
OH BUT HE CAN. FORESHADOWING! ALSO PURPLE PROSE ALERT.
The description of the wine goes on for another full paragraph. I think this is what we used to call "food porn" before Instagram. There is a lot of food porn herein.
He would only be here a couple more weeks anyway, before he would return to Washington and she would return to her dull, typical Southern life. But that didn't mean that she couldn't have two weeks with him. Fourteen days, if that, spent in his arms and inhis world. An escape from the boundaries and concise territories of logic and reason - a little foray into the impossible.
Perhaps she should consider this one extreme possibility.
Perhaps she should. GO FOR IT DANA.
Lifting her chin proudly, Scully turned around to face Mulder, and she started chuckling at what stood behind him.
"That's my house," she said, and Mulder turned around to take it in.
The bright canary house stood shaded by billowing willow trees and one meandering oak, both shadowed with sprinklings of Spanish moss. An iron-wrought gate surrounded the residence, intertwined with pineapples and wisteria in a fashion that was elegant and enigmatic, just like the house's owner. A round balcony protruded from the front of the house, surrounded by white railing, and Mulder imagined her standing on it, looking out at the ocean, searching for something that only she could find.
"It's beautiful," Mulder murmured, and Scully smiled a little in gratitude.
"Thanks," she said. "Do you want to come in?"
His only reply was a satisfied smile.
FINALLY. THANK GOD. Also, I want this house.
I have to say I like her descriptions of place much, much better than the weather and Mulder's constantly changing eye color.
WHAT! FELLATIO BUT NO CUNNILINGUS! I AM SHOCKED! SHOCKED!
Edit:
On a more serious note, we're over a quarter of the way through this, we've already had one sex scene, but we still don't have any real sense of who the killer is. I think that's a mistake. By this time, we should have been in his head at least once, at least that's how it always works in the crime novels I've read. Syntax6 always gets us into the killer's head and always has at least one bogus suspect, too, which is how it's supposed to be done.
I am annoyed by the nightmares about the life they aren't living. I consider them a needless distraction at this point. We get it. Mulder and Scully are meant to be together.