|Just Like Heaven
Author: Axie PM
(YuriBoris) This story is not about heroes. Nor is it about glory or honour or domination. Just war. Just power. And their sad eyes.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Romance - Words: 552 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Published: 11-10-04 - id: 2128722
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Just Like Heaven
I must confess how embarrassed I am. Although I like this piece, it wasn't at all what I had in mind when writing it. As a matter of fact, it was quite different. But emotions written down always fade and swirl and change. Meg, Meg, Meg, don't kill me. I shall write something better soon. But still, this is for you.
"I love you."
Wide grey eyes, unable to analyse the message at hand, narrowing into aquamarine. Pause. Blue through silver shone brighter than any emotion and both of them were plunged into a vortex of confusion. Frozen in time. Feeling helpless. So lost. So... lost...
Dark loomed over light and struck. In unsupressed ager, blue and black and violet leaving traces of power, of ownership, of non-understanding, of refusal to understand, of refusal to accept. Soothed by lips and searching fingers and saliva, in a mute apology. Every single touch burned undeniably. To this nature so unnatural. Sewed lips could mutter no further but sky orbs diverted to the side, gleaming stronger than before. Arms came to gather the boy in his arms, pressing red and blue and white against a hard chest, in which a caged bird screeched violently. He could only hear their breathing together. And the pauses between their heartbeats. Between each beat there was a silence, between each vibration there was a death. A tear scarred his face. Another. His fingers pressed further into the back of the boy in his arms, in hopes of suppressing the trembling. His face was dirtied with salt and water and darkness, but he knew the other wouldn't see, curled in a mass of scarlet against his body.
They were losing their minds. Every day, another piece of their sanity was shattered. They, so pathetic as they stood there in an empty embrace, devoid of all meaning. Just another soft weight. They, trying so hard to pretend that they could feel... why, they were even fooling themselves. Somnambuls chocking on their delusions. They were feeling. They could feel. Were paper dolls allowed to feel? Cracks appeared under them and suddenly, autumn breathed over the green of the grass and blue of the sky, draining them into their true greyish yellow. Everything fell apart...
It was a lie.
Dead hearts cannot love.