Oo~ Like a boat out on the ocean, I'm rocking you to sleep . . . ~oO
~Shatter~
She wanted to be his castle, to protect and hold him. To own him. She wanted him to be hers.
She looked at him, all golden hair and softly shut eyes, still hearing his words ring hollowly in her ears. Words of love (irresolute), words of faith (unsure), words of vengeance (untrue). Doubt weaving a spider-silk chain between the thoughts and lies; spider-webs tarnishing the shining surfaces of the thoughts, eroding them away to reveal the pain each lie cost.
His face twitches. He moves, restlessly in the sunlight on the top of this concrete building. She sits, quiet and stares down at him, afraid to move. Afraid to disturb.
He ignores the pain, forgets it. Forges ahead without it. He is brave and strong and hard and cold. If he has a heart, he broke it long ago; broke it so he would never have to accept it again. He is bright and cruel, and she is soft and warm. He is the frost, and she is the flowers; he twines his cold fingers around her, dulling the colours, shining in the ruin of her sweetness.
She looks at those hands. They're curled childishly. She has this urge to stroke the hair off his forehead and to lay her head beside him; to stare without blinking.
She absorbs this pain. This pain that haunts him; she picks it up and dusts it off and nurses it beside her heart along with her own pain. She was never bright or cold. She can't stop herself, any more than she can stop him. She feels this keenly, now, the utter stupidity or those feelings.
She'd do anything. If he knows this, he won't accept it. He'll continue lying, lying there and to himself and in the back of his mind that voice which has kept him alive all of these years will whisper more lies, about the frailty of humans, and the needlessness of love.
And he'll believe it. He has no reason not to.
A/N: I must have written this a good while ago. And I wrote it about something in particular, I realise, but since I'm on a Hamlet/Ophelia buzz, count it for them. ;) Theirs is a similar love. And I love it. Enjoy, my pretties. (Billy Joel for opening quote)
- Wraithlike