Nor For Love…
There had never been any doubt. Never any hesitation in what he had decided to do. No wavering even under the pressure of those so strong eyes hoarsely begging him silently. He had known what he had to do and he had done it. What he left behind was no longer his concern.
Dispassionately, he recalled his memories of the past night, that timeless night when they had seemed separate from the physical world. Knowing that he would not be free of them until he viewed them in their entirety, until he had fully realized what had happened, though he knew on some deep level of his soul, why he had to do this.
The glancing looks first, sent his way so often and just as often pulled away when he chanced to look that way. Always brief, never lasting.
Next, the touches, just as short as the looks. Holding just as much meaning, perhaps a bit more, since they strayed past the boundaries he had tried to set around them. The same boundaries that had fallen, broken and decrepit, not two hours later, as the last rays of the day's sun died in crimson glory against the wall.
Then both at the same time, pushing him to respond, demanding to be acknowledged, crashing like a tsunami wave against the defenses that had never been broken, relentless and corrosive. They had ground at him, slowly but surely pulling him out of the cocoon of unfeeling that he had wrapped around himself like a second skin. It had hurt, having those feelings forced upon him, the tattered shreds of his old skin pulling painfully at the ragged edges of his soul.
The fire that had been ignited had burned on his skin, charring him with every touch, every glance, until he knew he would never heal. Never again could he distance himself the same way, always there would be that breach in his defenses, a flicker of candlelight in the eternal night he had tried so hard to lose himself in.
Finally, though, he remembered, he had broken completely. He had surged back against the tide of feeling, though not to fight it, but rather to meld with it, add himself to it in an attempt to once more lose himself, if not in nothingness, then in the chaos of everything at once.
To no avail. Always, always, there was the grounding element, those eyes, burning into his own as he refused the offered hand again and again, only to grab it at the last second, before he could lose himself once more. To be pulled back into that no man's land between the silence and the pandemonium, where pain ruled supreme over all.
He tried everything to ease the pain, inflicting it on pale skin, pushing himself to torture as he had been tortured, to surpass those limits and sink the both of them to the lowest pit of Hell. Nothing would lessen the agony he suffered, nothing until that last release, the last bit of control he had held onto, shattering into oblivion as cries soundlessly echoed in the air.
Then, they came back, his defenses, his boundaries, everything he had lost. Then, he could pull the silence around him again, relishing the comforting chill, deadening the senses and leaving him high above the pain and agony he had suffered.
He had known what he had to do, had known it since that first shove against the walls of his mind. No hesitation, no doubts, he simply did it. Had stood, not looking back. Had ignored the pleading in those eyes, the eyes that had pulled him down to the realm of pain. Had left, in silence and in nothingness.
There had been nothing in it, no lasting feeling, no connection made. Those eyes begged to differ, but he knew, had known, would always know. For all the hurt he had endured, there had been no eternal mark made upon his soul, his dead soul. It had come of nothing and into nothing it had faded.
Even as the memory of pain and fiery agony faded from his consciousness, those eyes burned out of the darkness, staring, accusing him. He ignored them, plowing on, through the darkness he knew intimately. Finally, they seemed to resign themselves to their fate, fading with the other memories into the far recesses of his mind.
Though nothing remained, still he knew it was not the same, could never be the same. He had been broken once and, once broken, was now susceptible to breaking again. Easier the next time, to break something that had already been weakened to that point.
That was why. Why he had left, why he was still walking, why he was remembering it at all. No mark had been left on his soul, but it had altered his future, making his past almost obsolete. So he had run, run away from that influence, from those eyes that had pulled so strongly, strong enough to alter his chosen path.
The path that had been so clear, was now clouded with the unknown. Each step might bring success or failure, continued life or death lurked just out of sight. Still, he had been through that fog before, at that other time, the one he no longer remembered, no longer was aware of. He could do it again, had to do it again, would accept no other option.
And, somewhere past the fog, was another path, clear and straight, that he would follow to his dying day, never wavering, never deviating from it.
The last traces of memory faded, leaving nothing behind but nothingness. A clean slate, pristine and unmarked by anything. Not even the blood that had never spilled, drawn by feather-light touches that had never been felt.
The new-fallen snow of his soul's landscape, never to be touched by the outside again.
A/N: I understand it's ambiguous. I understand it's unclear. It was written that way and was intended for the reader to draw their own conclusions. So, if you saw something in it, then it was there. The only certainty in this is that it was written from a male POV. Who it is, is also open-ended, again on purpose. Who the other is, you get to imagine, since all you know is that they have, apparently, remarkable eyes. Nothing is conclusive and so nothing can be absolutely true. (This is also why there is no disclaimer, as it's not actually based on anything.)
If you would like to know which pairings I was thinking of when I wrote this, PM me or ask in a review and I'll get back to you. However, understand that those pairings are not the cold, hard truth. This can be applied to nearly every pairing you have ever come across, except maybe the lesbian ones and even then, switch out a pronoun and you could include those as well.
I hope you came away with something of meaning from that, as it was rather…difficult to write. The inspiration came from a song from Death Note (Go read it. Now.), but I don't know which one it actually is. The Death Note theme song is kind of similar, so if you could find that and listen to it as you read this, it might give it another dimension. Otherwise, find some old Catholic song, like Kyrie Eleison and listen to that. You'll probably get the same effect.
Ah, well. Hope it was an interesting read at least. Until we meet again.
Haliaetus