Title: To Dream, To Live.
Pairing: Omega / Copy X, hints of Omega / X.
Genre: Introspection / Romance
Rating: R for mentions of sex, but nothing explicit.
Warnings: Poetic writing, mostly.
Songs used: "The Treasure that Must be Seduced" (OC Remix), "Shattered Egg of Dreams" (Xenogears Soundtrack, disc 1), Song of Saya 1 (Saya no Uta Soundtrack)
Note: This was written for various friends of mine on Plurk, after they enabled me. So much love for you guys! And also, I hate this site's formatting. I hate it so, so much.
He once dreamed in green.
Memories that weren't his own, words that weren't spoken to him (but should have been, imust/i have been spoken to him, ihe was the real one/i), but he still wrapped himself in anyway, clinging to it as his body drifted through the blissful oblivion of sleep.
Hands that weren't his (were, they were his, would always be his) grasped at thin shoulders, lips that weren't his own pressed softly against waiting flesh.
Heat.
Tangible, but naught but an ethereal dream.
Omega had gripped the sequences and held them close, but always felt the frustration of a doomed fantasy when his eyes opened once more.
-00-
He now lived in red.
Red like his eyes, which glittered when he got too close. Not that he would have ever admitted it, of course; his pride never allowed him to say many of these things out loud.
Sweet little Copy, always trying so hard to keep control. Even when it was ripped from him, he would grip it, hold it, preserve that illusion until he forced it to become tangible, made it become real. It was one of the many things Omega found fascinating about him, so similar and yet so drastically different from the voice and eyes he often saw in his dreams.
His voice stammered, clicked. His eyes sometimes faltered, shifting every which way as though he had been installed with outdated optical equipment. His arms occasionally shook, and his leg joints creaked. But his words, his stance...they were filled with such purpose, power, and the obvious threat that he would make good of such claims that fell from his lips.
Delusional, but wise.
Unstable, but unbreakable.
Shattered, but perfect.
He never flinched when Omega approached him. His eyes would stay locked to his, defiant. He took every fleeting touch as a challenge, and yet so obviously clutched and craved for more. He would respond to the nails raking into his back with hard, passionate bites.
He would deny, but also deliciously demand.
He never screamed.
He never, ever gave in.
His precious Copy would watch him with that flawed but beautiful face, accept the affection given him with the grace and strength of a Queen, and allow Omega to drown the Green from his mind and drink in the Red.
Allow him to eternally live in a waking dream.