The silence that counts
Warnings/notes : Crawford x Schuldich, Schuldich pov, slightly weird perhaps, fluff?
Disclaimer : I don't own Weiss Kreuz.
written at 30th March 2003, by Misura
"You are expected in room 1746, sir." the woman at the reception says, smiling as she hands me back my card. She wonders who -or rather what- I am, how much money, how much power I have, things like that. Her face doesn't show a thing but her mind is practically screaming the information at me. I need to get out of here, away from all these thoughts invading my mind.
I need a shield, a way to protect me against them.
"Where?" I ask. I have never been here before ; how am I supposed to know where that room is?
She points at the elevator at the end of a corridor on the left side of the desk. "It's on the ninth floor. Once you get out of the elevator, it's the fourth room on your right."
Is that supposed to make sense? Ah well, I should be glad the first two room-numbers don't indicate the floor this time. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this.
Other alien minds, trying to worm themselves into my own.
I thought I would never feel like this again, that I had triumphed over the curse Estet calls a Gift.
Nodding my thanks I hurry in the indicated direction.
Impolite, rude man. Why can't I meet someone nice at this job? I try so hard to look good and -
The doors slide shut behind me. I'm alone, for now at least.
I feel a tingling sensation in my stomach, letting me know I'm moving up.
On the first floor another man enters. He walks to the other corner, questions at my casual clothing in his eyes.
Not so good.
His mind is surprisingly calm and controlled though. I can handle it, especially now that I've gotten a few moments of rest and know my destination is close.
On the second floor two women join us, as well as another man. They are having an agitated conversation, causing the other man to throw them a look of mild disapproval.
I do my best to ignore them, but their minds are tearing at my control. I feel it slipping away.
Blue doesn't suit her at all, she should wear red.
I want a new desk, I can't work with Keiko staring at me all the time.
Does she really think she stands a chance with that new one?
Should I agree to meet her out of work?
I mean, it's flattering but it gets on my nerves.
I look great today, maybe I'll ask him out myself.
I want to yell at them to shut up.
I want to weep.
I'm losing it big time now, only a hint of control remaining.
A few seconds more of this and I *will* go insane.
Such a stupid way to go ; death by being in an elevator with other people too long.
"Please." I whisper. "Please."
They don't hear me.
We pass the third floor, the fourth.
I hardly notice.
The fifth. They get out.
As does the other, reasonably quiet person.
He throws me a sympathetic look as he walks out, as if he wants to say he understands my suffering. He reminds me of you a little, do you think that's odd?
Maybe it's just the suit. He wore glasses too.
On the sixth floor a young man enters, holding a plastic cup of coffee. You know, the kind you get out of an automat. He smiles at me hesitantly, slowly taking a sip as the elevator starts to move again.
Blarg, I knew I should have taken extra sugar in this.
Or maybe extra milk, I always forget that. Silly me.
I wonder what he's doing here.
He studies me, barely hiding his curiosity.
Next time, I really have to take the time to change into a suit.
Finally, I reach the ninth floor.
I'm practically running to the door that has a small sign with the number 1746 on it.
Just before I reach it, it opens on its own.
Revealing my salvation from madness.
My personal drug, more addictive than anything else.
The first person I ever truly loved and felt for and quite probably the last one too.
You smile and hold out a glass.
White wine, sweet and sparkling.
Kicking the door closed behind me, I step up to you.
My hand touches yours and I feel the sensation overwhelming me.
In my head, at last, a perfect silence has settled.
I don't withdraw my hand, wishing this moment to last forever.
Not wanting to hear the outside world ever again.
You turn, breaking the touch to put the glass on a nearby table.
"It will pass, you know. You couldn't live without the world out there."
I chuckle. "You're right. For the moment though ... "
"For the moment, yes." You agree.
You don't agree with me very often. I wonder what these meetings mean to you.
I move closer to you. "Let's just forget it even exists."
"Yes." you say simply. "Let's do that."
The words we speak have little meaning.
It's the silence that counts for me.