Author's Notes: Inspired by a line in a fic that I read five seconds before opening WordPad, Redemption by KyoxSakiFan-- something about Break just waltzing out of their lives. Of course, listening to Josh Groban's 'Let Me Fall' also helped. T.T Oh, Break. Redemption, my foot. On a not-entirely related note, the events of chapter 40 have tickled my BreakGil senses. Josh Groban, do your worst! XD
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Tuneless Dances
The invitation was simple and, unlike the man's true nature, quite direct to the point.
"Spy on the rats of the Nightray House, as my precious left eye."
As in most cases, he'd never meant to follow his orders. But the rain, the night, the Abyss that held so stubbornly beyond his grasp the person he needed the most in the world (and, perhaps, the man's wine-red gaze, fixated upon him and nothing else)-- they bore down on him, crumbling his will, which, admittedly, wasn't as together as he'd originally thought, and he'd agreed.
Leading him by the hand, teaching him to use anything and anyone, and being told to use me, just as I am only going to use you-- it felt as if Xerxes Break had pulled him into a dance, a strange and surreal waltz. There was no music, only Break's words, and Gilbert soon found himself moving along with the man, fumbling to keep up with him.
At the very least, Break seemed to know that his hands were far too big, and his steps were too difficult to follow, so he held his wrists instead of his hands, pulling him and leading him, until Gilbert found his footing. They never manage to match each other perfectly, even when Gilbert clings to Break's hands, and even when Break deliberately slows down his pace, but they know the time and the turns, so perhaps that slight mis-step was forgivable.
Ten years later, the dance has ceased to be predictable. They still don't move in perfect sync with each other, but Gilbert thinks that he preferred it this way. Neither wanted to risk their footing if the other should ever fall, so they grip tight and hold each other as close as they can get, and all the while their eyes never meet.
When Break opens his eyes and sees a vague, pale blob instead of his hand, he knows that the dance is coming to an end.
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fin
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Author's Notes, cont.: I need more practice writing these two... And my stuff's getting a bit shorter. What, growth spurts + mental capacities + reversal of roles equal equally problematic drabbles? XD