The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

Lazy Days

Feb
20

“Let’s go train, turtles!” Rak announced to the occupants of Khun’s room, that is Bam and Khun.

Khun looked up from his lighthouse work (which he was doing from the comfort of his bed) and blinked. “No, today’s a lazy day.”

Rak scoffed.

Bam looked curious. “What do you mean?”

“Come here.” Khun made room and Bam curled up against him, then sighed softly as he relaxed his head against Khun’s shoulder.

Rak waxed eloquent on the merits of hard work. (Khun was quite familiar with those merits, having been obligated to train hard since his childhood every time another life and death contest loomed.)

Bam burrowed closer and tucked his face against Khun’s neck, clearly quite comfortable.

“Come on, Black Turtle. You and I will go train!”

Bam muttered something indecipherable. Khun smirked.

“What did he say?” Rak demanded.

“He sees the appeal.” Khun stayed on his lighthouse, enjoying Rak’s jaw agape, and plotted and schemed their next victory.

Light Me Up

Jul
24

The campfire flickered orange and gold across Khun’s face, bathing him in a wash of light and warmth. He was beautiful. Bam knew he was beautiful, smiling that crooked, smug grin as he pressed Bam’s stick back into his hand, a toasted marshmallow on the end. (more…)