Hey guys! Latest chapter of GSUV is taking a while so thought I'd put this up. I'm aware that it's VERY, VERY SHORT! I wrote it for a creative writing assignment and it was supposed to be 250 words. We had an opening image of eyes to start with and this is what happened. Writing with a word limit is interesting - every single word has to count, like it does in poetry. So if you read, read carefully.

I don't know the story behind it. It's just a snapshot of Sarah and Jareth somewhere - in a cafe, maybe? A first meeting. Maybe one day I'll come back and finish it but for now it stands alone :)

It is often said that the eyes are the best way to know someone. But eyes can so easily be hidden – as his are now, hooded beneath his eyelids; he regards her intently but all she can see is a glimmer of blue.

Hands, then. She has learnt that hands say much about a person. Her own, clenched on her lap, are soft and pale: the nails painted pink, though the varnish has chipped; a beaded bracelet round one slim wrist; a small lady's wristwatch on the other. Her hands declare her to be who she is: a girl, still, rather than a woman, who still chews her nails when she's nervous and has never had to do a day of manual labour in her life.

But he is wearing gloves, and she is momentarily stumped. One hand is propped beneath his chin as he continues to watch her, the hint of a sardonic smile at the corners of his mouth; the other lies on the table between them. It's not quite an invitation, but its position almost bridges the distance dividing the two. Almost.

Gloves. Black, made of a supple leather; they are short, cut off at the wrist. Even through the layer of material she can see that his fingers are long, slender, well-shaped. The inside of his wrist is facing her and she studies it for a moment. The skin is so pale as to be translucent; she can see the faint blue veins under the surface. She suddenly remembers hearing, or perhaps she read it in some magazine, that wrists are one of the most erotic places in the body – and then, like an idiot, she is blushing to the tips of her ears.