PJPrincess: Hey all! This is an odd likely ficcy that I just had cooking up in my mind. Enjoy!
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Rating: PG
Summary: "Those words! They still to this day pierce my heart. If only he could see me now! Crying, weeping, for him! Of course, he saw me cry before him that day, but never with such a pain and earnest as this."
Pairings: You'll have to read to find out.
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Sitting at an empty desk seemed irregular to me. Not seeing papers fluttering across it's hard, coffee stained, re-sanded, re-stained top almost seemed to be like a supernatural delight to me. Yet, at that same moment, not seeing those papers sucked me back into the harsh black reality that always did when I looked at that empty desk. Remorse. Pain. Sadness. Lack. How I still look at that sight and wish I could go back and be apart of what I was no longer near. How I long to be near it, near all of them, but even more so, near him.
He's back here again. Nimble white, thin fingers gracefully and swiftly rub against the smooth top of my desk. He watches, waiting for something to happen, anything to happen. But nothing. Forcefully his eyes grow wider with anger, then filter through as sadness. No more tear-stained masks, but now, only tear-stained faces. Dark emerald eyes on a pale, slender face, streamed across with clear tears. I want to take his head into my arms and hug him, but to no avail does my wishing take me. No longer can I softly speak his name and see his eyes light up at my voice. No longer can I watch as he pours his coffee and sips it between my speaking and then his interuption or agreements. No longer.. no longer can I watch him busily slouch over papers. No longer. Just, no longer.
I'm crying again. First the tears rounded below my soft blue eyes, but, before my strength could keep them back, they stream down my cheeks to my chin. A soft thrust of force, my head is in my hands again, soaking my them to a drenched state. Why? Why did I have to love him? Those eyes, the frame, the strength, the nobility, the heart, the soul. All of it. Not one bit of him did I not love, adore, admire. All of it seemed so perfect. So perfect and deserving of all the earth and colonies notice. But never once did the earth notice him. Not once did they notice his behind the scenes act of all that ever happened where he worked.
He's crying again. I watch as he falls to his knees, hands pressed up against the desk, head bowed, words of sorrow and pain repeating under his breath. I can't watch any longer or else I will become worse of then before.
He is my love. No other way can the simplicity of what he is to me be explained. My love, forever my love, nothing less. And that love started the one day he looked to me and spoke words that let loose tears I'd held back for years and years.
Those words! They still to this day pierce my heart. If only he could see me now! Crying, weeping, for him! Of course, he saw me cry before him that day, but never with such a pain and earnest as this. Eyes curled under with tears, face stained and wrought with fright, stance shaking and heart beating ridiculously fast.
I am not scared. I've never been scared. But still, I wish fear would creep to myself and over take, so at least one normality of humane insticts would be within my grasp. Yes, he and I, we hid behind masks. Masks of fight, war, and pain. Not anymore, mind you. I threw away my mask the first time he spoke tome. The first time he spoke to me, he opened my heart and showed me what true love really was. True love is not showing how well you can live with the other, but more so, being able to tell the other their faults without having to be expounded with fear of rejection or ridicule as a result. I never ridiculed in return, but accepted his words. Now his words seem so far. So distant.. so lost from me.
I'm watching him again, his curled figure on the floor. The tears have stopped streaming now, but still, I could never have been able withstand the sight of him crying. Slowly unfurling himself, his legs stretch just to the point of the desk from the wall of the cubicle that I once hated. The hair of this angel rests upon his right eye, both closed in calm. Slowly, I bring myself to reach forward and touch him. Dare I? Is there going to be some sad and horrible reaction if I do it? Will I still be reassured that my love can no longer reach him?
I throw that thought aside! My paled, soft, delicate hand reaches towards his face. At first, I feel as though I can not capture the warmth of his cheek, but slowly feeling comes to my hands. His eyes open, and for a moment, our eyes lock together. My eyes shut. I cannot bare his eyes pouring into mine. I see to deeply into his hurting soul. But, my eyes closed does not prevent me from reaching softly down to his lips with mine.
I open my eyes again, just before my lips can carass his. His eyes are closed again. Peaceful his expression seems to be. My hand is still on his face, and he seems to realise it. Softly I can feel the warmth of his cheek nuzzle itself against my cold and numbing hand. With no longer of a wait, I lightly put my lips upon his, gracing his thin soft, pale pink lips with my lusher, fluffed redish ones. I can almost feel his lips on mine, but no reaction. His eyes are open again. A vision beckons me to leave him now, I hate this part.
