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c'mon sea legs (pull yourself together now)
by: pixie paramount (4/22/2008, 8:23 PM)
Kingdom Hearts, Demyx/Olette/Kairi & you fall fast and hard
You fall helplessly, hopelessly, ridiculously in love with this boy and this girl. It feels like your sinking further and further in quicksand, about to be swallowed whole.
Kairi smiles, takes your hand, and curls your hair behind your ear and kisses you in the dark, lonesome nights when the city beats and moans with sirens and the cackle of firecrackers on empty streets.
You finally make it to the right club. He sings up on the stage, his voice carrying over the crowd of pulsating bodies. It feels like he's just singing to the two of you.
There's this scene with all the actors and the liars and the beautiful people, they all have nothing better to do. And you meet jesters and kings, skeletons that speak with cigarettes that hang from their mouths and the smell of coke lingering about them.
And he talks to a little blond thing, when there is nothing left but to pack up and leave. She has her hands all over him—playfully, coyly, coaxingly, you know you want it—and it hurts watching, because a part of you thinks he'll walk away and leave you.
(It's happened to you all before.)
But he doesn't. He sees you over the crowd, pries her hands from him and in low, careful tones he tells her something that makes her flush and stagger away, hurt and angry, and walks to you.
I missed you, he said, takes your hand in his, lulls you away from the jesters and the liars. What did you think?
You where wonderful, you tell him and you mean it, because he always is on stage.
You walk out into the open air. To Kairi and her cigarette, her martini in hand, near the entrance of the club. She's talking to Mr. Bones and his colorful bluebeard, his friendly smile and convincing words.sup1/sup
You'll do well in Paris, you're beautiful.
But she tells him, not on his life. Spills her drink on his pretty bluebeard and heads over to you both, winding her arms around your neck and burying her face in the hollow of your neck.
I want to go home, she says, pecks you on the cheek, if you two want to stay, I'm fine with it, just thought you should know.
And it hurts, sometimes; that her hand is so small as you take it, tightly, in your own.
The three of you walk along the buzzing, kaleidoscope streets, uneasy on your feet, laughing and smiling, lovingly hand-in-hand.
Isn't love grand? You say, warm and alive and beautiful in the cool, breezy summer night.
And you don't need and answer. You don't because just the fact their hands are still in yours, even after so long, and that's enough for you.
It's enough for the three of you.
Prompt: quicksand, Demyx/Kairi/Olette, for Muffin's contest.
Author's Note: So, um, yeah. In vein of "electric top tango" only…I don't know, not as rushed? Also, note, Immaculate Machine's C'mon Sea Legs was on constant repeat throughout: I blame it entirely.
(Annnnnd I'm very sorry, Muffin, if I complete failed at this. HOPEFULLY THE SORA/RIKU ONE WILL BE READY BY TOMORROW? GOD, I ONLY HOPE.) — pixie paramount (5/10/2008, 6:44 PM)