Disclaimer: I own the world (obviously)
So, another happy oneshot. Hope you enjoy! (Be warned for some...fluff -at least, I think that's what it is)
The rain pelts on the window, a soft symphony of pinging notes that remind her of white feathers, caressing her cheeks gently. The world outside is wet, bearing a light drizzle that creates water sculptures on the window. But her attention is elsewhere. As she stares at him now in the dark, lying motionless and silent except for the small exhales of sleep, it becomes aware to her that he is more open to her now than he has ever been. His back is to the mattress and she can see him clearly.
She recalls at time, many years before, when she'd also watch him sleep, except then his back was facing her. And he had been so far away. In reality the confinements of their tent hadn't let them get more than seven feet away from each other. But he seemed to move as far away as possible from her and the others. When he had been only a few paces away it felt like hundreds.
She can't sleep. She watches him, his shoulders blades creating shadows on his back. His rib cage sways up and down, contracting in and out as he breathed. She wonders what his face looked like. Does he look peaceful? She hopes he does, where during the honey dew of slumber, his inner turmoil and personal rebukes can not plague him. As she watches him, she feels the longing: to be near him and hold him close. She wants to share his pain, to understand. He shouldn't go through it all by himself. She wishes she can help, protect him. It hurts when she thinks of what he's choosing to go through, when she's right here and more than ready to take away the distress.
…She also knows that almost as much as she wants to protect him, she wants him close, for very personal reasons. She needs to touch him, feel him, taste him soon because she's dying just watching him being dangled just outside of her reach. She is tired at staring at what she can't have, the seemingly unreachable, that, still, draws her in and makes her want to try for what is unattainable anyway. Staring at the form of his back in her sleepy haze, she thinks he's probably warm. And she's feeling quite cold right now. It's time, she thinks, that the impossible becomes possible.
After making her decision, she slips quietly out of her blankets and pads over to him, sitting by his side with a forcefully quiet plop. From here she can see him better; the curve of a jaw, the side of a straight nose and a slightly pronounced brow line. With a frown, she leans over him over his shoulder. His head is resting on the underside of his elbow, and from this angle she can see better the features of his face. His lips are slightly parted, his skin like marble in the low light and slim eyebrows are barely furrowed. She thinks he's the most beautiful boy she's seen.
Her examination barely lasts a second as his eyes flash open. His eyes are smoky, under heavy-hooded eyes just awoken. She is drawn in by their color, and staring at his eyes that actually almost look a gray-ish purple from this angle. But then she realizes that she's staring at him. And he's caught her. Quickly moving away from her position hovering over his shoulder, the feeling of dread starts to coil in her stomach as he turns on his back and props himself up on his hands, his blanket sliding down to his waist. He just stares at her at first (she ignores the fact that she's noticed how the way he's leaning gives her a nice view of a tapering torso and a hinted firm chest). His eyes have turned back to their usually steely black as he's awoken and silently observe her with no remark. In the low light his normally dark-blue hued hair looks a pitch black, framing his face with dark strands. She is more than aware that he probably wants an explanation just about now.
She hasn't moved since he woke, and her suspicions are confirmed as he sighs, and quietly asks her what she's doing. Freezing up, she doesn't have an answer and he waits for a moment until he realizes she's not going to reply. Deciding to let it go, he turns on his side away from her once more and tells her to go to sleep. Relieved but still mortified, she sits awkwardly, and slowly returns to her blankets. After settled back in bed, she tries to forget her embarrassment and distracts herself by remembering his sleeping face. She frowns, remembering his emotionless, but slightly angry expression during his sleep. He doesn't sleep peacefully, she realized. And then she became worried, because those dark spots under his eyes she's seen recently weren't from his disturbed sleep, were they? As she turns towards him again, she sighs at his defensive back, wishing he'd trust her. She's positive now that he needs her, or someone's, help.
That was then. Now, as she stares at him once more, he is on his back, facing upwards and vulnerable. His expression is almost happy and it looks good on his face. She marvels at his unguarded body language, his chest slightly lifting from intakes of air. He is more trusting of her, now, and the thought brings a smile to her face. She feels privileged, in a sense, that she is one of the only people alive that can claim such a thing.
Touching his cheek lightly, she watches as his eyes slowly open. He's a slow waker if he leaves himself unguarded, she now knows. As his dark eyes fully open he looks at her, causing her smile to naturally grow. She grins and leans on a spot between his shoulder and chest. When he smiles softly back she smiles wider and kisses his shoulder. Happy and enjoying his warmth, she thinks of soft white feathers as they listen to the soft pitter patter of the rain.
So, after reading my own work over, I do feel quite silly. Ah, well, it is fiction after all, and no matter how unrealistic this may be, I hope you enjoyed it!
I think I saw someone once say "Reviews are a girl's best friend." I think I like that. :D