Meme from, oh, everyone by now.

[nineveh_uk]

Give me the title of a story I've never written, and feedback telling me what you liked best about it, and I will tell you any of: the first sentence, the last sentence, the thing that made me want to write it, the biggest problem I had while writing it, why it almost never got posted, the scene that hit the cutting room floor but that I wish I'd been able to salvage, or something else that I want readers to know.

Comments

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

Peter, who couldn't help noticing things whatever he was doing, turned, opened the drawer and pulled out the gun in one smooth movement.

"It won't work," said an amused voice.

"Harriet!"

She laughed. She was perched upon the chest of drawers, her skin faintly luminscent in the dim light.

"What are you doing here?"

"I like watching you sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping."

"I know. You breathe differently when you sleep. What were you doing?" she finished curiously.

"Thinking about you."

"You're so sweet, Peter." Her voice was low and sensual. "I wish I could marry you."

He blinked, and she was sitting on the bed, her cold hand against his cheek. Peter shivered.

"I'm sorry. Am I making you cold?"

"Quite the contrary," he grinned.

"You ought to be asleep - you have to be out with Charles in the morning."

"Damn Charles!"

"Don't say that! You don't know what you mean. I haven't done anything to upset you, have I? I mean, why were you awake."

"I really don't think a gentleman ought to say."

"But I could help."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. I love you."

Peter swallowed. "Get in then. And give me your hand." He curled his fingers round her open hand, and curled that -

He had never known her move so fast.

"Peter! That's disgusting!"

"You said you wanted to help."

"I thought you meant to sleep! Or with your problems!"

"My problems?" His breathing calmed. "My problems, Harriet, boil down to the girl who says she loves me and is my eternal soulmate, but won't marry me, won't kiss me, and won't even let me look after myself."

"It's a sin!"

"It's human."

"I'm not human, Peter."

"No, you're not, are you?" He sighed. "Well, this is it Harriet. I've tried. God knows I have. I love you. And I'd have waited any amount of time if I could hope. But there's no hope, is there - and let's face it, I'm not getting any younger. I think you should leave now."

"I'm sorry, Peter." The curtain twitched, and she was gone. Peter sighed, replaced the gun, and took out a small notepad on which he scrawled Bunter, tickets for Vienna, and composed himself for sleep - in ten minutes or so.

[tree_and_leaf]

*sporfles*

Run, Peter! Find yourself a nice, human, opera singer!

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

A nice opera singer who may not have the body of a marble tribute to some forgotten pagan god, but will be warm, sane, and unlikely to rip your head off in the heat of passion (or impregnate you with a killer vampire baby).

[tree_and_leaf]

Yeowch. Sparkly MPREG. How horrific!

Opera singers definitely preferable. Even terrifying Wagnerian sopranos...

[azdak.livejournal.com]

ROTFL! Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear - poor Peter, no outlets for his manly frustration. Let's hope Harriet doesn't come back to watch him again and spot the note...

[nineveh-uk.livejournal.com]

Especially as I fear Edward!Harriet would take it upon herself to follow him for his own protection.

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

Better than any amounts of canon!

And this would be the sane response to any refusing-to-comit-or-leave sparkly immortal! Bella would do well to take note.