Lost and Found
Harmonie Des Anges
The dim light cast from the flickering candles in the sconces on the wall cast eerie shadows around the lavish room. The weak light spilled over a small clump of silk and gauze which was varying shades of blue, mingling in a swirl of color on the rich carpeted floor. The soft orange glow of the tiny flames made Quatre's alabaster skin gleam as sweat beaded along his skin to pool and run down. The soft, sweat-dampened hair shone gold in the low light and the heavy gasping breaths that left the pale pink lips shook the thin frame. His body rocked rhythmically in response to the person behind him. As the pace accelerated a particularly violent thrust forced Quatre to his elbows. Face contorting in a grimace of pain, Quatre clutched the silk sheets in a white-knuckle grip, determinedly not uttering a sound.
The shuddering, strangled cry of the man behind him was all the warning Quatre received. Quatre gasped and his eyes watered as cruel fingers dug into his hips, the nails biting into his flesh. Quatre's body sagged as the man behind him collapsed with a sigh. The petite boy's legs and arms shook as he attempted to support the weight. With a pained groan his exhaustion took it's toll and the blonde fell onto the bed. With a soft sigh the nameless man rolled off of Quatre and onto his side, facing away from the blonde, who he'd used to extract his pleasure.
This dismissive behavior went unnoticed by the petite blonde. He didn't care, in fact he was happy the man did not want contact beyond the sexual encounter. Slowly he curled on his side his back to that of his bed partner for the night. He waited patiently, only stirring once he was sure the other was asleep. Moving with muscles sore from a familiar pain, Quatre slid out of the large bed. Grabbing a short light blue silk robe, Quatre hung it loosely over his nude form and slowly limped to a large window with a small bench built into its sill.
Quatre winced as he eased his tired body onto the cushioned seat. This one had been rougher than usual. The pale face turned to gaze out the thin glass, the soft moonlight falling in patches on his young face. The ivory skin and flaxen locks, turned almost silver in the moon's gentle gaze, glowed with an ethereal aura. He looked angelic and unworldly. This appearance was further heightened as the night's first tears trickled from the corners of the ocean colored eyes. The sparkling tangible sorrow glinted with the moon's cool rays, falling silently down the pale visage.