1 original: Fragments I
Aug. 24th, 2008 01:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amorphousTitle: Fragments I
Rating: G
Author's Notes: I have a challenge for myself: write "fragments" (500+ words) every day for the next month. It's to help my writing and help boarding my scope of writing. They will not be fanfic or fandom related. Most of the time, if not all, they will not have names to the characters. This is a self-imposed, and self-invented, writing workshop type thing. The "fragments" will not be inter-related either.
The words echoed on the walls loudly, repeating her every syllable back. Closing her eyes tightly, she wished they would go away. But the confessions, the apologies, what she needed to say kept pouring from her mouth.
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! her head screamed at her, but it seemed disconnected down.
Her eyes flew open at the sound of footsteps. They were soft and slow, like the person didn't want to be heard approaching.
"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice raw from crying. She was couldn't speak louder, and the echoes kept attacking her, seeping her reminding strengthen with their reckless repeating.
"It's me," came the low voice. He could hear the echoes, too, she knew immediately. They weren't her imagination. "Are you okay?"
She wanted to ask if she looked okay, but didn't dare. He was being kind; there was no reason to lash out at the man. No reason at all… but that those were his words assaulting her. Those were his denials that kept hitting her until she had no strength yet. This was his fault after all. Instead, she shook her head.
He knelt beside her, leaning down to try to catch her eye. She forced her eyes closed once again, ignoring his efforts purposely. "What…" But he stopped, noticing finally. She had been sitting there, crouched on the floor like a lost and broken doll since he had walked away from her. He knew what was going on. She couldn't bear to look at him. What if he looked repulsed, disgusted at her weakness.
Effortlessly, he put his arm around her, pulling her crumbled body against his. "It's okay," he tried to soothe her.
"It's not okay," she argued, finding her voice finally. His touch… It was so familiar, so soft and gentle. Like he actually had feelings for her. That was laughable. He had left her, tears in her eyes, and a no doubt broken look in her eyes. He didn't care.
But his touch said different. His warmth, like always, enveloped her, and before she could help herself, she leaned into him. She craved him. Her body ached to be near him constantly, like he was part of her. He gave her strength and security; it was all in a simple embrace. Something that was meaningless to him.
"It's okay," he whispered again. He wasn't arguing. He was comforting her. Him of all people. His words still echoed, making her feel like it was a relentless attack, and his touch and smell – oh, that beautiful smell that was purely his alone – assaulted her senses, taking her to someplace safe. "You're okay."
She shook her head. "You left."
"I'm back."
"But you left."
"I couldn't stay away." Something in his voice had taken a turn toward vulnerability. It was too irresistible now. She opened her eyes, letting him sweep to his. She couldn't look away now. She couldn't deny what that ice blue gaze held. Love, compassion… Apologies.
"I love you," he whispered abruptly.
"You left," she insisted softly. She didn't believe her own words now. The echoes had been silenced by those ice eyes and those three words.
"I love you," he repeated in a strong voice.
"You—"
"I know. I know. I left."
"Why?"
"I had to. I had to try… I couldn't stand it. Knowing that you wouldn't pick up if I called, wouldn't be there to hug me, to touch me… to love me, too."
Why did this man – this beautiful man – seem so soft at this moment? she wondered. He had never said he loved her before. It was always her, to the very last moment, confessing her love, trying to get him to return the affection. Why is he acting strangely?
And then she knew.
She leaned forward, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. Breaking away, she whispered, her breath still mingling with his, "I love you, too."
"I know," he whispered, his forehead dropping to lean against hers. "I'm sorry."
"Don't," she commanded in a whisper, bringing her finger up to place on his lips. "There's no need. I know now."
She kissed him softly again, reveling in the feeling and the scents and the emotions the simple act stirred inside her. There was nothing left to say. The kiss grew hot and heavy and she was lost. Lost in him; lost in his world; lost in his love.
And she knew she'd never let him go again.
Rating: G
Author's Notes: I have a challenge for myself: write "fragments" (500+ words) every day for the next month. It's to help my writing and help boarding my scope of writing. They will not be fanfic or fandom related. Most of the time, if not all, they will not have names to the characters. This is a self-imposed, and self-invented, writing workshop type thing. The "fragments" will not be inter-related either.
The words echoed on the walls loudly, repeating her every syllable back. Closing her eyes tightly, she wished they would go away. But the confessions, the apologies, what she needed to say kept pouring from her mouth.
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! her head screamed at her, but it seemed disconnected down.
Her eyes flew open at the sound of footsteps. They were soft and slow, like the person didn't want to be heard approaching.
"Who's there?" she whispered, her voice raw from crying. She was couldn't speak louder, and the echoes kept attacking her, seeping her reminding strengthen with their reckless repeating.
"It's me," came the low voice. He could hear the echoes, too, she knew immediately. They weren't her imagination. "Are you okay?"
She wanted to ask if she looked okay, but didn't dare. He was being kind; there was no reason to lash out at the man. No reason at all… but that those were his words assaulting her. Those were his denials that kept hitting her until she had no strength yet. This was his fault after all. Instead, she shook her head.
He knelt beside her, leaning down to try to catch her eye. She forced her eyes closed once again, ignoring his efforts purposely. "What…" But he stopped, noticing finally. She had been sitting there, crouched on the floor like a lost and broken doll since he had walked away from her. He knew what was going on. She couldn't bear to look at him. What if he looked repulsed, disgusted at her weakness.
Effortlessly, he put his arm around her, pulling her crumbled body against his. "It's okay," he tried to soothe her.
"It's not okay," she argued, finding her voice finally. His touch… It was so familiar, so soft and gentle. Like he actually had feelings for her. That was laughable. He had left her, tears in her eyes, and a no doubt broken look in her eyes. He didn't care.
But his touch said different. His warmth, like always, enveloped her, and before she could help herself, she leaned into him. She craved him. Her body ached to be near him constantly, like he was part of her. He gave her strength and security; it was all in a simple embrace. Something that was meaningless to him.
"It's okay," he whispered again. He wasn't arguing. He was comforting her. Him of all people. His words still echoed, making her feel like it was a relentless attack, and his touch and smell – oh, that beautiful smell that was purely his alone – assaulted her senses, taking her to someplace safe. "You're okay."
She shook her head. "You left."
"I'm back."
"But you left."
"I couldn't stay away." Something in his voice had taken a turn toward vulnerability. It was too irresistible now. She opened her eyes, letting him sweep to his. She couldn't look away now. She couldn't deny what that ice blue gaze held. Love, compassion… Apologies.
"I love you," he whispered abruptly.
"You left," she insisted softly. She didn't believe her own words now. The echoes had been silenced by those ice eyes and those three words.
"I love you," he repeated in a strong voice.
"You—"
"I know. I know. I left."
"Why?"
"I had to. I had to try… I couldn't stand it. Knowing that you wouldn't pick up if I called, wouldn't be there to hug me, to touch me… to love me, too."
Why did this man – this beautiful man – seem so soft at this moment? she wondered. He had never said he loved her before. It was always her, to the very last moment, confessing her love, trying to get him to return the affection. Why is he acting strangely?
And then she knew.
She leaned forward, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. Breaking away, she whispered, her breath still mingling with his, "I love you, too."
"I know," he whispered, his forehead dropping to lean against hers. "I'm sorry."
"Don't," she commanded in a whisper, bringing her finger up to place on his lips. "There's no need. I know now."
She kissed him softly again, reveling in the feeling and the scents and the emotions the simple act stirred inside her. There was nothing left to say. The kiss grew hot and heavy and she was lost. Lost in him; lost in his world; lost in his love.
And she knew she'd never let him go again.
