Work Text:
The view from the terrace is worth the steep climb up stone steps, overlooking gnarled trees on the slope below, a sliver of brightest blue in the distance.
Q fills his glass from the chilled bottle, the cool tartness unlike anything that would make it to England. Special reserve for the rare visitor, and for those who’ve never left this breezy hillside redolent with turned earth, crushed fruit, and goats.
The wine warms in his mouth, the taste shifting from bright to sweet to musky, like morning kisses.
He lets the sound of wind in the trees fade back into the incessant murmurs and keystrokes of Q Branch. The task light at his workstation glints off the photo as he puts the postcard into his bottom desk drawer with the others.

FoxsoulCourt Thu 27 Jul 2023 04:05AM UTC
Last Edited Thu 27 Jul 2023 03:07PM UTC
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amusensical Sat 28 Oct 2023 02:43AM UTC
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thestalwartheart Thu 27 Jul 2023 04:06AM UTC
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