Sliced: Difference between revisions
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Sliced is a story written by [[Domashita Romero]]. It ran in [[Issue 35]] at http://s2b2.livejournal.com/207248.html, and is mirrored at http://www.shousetsubangbang.com/mirror/sliced/. | ''Sliced'' is a story written by [[Domashita Romero]]. It ran in [[Issue 35]] at http://s2b2.livejournal.com/207248.html, and is mirrored at http://www.shousetsubangbang.com/mirror/sliced/. | ||
== Summary == | |||
<blockquote>Chef Kassa didn't seem like a crier, but Edward did see a tell-tale rapid flutter of eyelashes when he saw his dessert, his poor downfall of a dessert, revealed when he lifted the cloche. Edward knew the cameras were sucking up every little ounce of emotion on his face. The poor kid got himself together quickly enough with a thick breath that made his nostrils flare, and he shook the hand of Chef Patrice, the winner. | |||
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"Thank you, this was an honor," he said, only a little flutter in his voice, and shook the hands of each of the judges. He took Edward's last; his hand was warm and a little damp with nerves, and Edward gave his long fingers a solid squeeze. He managed to smile at him before walking off set, the poor kid, the poor cute kid. Sometimes it felt good to deliver the news, but damn if this time he didn't feel personally guilty. He'd been rooting for him.</blockquote> | |||
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Revision as of 02:42, 17 May 2014
Sliced is a story written by Domashita Romero. It ran in Issue 35 at http://s2b2.livejournal.com/207248.html, and is mirrored at http://www.shousetsubangbang.com/mirror/sliced/.
Summary
Chef Kassa didn't seem like a crier, but Edward did see a tell-tale rapid flutter of eyelashes when he saw his dessert, his poor downfall of a dessert, revealed when he lifted the cloche. Edward knew the cameras were sucking up every little ounce of emotion on his face. The poor kid got himself together quickly enough with a thick breath that made his nostrils flare, and he shook the hand of Chef Patrice, the winner.
"Thank you, this was an honor," he said, only a little flutter in his voice, and shook the hands of each of the judges. He took Edward's last; his hand was warm and a little damp with nerves, and Edward gave his long fingers a solid squeeze. He managed to smile at him before walking off set, the poor kid, the poor cute kid. Sometimes it felt good to deliver the news, but damn if this time he didn't feel personally guilty. He'd been rooting for him.
