A/N: I wrote this about two weeks ago, it was a very cloudy and dark morning...and today my hands feel like typing. Please R&R. It really means something. Flame, praise, I'll take it. Thanks!
DISCLAIMER: Nothing is mine.
The rumbling thunder once again claimed the dark morning sky. The cold wind teased the withering trees. Yet, still, the birds sang, the baker baked, and the children attended their studies.
A soft arm rested across his bare chest, it was clothed in not but a delicate silk. He noted how the material felt against his skin. He turned his head to sleeping eyes. He barely knew the girl. She must've been about 20 summers, at the least. She had approached him the previous night, while he was escaping the world, in an old bar, down in the 4th level of Minas Tirith.
If there was one night Faramir couldn't stand to be alone, it was last night. Loneliness was mocking him, now more than ever. He couldn't hesitate...he didn't dare. Barely even looking into her eyes, he had led her back to his chambers. She had provided him with a sweet release from all the troubles in the world. This allowed him to want more. To be selfish, and crave that release again and again, and again, and like an obeying little child, she had satisfied that hunger, just before accepting her own. She hade him happier than he ever was in years...and yet he barely even knew her.
He brushed the black strains of hair away from her fair face, and her eyes slowly opened. A morning smile greeted him.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to wake you," he whispered. She said nothing, but moved her body closer to his. Their hands entwined, resting on his chest. She kept her eyes open, watching the movements of their fingers. The ominous sound of thunder once again threatened the sky, interrupting their thoughts. Soft drizzles of rain landed on the window sill.
"So who are you?" she asked softly, obviously noting that this was some high-standard room. The bigger beds. The marble doors. He did not answer, but turned his head to her and gave her a look. A look as of to say "My, how curious you are". She shyly held her head down, and pulled him a little more closer.
"You are one of the Steward's sons, am I right?"
He wondered that if she really knew what "The Steward's Son" was, would she have said it so lightly?
"Yes," he simply replied.
"I thought so..." She close her eyes again, her head resting still on his chest.
It was the reason why she was in his bed, because he was the Steward's son. Because of the pressure, and constant strain it always had on him. He had wanted it to go away, if only for one night. It did not bother him last night, but now he was disgusted with himself. He pitied himself. It wasn't the act he had done, but why he had done it. As stupid and foolish the answer sounds, it was because he wanted to feel loved. To imprint a memory into someone else's mind, so he would be thought of and not forgotten. To own, and control a power so much different that the one I the blade of his sword...and to forget. Forget the one man whose words and approval he had been chasing since childhood. Forget the perfect brother, and the longing to be like him. Forget it all, just for one single night.
The feelings did leave, and alas, it was only for last night. Even with this angel in his arms, did he still feel lost. What did he want? What more could be want? He stood up from the bed, and walked over to the basin of water. The woman pulled the sheets closer, and silently watched him.
He splashed the cold water unto his face, attempting to wake himself. He then patted his face dry, and clothed himself.
The sun was still hiding under the grey clouds, and the drizzles gradually became rain.
"You have somewhere to be?" she asked, propping her elbow up on the pillow. She had been watching every movement of his, curious of his life.
"Yes," he muttered, slowly buttoning up his tunic. She sat up, as the sheets slid down to reveal her silk-clad shoulders, and the skin beneath it.
"Do I have to leave?"
He looked back at her, she smiled at him, with lazy eyes and tousled hair framing her face...Had it been any other day, he would've asked her to go...but now if he had asked her to leave, who would be waiting for him when he returns? To make him feel wanted again.
Nobody.
He made his way toward her. He held her face in his hands, and kissed her lightly on the lips.
"No."
She nodded, and smiled, returning the kiss with delight. He then drew away from the room, closing the door behind him.
He didn't dare let her go.
A/N: This wasn't a romance. I hope I got the message through clearly. Review, please! Thanks a lot!