A/N:Written for 500themes LiveJournal writing challenge community using the prompt #373 – Missing Heaven and roses.
Disclaimer: Okamura Tensai and all associated companies are the rightful owners of Darker than BLACK. No copyright infringement intended and no money is being made out of this.
Warnings: none I can think of.
For a moment we were
They haven't had it with fireworks going off and stolen breaths when moments seem to stop and stretch forever before the world careens back into its usual gait so fast, too fast; and they know nothing about being the one and only. They don't have it all backwards either, though. They just have… something. Standing side by side on a battlefield where everything is red, red blood and white-hot pain; an odd kind of camaraderie because they're not entirely human, not anymore; sharing a moment of companionable silence at the oddest of moments, which envelops them like a safety blanket and makes the world recede – that's what they have. Love for a contractor is only a word – four letters strung together without a meaning, without emotional connections and reactions; four letters of an empty sound.
Hei moves through the ranks of the enemy, dealing out strikes left and right, cleaving a path for himself; Contractor, but not really. Carmine is out of his sight, but where she has gone shows a path of dead bodies. She is a Contractor, fully. They only have the fight and flowing blood to keep them together. There is no emotion involved and this being together which Hei tries to teach her at the beginning falls on deaf ears and is met with an answer which he hates to hear. Contractors have no emotion. Contractors have no allegiances or obligations to keep secrets. Hei knows this and one day he will give up – maybe – but that day isn't today and therefore he can keep trying. Carmine humours him and tries to pretend, but emotion is something which she cannot imitate, something which she doesn't know how to show or fake.
Hei remains human amid contractors and tries to become just like them, but cannot help his own occasional slips. The need to feel another human being by his side, for example. Carmine doesn't object; she doesn't care, and she's there only for a little while, like a flash of a lightning across a night sky. She's there before Amber comes and turns everything upside down.
They lie together on the ground, watching the stars and breathing, as though they are the only people in this world, ad Hei feels content. They have no fireworks going off, no moments when it seems as if the other has stolen your breath away, they aren't each others one and only, and they have nothing backwards in this strange relationship. In fact, it's not even a relationship. It's just two people in the dark, lying together on cold hard ground and breathing together in velvety darkness under a starry sky.