Love Spell

Garrett stared at her.  He at once felt weightless, as though all of his burdens were gone, as if they'd never even existed.  Somehow, she had cut his soul free, a balloon floating on the barest of tethers.  He had nowhere to be right then, except with her.  He smiled, and took her hand.  If he could just touch her, she would understand.

"Stop it." Cadence glared at him, pulling her hand away, and turning away.  She muttered under her breath, and he caught the words "damned old woman".  He grabbed her arm so he could see her face.  Her eyes were emeralds glittering, her lips rubies...he lost his train of thought, because Cadence kicked him in the shin. 

 "I'm not a priest," Garrett blurted, still holding her arm.  He needed to tell this woman the truth.  Or close enough. "I'm an actor."

"Mister, what you are is bespelled,"  Cadence said. "You are lovesick, the victim of a powerful love spell, and the only cure is for me to get as far away from you as possible, and hope the symptoms fade."

"That's impossible," Garrett laughed. "Magic doesn't exist.  But you are a goddess. Who wouldn't fall in love with you?" 

He moved in closer, thinking that he might try for a kiss, but Cadence put her palm on his chest.

"Goddess, huh? Whatever. You're a riot, Mister."  Cadence's mouth quirked, a small, hysterical giggle escaping.  "Do you see any other idiots besides you lining up? And magic does too exist. You're experiencing it right now."

"If I agree with you, will you kiss me?"




 

The prompt is the third definition of the word WHATEVER.  Yeah, I didn't think there was such a thing, either, but there it is. 

This continues a story from way back in 2013.

A Little Spice

This continues a story I started here.  I may have been too busy to blog, but I am never too far from a pen and a piece of paper, so I share my doodling with you now.


Granny was waiting for them, they knew. It was time to go home.

That Granny had added an extra piece to her spell, the Wilkerson girls did not know.   She flavored the cauldron with parsnip, lavender, dragon's blood...and a little something else.  It added an extra day to the cooking, this part of the spell, and the fire had to be tended so that the mixture simmered at a constant temperature.  Constant heat meant constant love, Granny knew. 

"Still toiling away?"  Jordan Wilkerson stood in the doorway and smiled at his wife. He was still as gorgeous as the day they met, she realized, although his dark hair was now peppered with gray.  Somehow, he always knew where to find her.

"I'll likely be here all night." Granny stood up, stretching until her bones cracked.  She went to her husband, standing on tiptoe to plant a kiss on familiar lips.  Jordan wrapped her in his arms and held her close.

"You need your sleep, my love," he chided softly.

"Oh, I'll just sleep on the floor by the fire," came the reply.  Jordan shook his head, kissed his wife on the forehead, and left the room.  Granny returned to her task, stirring the pot and chanting.  This time she added basil, inhaling deeply and mingling her exhalations with the aroma emanating from the cauldron. The chanting changed in tone.  Next came apple, almond, and a bit of cayenne for spice.  Granny sneezed.

"Bless you!"

She turned around, startled, to find her husband.  Jordan had dragged a mattress from one of the downstairs bedrooms while she was caught up in her work, and had made up the bed far enough away from the fire to avoid disturbing her.  He lay on his side, naked, glorious in the firelight, and stole the breath right out of her.

Just like the day they met.

"We haven't slept apart in thirty-five years, 'Stanza," Jordan told her, his voice a caress. "We are not about to start now."  He patted the mattress beside him.

"Come here, love."

Granny didn't have to be asked twice.  The cauldron could simmer for a bit, she thought, as she untied her apron on her way to join him.

Later, as Jordan was drifting off to sleep, Granny pulled on her t-shirt.  She watched the love of her life for awhile, a smile on her face.  Then she stood up and moved to the cauldron with renewed purpose.

Her girls were going to come home, and they would bring love with them.