August 14, 2000
we do not own these puppets
views expressed are not necessarily those of the authors
we do not own this song: fiona apple should, but we doubt that she
does, some large corporation probably has that honor
'pale september' is a short series of 2x3 vignettes for draco ^_^
so...uh...surprise!
~pale september~
and all my armour falling down, in a pile at my feet
and my winter giving way to warm, as i'm singing him to sleep
~pale september~
We sit by the crackling fire, swathed in a thick wool blanket like freezing babes, just enjoying silent company. His body lies next to mine, a smooth, tan reminder of all that separates us. That body is slowly fading.
His breath crystallizes in the air. "Wish the furnace would stop working more often," he jokes, but I know he's cold and dancing flames are doing nothing for the ice eating away inside him.
"I love you," he says suddenly. And it's a pinprick in the fragile shield of control I've put up around me. Duo's fingers, slightly stiff, trace the worn path from the corners of my eyes to my jaw.
"Wish you wouldn't cry," whispers he, his eyes swollen and the circles below darkening. "Wish you wouldn't..."
How strange, that the sick man guides the healthy. Since there's nothing else I can do for him, I bite my tongue and taste hot, coppery blood running slickly along my teeth.
"Better," he says, those wild, almost animalistic eyes slanting, and he kisses me so softly, lighter than the flap of a moth's wing. "But now you taste like blood."
But he does it again, as if getting drunk from the rich liquid, richer than the wine we drank earlier. Then we take off our clothes, fingers fumbling with buttons, humming under our breaths, and make love for a few hours.
And after, he asks me to sing. I don't know where he's heard me; the sound of my voice grates on my own ears. I beg off, and he pretends like he's not disappointed and falls asleep in my arms. There's a lot of false fronts pushing up around us, and I'm not sure how to approach taking them down.
I lie awake and try to count the stars through the ceiling window.
Wish you wouldn't.
Wish you wouldn't.
End Chapter Two: Winter
Ariana and Bianca
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