Disclaimer: All I own from this story is the blue ribbon holding
Combeferre's hair back. Please don't sue.
A/N: As is the case with all of my stories, I don't particularly like this story. However, I accidentally mentioned it to my beta, and when she weaseled it out of me she liked it and made me post it. So, if you don't like it...*points to La Pamplemousse* it's all her fault!
~
Receding Oblivion
He looks up from his books at the boy seated beside him. His lovely blue eyes reflect the light from the low-burning candles particularly nicely, and the flickering flames make the shadows dance on his face. His golden hair looks darker in the dim light. His companion doesn't notice, wholly absorbed in his studies. His glasses reflect the flames, making it look as though he has no eyes, a rather frightening effect on this otherwise-caring face. A loose strand of brown hair slips out of the blue ribbon holding it back.
I observe these two unseen, hiding in the shadows. It's almost surprising they don't notice me, as I'm sure I must reek of absinthe. How it pains me to see the one I love, loving another. Sure, I have nothing against Étienne, but...why can it not be I? No, Julien would never love me, nor cast no more than a disdainful glance in my direction.
How it pains me. How I drown my sorrows.
I once tried to bleed them out, wound for wound.
I glance at the scars, now no more than pale bumps of scar tissue on the skin. They never hurt, not like the wounds I received, each cut going deeper into my heart every time their lips met.
I recede into the shadows and silently (surprisingly) make my way into the cold embrace of winter night.
~ Reviews appreciated, constructive criticism more than other.
A/N: As is the case with all of my stories, I don't particularly like this story. However, I accidentally mentioned it to my beta, and when she weaseled it out of me she liked it and made me post it. So, if you don't like it...*points to La Pamplemousse* it's all her fault!
~
Receding Oblivion
He looks up from his books at the boy seated beside him. His lovely blue eyes reflect the light from the low-burning candles particularly nicely, and the flickering flames make the shadows dance on his face. His golden hair looks darker in the dim light. His companion doesn't notice, wholly absorbed in his studies. His glasses reflect the flames, making it look as though he has no eyes, a rather frightening effect on this otherwise-caring face. A loose strand of brown hair slips out of the blue ribbon holding it back.
I observe these two unseen, hiding in the shadows. It's almost surprising they don't notice me, as I'm sure I must reek of absinthe. How it pains me to see the one I love, loving another. Sure, I have nothing against Étienne, but...why can it not be I? No, Julien would never love me, nor cast no more than a disdainful glance in my direction.
How it pains me. How I drown my sorrows.
I once tried to bleed them out, wound for wound.
I glance at the scars, now no more than pale bumps of scar tissue on the skin. They never hurt, not like the wounds I received, each cut going deeper into my heart every time their lips met.
I recede into the shadows and silently (surprisingly) make my way into the cold embrace of winter night.
~ Reviews appreciated, constructive criticism more than other.