Beyond the roofs of Florence all colors of the sunset floated. It was like a veil covered the petals of the violet trees in the darkness, gave them more power to cover the silhouette of the city.
It seemed that the city wanted to exhale, the darkness hid the tension in the air.
A blonde man was sitting in a small room on the second floor and wrote hastily things on a piece of paper. Screaming words, staying with their sounds unheard in the room. Against the song of the Judas trees they sounded like incomprehensible whispers.
And the Judas trees whispered: "Give yourself to us and you are dead."
They having sex – that was just a minor matter that got treated as a main thing. He should make sure they were close to each other and he had trust in him. What was easier in such a case than sex? But at the same time as difficult. Either it worked as a whole thing or it failed as a whole.
There was only one thing: a heartbeat. It was not arousal, fire or passion. They were not necessarily inexistent, but if they were there they didn't get recognized. The feelings around the whole thing were just a decoration, the actual happening was an empty shell. It could have some meaning to it, if someone gave one to it.
There was only a speeding heartbeat, stumbling, flying, skipping…
There were no numbers, no names – he didn't moan "Ludwig", not "Germany" or something similar. It was shapeless and depressingly neutral, if you didn't really think about it. About the squeaking bed, the loud husky breathing, the hot hands roaming over his body, the piercing blue eyes – they would have taken everything with them.
Everything was "it" – not "that".
The regret arose only on the next morning. There was the soft breathing of someone sleeping caressing the sheets. And there were some petals on the wooden floor in front of the window.
Feliciano's hand fisted in the sheets. He wiped the tears away. Once he wanted to get up a hand grabbed his wrist and a pair of icy blue eyes fixated him.
"I'll make breakfast."
The blue eyes lowered and the hand loosened around his wrist.
"A small part of him understands already, how long will it take for the rest of him?", thought the small body sneaking into the kitchen.
This was actually a story PAGES long and EXTREMELY metaphoric. And ridiculously hard to translate from German into this. Even if it doesn't look like it. I'll link the german fanfiction. I'm kind of disappointed now :D, but I made some effort, so I'm gonna post it and see what you readers think. :*
