This is a scene where my mc decides to attack her friend on personal grounds of abandonment..please tell me how you think it flows..or if it bites the big one??
try to excuse grammical errors...
She wanted him to come in, ached for his soft expression to put her at ease as it always had. She felt a pang of excitement when she thought of her renewed sense of touch and Morgan being so close. She could finally feel his firm embrace and the warmth that came with it, her mouth began to water with just the vision of it happening. The remembrance she had of Morgan mostly came from a faint distant scent. But now, it would be like breathing in home. The smell of the rain mixed with cigarette smoke and aftershave. She balked however, recalling his relinquishment of their friendship. The way he left her here with nothing but her anger to comfort her was unforgivable. The resentment came in waves compelling her muscles to twitch and stiffen. She remembered now the threat she gave the morning he left her. Slowly, she picked up the iron candelabra, feeling the cold weight of it in her hand. The door swung open.
Morgan was no where to be seen only. As the door rapidly swished back and forth she peered through it looking for any sign of him. ‘Did he push it and run?’ she wondered. Laine stepped close towards the door, the candelabra held tight in her hand. Slowly she put a hand out to steady the door from its repeating swinging, surveying the kitchen she found nothing, not even a shadow. A tap on her shoulder jerked her out of thought and she swung around thrashing the wrought iron weapon through the air like an axe. Morgan dodged every blow as if he could anticipate where it would land, and he was laughing. Laine screamed at him loud and shrill continuing to thrash through the air with the candelabra. He swiftly put up a hand catching it in mid-swing then twisting it with ease out of her grasp, throwing it to the ground. Laine refused to let her threat be empty, this was war. In a swift liquid movement she jerked her wrist out of his calloused hand and leaped towards him knocking them both to the ground.
try to excuse grammical errors...
She wanted him to come in, ached for his soft expression to put her at ease as it always had. She felt a pang of excitement when she thought of her renewed sense of touch and Morgan being so close. She could finally feel his firm embrace and the warmth that came with it, her mouth began to water with just the vision of it happening. The remembrance she had of Morgan mostly came from a faint distant scent. But now, it would be like breathing in home. The smell of the rain mixed with cigarette smoke and aftershave. She balked however, recalling his relinquishment of their friendship. The way he left her here with nothing but her anger to comfort her was unforgivable. The resentment came in waves compelling her muscles to twitch and stiffen. She remembered now the threat she gave the morning he left her. Slowly, she picked up the iron candelabra, feeling the cold weight of it in her hand. The door swung open.
Morgan was no where to be seen only. As the door rapidly swished back and forth she peered through it looking for any sign of him. ‘Did he push it and run?’ she wondered. Laine stepped close towards the door, the candelabra held tight in her hand. Slowly she put a hand out to steady the door from its repeating swinging, surveying the kitchen she found nothing, not even a shadow. A tap on her shoulder jerked her out of thought and she swung around thrashing the wrought iron weapon through the air like an axe. Morgan dodged every blow as if he could anticipate where it would land, and he was laughing. Laine screamed at him loud and shrill continuing to thrash through the air with the candelabra. He swiftly put up a hand catching it in mid-swing then twisting it with ease out of her grasp, throwing it to the ground. Laine refused to let her threat be empty, this was war. In a swift liquid movement she jerked her wrist out of his calloused hand and leaped towards him knocking them both to the ground.