He hears her moving, her feet delicately dancing around him, always dancing around him. He doesn't open his eyes, only listens to her graceful movements. She's always careful to avoid any accidental touches, or any gentle nudges, anything that open up a rift, cause them to start over. Sometimes he steals a glance, when he knows her back is turned, and he sees her, frozen ion her beauty.
She isn't like the others. Her hair, standing out from all others that he's seen, cascades down her back in a magnificent wave, falling over her slim shoulders. Her dress spills down from her back and sweeps across the floor, pooling ay her nimble feet. Oh, how he yearned to see her face, to memorise every inch of her beautiful features, to have something to hold on to. Instead he watched, and waited for the day she could reveal herself to him.
She could feel his eyes on her as she moved, eyes watching her though closed lids. She was always cautious as she swept around him; never reaching out to grasp at what she knew was there. She couldn't, not unless she wanted to undo all that they had accomplished, to turn back the clock and start over. She always knew when his eyes were actually on her, her body tensing, freezing up. She knew his eyes swept over her, and she desperately wanted to turn and embrace her admirer in her arm, never letting go. Her one, sole wish, was to have her lover in her arms.
But instead they were cursed, cursed to never memorise the feel of the others skin against their own, cursed to never the voice of the other, cursed to love without knowing.
Yes, it was a cursed love.
But it was love none the less.
It wasn't supposed to be this way.
They locked themselves away, spending all of eternity together. It became unbearable, neither having the need nor the will to leave. They both went unnourished, both falling apart, rotting away. They both desperately sought the comfort of the other, neither being able to comply to the others wishes.
So they spent their days in darkness, not moving, not interacting. How he yearned to hear the sound of her graceful movements around him once again, but it would seem that she, like himself, no longer held any hope.
They were slowly crumbling, becoming victims to the time they once held dear.
They were rotting away, deep in their solitary sorrow.
They were dying.
They were both weakening; their rare movements had become slow and sluggish, as if moving through water.
He no longer opened his eyes to gaze upon her beautiful form, knowing that she'd be ashamed of what he'd see. The cracks were becoming wider, breaking them away from each other, breaking their own selves. They ran from their fingertips, upwards, marring their porcelain skin, and trailing downwards, destroying her graceful dancing.
They still longed for the feeling of each other's touch, the caress of fingers on their skin, the hot breath of the other against their neck.
But they still couldn't, despite being so, so close
Still divided, it seemed they would fall, never quite knowing the other.
It was twisted, in a way, how it rained that day. As if the very universe were mocking them. They could feel the rain fall in sheets over their unmoving forms, filling the cracks, and flowing over the crevices that had formed over the ages.
It filled them, consumed them, reflecting the emptiness that they felt.
They both knew that death was close, the starvation tearing away at them. Before they had not the will to be separated, now they didn't have the strength to.
When their hunger increased, so did their longing for each other. It went from a burning desire to a hollow need, a need for someone to fill their emptiness.
They knew they were going to die, and they were no longer concerned about lost time, as it was time that they would soon no longer be able to experience.
And so they finally fell into each other's arms.
They felt time moving around them, time that would never be able to be replaced. It was slowly unravelling, but they did not care, as they grasped onto the other and refused to let go.
She could no longer dance as she once had, but now they were together, after years of dodging around him. She was finally in his embrace.
It was then they both opened their eyes. He looked at her disfigured, rotted face, taking in all of the cracks, his eyes locked in hers.
You're beautiful.
They were crumbling, slowly falling to pieces.
But they were falling together.
A/N: Well, I wrote and finished this in one go, which is quite unusual for me…so I figured I may as well post it (and actually finish a one-shot every once in a while…*coughs*) This is basically a midnight ramble about two weeping angels, doomed to love each other…which really isn't my thing either. I don't do romance, and I barely re-read this, only enough to roughly edit…as I don't like this kind of stuff. I don't even know where this came from…I'm not sure if it's actually any good, but as I'm kinda beyond caring, what the hell!
Well, I'm impressed if you got through all that, and thanks for reading, I guess :-D