Below: disclaimer and brief explanation: one about the overall piece and one explaining, very briefly, some backstory.
Okay, so:
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, obviously, or else NONE of this would be happening between them haha.
**This is definitely a "vocab story" I wrote for school, for some reason I've been using Joey as a character in my writing since like 5th grade? I'm not sure why haha; point being, when I wrote this, he was supposed to be in it, it was for some random story I was writing: and Kaiba's part was a girl haha, but the reverse worked out pretty well except like two parts; so ignore that!
Again about whole "vocab story" : baha if you notice any really awkward, unnatural sounding words thrown in, just assume they were the words I had to use. (there were a lot of random French words? Lol aka the weirdo "a la mode" stuff)
And yeah, don't ask why their in New York haha, I was just too lazy to change all of it!
PREMISE: Yes, it's rather uninventive lol—but its from the stand point of Kaiba and Joey having had previous relations, romantic relations. This is a one shot of them reuniting unexpectedly, resurfacing old feelings, and forcing them to deal with everything they ran away from. [FROM KAIBA'S P.O.V]
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Requiems of Resolution
"And you'll never have to see, the light that wraps itself around me. And I'll never have to know-the faces there, the places you'll go…"
-'Silhouettes'
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It was an uneasy feeling; a feeling I'd left buried several years in the past, and most importantly, something I could not bring myself, willingly, to revisit. Staring into his eyes, I swallowed my words; twisting and jerking my stomach to spit them back out, regardless of the mess they may make. "You can't relive the past."
The words struck him suddenly, simply, and soundly before they slowly slid down to the floor, loosing all meaning as passers-by kicked them along, unaware of their importance. "Of course you can," he pleaded optimistically, that was always Joey's problem-he had too much faith in the idealistic.
I rolled my eyes, "Okay Gatsby, don't you get shot in the end?"
To be quite honest, I couldn't help but reply to him like he was a child. I couldn't help but to treat him like Gatsby, an overly optimistic fool who's drowned out all perceptions of reality and consequence.
He continued, and with the light bouncing of his ensemble and glistening alluringly in my eyes, I wrinkled my nose and squinted just ever so slightly at his face. The waxy syrup of his voice poured out like a serene waterfall, sliding with ease down the beams of light that scintillated through the pinstripes of his suit. "You know I can't live with out you…"
It's funny how easily a few words can make or break you. I twisted my cufflinks like a corsage of invisible yellow petals around my wrist, a corsage that now waned and draped a brownish-blackish against my arm. Two years ago I may have listened to him, with a swollen heart and a bouffant chest, I would have desperately licked away at the sweet promise that lingered in his words.
"But you can," I said softly, feeling colder, and more distant from him than ever before. I thought perhaps I could be wrong, but the stammer, stutter, and silence of his lips confirmed the emptiness.
All the warmth of his light was dwindling-it was falling defeated to the floor, and becoming lost in the sea of abandoned hopes. Our silhouette stood in a standstill, chilled by the arctic breeze of certain realities that sent a cool, shocking shiver through my veins. We stood unchallenged-the conflicting ambiance juxtaposed itself against us, but the coolness of the frost kept us composed.
Just as our bodies all but imprinted themselves, motionlessly in the moment, a waitress with a tray of chocolate covered bon-bons drew both our eyes to the side. I looked at it and tried not to let my thoughts wander-he had always bought them for me. The sensuality of their nature sent stimulating shivers down my bare back; and without moving, Joey's thoughts caressed every inch of me, leaving impressions in all the old, familiar places. At this point in time, the composure of my mask began to soften once more and the golden blonde strands of his hair were glowing ever so slightly against the pink tint in his face. Conflicted, confused, and all but crying, I begged my own heart to play laissez-faire on this one. I pleaded with it not to meddle in my logic, to simply let my mind make the choices.
I looked up. Joey looked up. I swallowed more words, dissolved more thoughts, and lost more and more control. Joey's own eyes went soft, drooping at the corners, flickering back and forth between hopeful and vacant. He shook his head and his heart burned, I knew he loved me; I knew I loved him, by god I knew we were in love. I just also knew we couldn't ever be together…
Dinner didn't seem to finish; in fact it just seemed to end. The whole thing was so generic, so seemingly to be some regime of ours, the meals were ordered a la carte, the desert eaten a la mode, and coffee sipped from demitasses. Even the restaurants many vignettes offered us little distraction and gave further illusions of familiarity. And yet, the funny thing was-that before I sat down to dinner that dreary, fog-set September night, I hadn't seen or spoken to Joey in over a year. The fact of our fates intertwining was pure chance, and it left us divided. Joey and I stood on separate sides of the same line, he wanted to believe we could rekindle what we'd lost, while I knew the wick was too weak to support the flame. So, with one last wave of light, lost to the endless void around us, I turned away from Joey, towards the cold, finally ready to embrace it.
I walked out the door into the flamboyant, vogue New York Streets where the wind ripped away at my hair and clothes, and the gusts of warm air rushed out the door to embrace me one last time. Standing to the left of Belvedere's Boutique, making a last adjustment to my cravat, I felt the pull of warm hands pivoting me around.
What I remember most about what happens next, is that Joey cried-with his hands around my wrists, and his eyes pouring avidly into mine. His tears smiled and cursed me at the same time, while his grip tightened and loosened involuntarily. His heart cried out for an encore, for one last performance, one last shot to rekindle the green light at the end of the dock as he watched the emerald glow become one with the night.
Yet the vibrancy faded still, and neither Joey's tears, nor his words could save us anymore. Exhausted and defeated, my body staggered slightly; swaying from one unbalanced foot to another till it collapsed against Joey's for support. Even standing against each other-we would always be apart of one another, no matter what, and Joey's arms wrapped longingly and comfortingly around me cemented that.
As the cool front swept secretly beneath the warm, the two began to dance, swirling Joey and I's song rapidly around. We sang a song of our own making, to a tune of our own personalization, and together we created an indefinable genre. There wasn't quite another pair of hearts that beat so rhythmically, and so simultaneously that they reverberated at such earth shattering speeds as ours. Joey and I had a song that was so strong that no one could ever hope to confine it to mere titles and expressions of human affection-the song Joey and I sang went beyond the comprehension of man. So for one last time, as his warm, tender lips fit between the cool, stiffness of my own, and our bodies became lost in the convergence. It was both the simplest union of our souls and the most complex shattering of our skies.
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*Thanks for reading :] Please review! I'd love some feedback; especially because I might start another story, in which I might reuse some elements of this piece. Lol, but I want to know what you guys think—I was going to go in the direction of a more lighthearted story [bahah in comparison to the other story I have up right now]. Anywho, let me know if you liked this, or if anyone is interested in a possible elaboration :D