6. Feanor - Sulriel
Feanor combed through her silken locks. Raven dark, like his. Twirling one around his finger he tugged so she looked up, meeting his soft, radiant smile.
"Mexico?" Even with that simple, single word, his dulcet tones rolled through her, tickling the arches of her feet and settling in a delicious froth in the pit of her stomach.
She swallowed hard and nodded, unable to break his fiery gaze. "New York." Her voice sounded painfully flat compared to his. She cleared her throat.
He raised his hand to brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek. "I like New York."
"Mexico?" Even with that simple, single word, his dulcet tones rolled through her, tickling the arches of her feet and settling in a delicious froth in the pit of her stomach.
She swallowed hard and nodded, unable to break his fiery gaze. "New York." Her voice sounded painfully flat compared to his. She cleared her throat.
He raised his hand to brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek. "I like New York."
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
