[ CW ] Set a timer for ten minutes . Start it and write a scene about two lovers enjoying a meal I 'm silence . When the timer goes off , set it for another ten minutes - but now one of the lovers has murder on their mind .

The candlelight danced and twirled as their laughter assaulted it from either side. James' eyes twinkled charmingly, a virtue that Charles had never been close enough to notice, but in this rather intimate setting Charles could indulge in every beautiful detail. `` I hope you're not going to propose to me,'' James continued with the homosexual jokes. A joke, but the broad smile that went along with it seemed sincere. Charles heart rose into his throat and he had to swallow heavily to be able to talk. He could n't believe that this was the moment, it was finally going to be out there. `` I love you...'' 
 
 James half choked on a meatball. After chewing it hurriedly he quipped back. `` I love you too, Honeypie.'' Laughter, only James. `` And if I drink any more wine I'm sure someone will get lucky tonight,'' James winked cheekily and swigged from his glass but his wink was a lie! 
 `` I'm serious,'' Charles voice broke up and he reached out under the table to clasp James' knee. 
 James giggled nervously, wriggling his legs out of Charles' reach. The moment passed. 
 
 James resumed to eat his meal obliviously, Charles only pretended to. The topic moved on to a discussion of the hypothetical mating of a chicken and lizard. A silly conversation, James could never serious. When Charles tried to laugh the best he could manage was a grimace. James finally noticed that something was wrong, his eyes locked with Charles', they showed some sort of emotion... confusion, no, fear, not yet... It did n't matter, it was n't love. James asked if he was alright. 
 
 Charles remembered his own emotions, fierce and all encompassing; heartbreak, sorrow, shame, betrayal, hatred... Then everything went red. Red like the pasta sauce staining James' shirt. 
 
 
 Red like the wine soaking into the carpet. 
 
 Red like James' blood dripping from the jagged edge of the broken wine bottle. 
 
 Red like the ominous glow cast by the candle. 
 
 Red and blue flashing lights. 
 
 And the kind blue eyes of the muscular fireman that had swaddled him in this comforting blanket. 
 
 
 Charles had wondered if it was too forward to ask the fireman if he could stay with him for the night. Although the red glow of the flames devouring his house were kind if romantic and the kind blue eyes had said yes. Charles suddenly began to laugh hysterically. 
 `` Yes, James!'' Charles cackled into the night. `` Someone might be getting lucky tonight!'' 

