Another random one-shot about my favourite couple. I wrote it very quickly for my standards, and I spent way too much time searching for a cover...Anyway, I just can't stop picking up ideas for B and J from nearly everything, and so here we are. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, they're so important for me. Let me know if I'm building an interesting world. See ya soon.
P.S.: I'm still looking for a beta, so I beg pardon for any grammar error. My fault.
Lips Over Veritable Eyes
Words die, like everything.
Men think they're the only immortal thing they conquered, but it isn't true. Voices blur, rot through the knits of time like the ones who pronounce them; the words impressed on paper can burn, and books can get lost, and pages can be forgotten. Mankind gets used to every revelation, and in the end doesn't remember neither the poet's promises nor its son's prayers. Otherwise, how can they still talk in that way? How can they still believe in certain things, without laughing?
Even words die, but the others don't know it. So you transformed them in your most faithful weapon, and it's so easy to mold them, to insinuate them in human beings' roots, like seeds, and wait for them to grow up and smash the skin.
Your words are too many, too tangled, like glowing ashes thrown on the bare flesh; nothing but complicated toys, the umpteenth joke that no one will undestand. And it's for this reason that you won't ever, ever pronounce that word.
You and Bruce are devouring each other's lips, lacing your legs, searching for more, forever more. He tightens your thighs through his hands, with the slighty desperate pressure with which he kisses you and chased you for so many years. You two are free, but it's just another mask: this, this is what you can't get rid of, and that keeps you up.
-J, I...-
You dig your fingers in his hair.-No, don't say anything. Don't say anything.-
-Why?-
-Because a nameless thing is harder to kill.-
He tugs at your pants. -But I want the world to know.-
-To please me?-
You feel his voice against your throat. Bats's words are few, quicksilver drops that fall and shake the whole pond.
-No. To challenge it.-
You arch your back, pressing to his chest, near his heart.
Your words die, and for this reason you won't ever pronounce those two syllables. But after all, he's the only thing that life didn't take away from you, the only thing it couldn't rip out from you.
And so let the quicksilver drop fall, and swamp the whole pond.
You smile and drink the breath mingled with yours, the beat deafening your ears.
-Then say it, Batsy.-
-J, I...-
Far away the city cries, filling the dark.
Check the capital letters in the title to find out the word J won't pronunce!