"You desired my attention but denied my affections."
- 'White Blank Page' by Mumford and Sons
It was just the two of us, sitting on the curb of my balcony. We sit there in silence, mere inches apart from each other. No words passes between us as the sun kisses the horizon, setting the sky on fire.
We watch the sky, or in my case the heavens. Maybe for a sign, I tell myself. But then again, I'm always looking for a sign whenever I'm around him.
This close to him, I can smell him. Not his cologne, but his scent. I smell it lingering on his clothes, the clothes he casually tosses around my house sometimes. And it is clinging onto his skin right now.
I imagine with a certain delirium; our scents mingling and maybe our bodies in between the sheets.
I want to touch him. I want to feel him so badly. I want to feel him inside me, to turn his world inside out like the way he has done mine.
I tell myself not to tell him this, not to ruin this moment of peaceful silence that we are having. But as usual, I don't listen to myself.
My fingers move closer to his, and in a moment of sheer recklessness I grasp his hand tight, intertwining our fingers. My other hand grabs his arm, drawing him closer and I pepper his neck with light kisses.
He tilts his head back and for a minute, he doesn't move or say anything. For a minute, I allow myself to believe he is in love with me. But that minute passes quickly. He pushes me gently away from him. I relent easily and back away. He says softly, "You're my best friend, Hawke," and he leaves it at that.
You can kill someone with those words.
No guns.
No knives.
Just those words and the one you love.
He stands up and leaves with a soft thud of the door. A moment later, the kettle starts whistling loudly on top of the stove.
To my ears, it sounded like a breaking heart.
A/N: So... this is something I wrote a very, very long time ago. It is a drabble, yes, because at that time I was trying to challenge myself to write something good in as little words as possible. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I kind of expanded it into a series because it wouldn't leave me alone. Also, as is quite evident, this is *not* based in the Dragon Age world, but it is based on the Dragon Age characters. I've always been more of a character person anyway.
Probably no one remembers this, because back then this was actually written for another fandom, but because of its simplicity, it works for pretty much any fandom. (And if by the most miraculous chance, you do recognize this piece, hello old reader! But please don't reveal who I used to be, thanks.)