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[24-Nov-2022][All the Boys Love Mandy Lane] Cemetery Fever
Title: Cemetery Fever
Day/Prompt: Time To Risk Your Life/11-24-22
Fandom: All The Boys Love Mandy Lane (2006)
Character/Pairing: Garth/His Unnamed Wife, Garth/Mandy
Rating/Warning(s): Mature just in case. Underage character.
Word Count: 279
Summary: Garth visits his wife. He ends up discussing Mandy Lane.
He lit a candle, and the smell of sickly sweet vanilla drifted in the cold air. The photos of his late wife greeted his eyes, and he smiled at hers.
"I met this girl, and I know what you're going to say." His says. His voice rings out.
He laughs to himself. "Robbing the cradle, Garth. Stealing babies."
Up at the altar by the barn buildings, up the road, Garth visits the place he put his wife to proper rest — and then, her altar. It's weird, having one, but it makes him feel better. Talking to her.
Tonight, he can practically hear her roll her eyes and laugh at him. Til' death did them part; she wanted him to move on sooner, and he couldn't. Maybe she'd be happy. The Texas air tells him she would. He stills sees her in the shadows of the bed and in every kind soul like her.
"I met her. Mandy Lane, Jesus. I remember her name already." Garth leans his forehead against the wall. "I guess... it was the first time I really saw someone like I saw you."
She would tell him that's a good thing, with a twinkle in her eye and a secretive smile. She was stoic and peaceful, strong-boned and a little taller than most ladies. It's a risk, liking Mandy Lane, and she's got so many men on her tail, anyway. She's young and blossoming; he's an old man. But his wife would laugh at the attraction and tell him to wait the months 'til she's eighteen and do it proper. Do it right and be happy.
"She's real nice."
Garth can hear, "I bet so, honey."
Day/Prompt: Time To Risk Your Life/11-24-22
Fandom: All The Boys Love Mandy Lane (2006)
Character/Pairing: Garth/His Unnamed Wife, Garth/Mandy
Rating/Warning(s): Mature just in case. Underage character.
Word Count: 279
Summary: Garth visits his wife. He ends up discussing Mandy Lane.
He lit a candle, and the smell of sickly sweet vanilla drifted in the cold air. The photos of his late wife greeted his eyes, and he smiled at hers.
"I met this girl, and I know what you're going to say." His says. His voice rings out.
He laughs to himself. "Robbing the cradle, Garth. Stealing babies."
Up at the altar by the barn buildings, up the road, Garth visits the place he put his wife to proper rest — and then, her altar. It's weird, having one, but it makes him feel better. Talking to her.
Tonight, he can practically hear her roll her eyes and laugh at him. Til' death did them part; she wanted him to move on sooner, and he couldn't. Maybe she'd be happy. The Texas air tells him she would. He stills sees her in the shadows of the bed and in every kind soul like her.
"I met her. Mandy Lane, Jesus. I remember her name already." Garth leans his forehead against the wall. "I guess... it was the first time I really saw someone like I saw you."
She would tell him that's a good thing, with a twinkle in her eye and a secretive smile. She was stoic and peaceful, strong-boned and a little taller than most ladies. It's a risk, liking Mandy Lane, and she's got so many men on her tail, anyway. She's young and blossoming; he's an old man. But his wife would laugh at the attraction and tell him to wait the months 'til she's eighteen and do it proper. Do it right and be happy.
"She's real nice."
Garth can hear, "I bet so, honey."