'Good bye, my love.' I whisper in thought as my hand slips from his face and I slowly flow backwards towards my abode in heaven. 'Good bye.'
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PJPrincess: All right ya'll! I'm done, so far! Unless, you guys want a sec. chappie! Just review, if you want one. Bye!
-Bye
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Rating: PG
Summary: "Those words! They still to this day pierce my heart. If only he could see me now! Crying, weeping, for him! Of course, he saw me cry before him that day, but never with such a pain and earnest as this."
Pairings: You'll have to read to find out.
-
Sitting at an empty desk seemed irregular to me. Not seeing papers fluttering across it's hard, coffee stained, re-sanded, re-stained top almost seemed to be like a supernatural delight to me. Yet, at that same moment, not seeing those papers sucked me back into the harsh black reality that always did when I looked at that empty desk. Remorse. Pain. Sadness. Lack. How I still look at that sight and wish I could go back and be apart of what I was no longer near. How I long to be near it, near all of them, but even more so, near him.
He's back here again. Nimble white, thin fingers gracefully and swiftly rub against the smooth top of my desk. He watches, waiting for something to happen, anything to happen. But nothing. Forcefully his eyes grow wider with anger, then filter through as sadness. No more tear-stained masks, but now, only tear-stained faces. Dark emerald eyes on a pale, slender face, streamed across with clear tears. I want to take his head into my arms and hug him, but to no avail does my wishing take me. No longer can I softly speak his name and see his eyes light up at my voice. No longer can I watch as he pours his coffee and sips it between my speaking and then his interuption or agreements. No longer.. no longer can I watch him busily slouch over papers. No longer. Just, no longer.
I'm crying again. First the tears rounded below my soft blue eyes, but, before my strength could keep them back, they stream down my cheeks to my chin. A soft thrust of force, my head is in my hands again, soaking my them to a drenched state. Why? Why did I have to love him? Those eyes, the frame, the strength, the nobility, the heart, the soul. All of it. Not one bit of him did I not love, adore, admire. All of it seemed so perfect. So perfect and deserving of all the earth and colonies notice. But never once did the earth notice him. Not once did they notice his behind the scenes act of all that ever happened where he worked.
He's crying again. I watch as he falls to his knees, hands pressed up against the desk, head bowed, words of sorrow and pain repeating under his breath. I can't watch any longer or else I will become worse of then before.
He is my love. No other way can the simplicity of what he is to me be explained. My love, forever my love, nothing less. And that love started the one day he looked to me and spoke words that let loose tears I'd held back for years and years.
Those words! They still to this day pierce my heart. If only he could see me now! Crying, weeping, for him! Of course, he saw me cry before him that day, but never with such a pain and earnest as this. Eyes curled under with tears, face stained and wrought with fright, stance shaking and heart beating ridiculously fast.
I am not scared. I've never been scared. But still, I wish fear would creep to myself and over take, so at least one normality of humane insticts would be within my grasp. Yes, he and I, we hid behind masks. Masks of fight, war, and pain. Not anymore, mind you. I threw away my mask the first time he spoke tome. The first time he spoke to me, he opened my heart and showed me what true love really was. True love is not showing how well you can live with the other, but more so, being able to tell the other their faults without having to be expounded with fear of rejection or ridicule as a result. I never ridiculed in return, but accepted his words. Now his words seem so far. So distant.. so lost from me.
I'm watching him again, his curled figure on the floor. The tears have stopped streaming now, but still, I could never have been able withstand the sight of him crying. Slowly unfurling himself, his legs stretch just to the point of the desk from the wall of the cubicle that I once hated. The hair of this angel rests upon his right eye, both closed in calm. Slowly, I bring myself to reach forward and touch him. Dare I? Is there going to be some sad and horrible reaction if I do it? Will I still be reassured that my love can no longer reach him?
I throw that thought aside! My paled, soft, delicate hand reaches towards his face. At first, I feel as though I can not capture the warmth of his cheek, but slowly feeling comes to my hands. His eyes open, and for a moment, our eyes lock together. My eyes shut. I cannot bare his eyes pouring into mine. I see to deeply into his hurting soul. But, my eyes closed does not prevent me from reaching softly down to his lips with mine.
I open my eyes again, just before my lips can carass his. His eyes are closed again. Peaceful his expression seems to be. My hand is still on his face, and he seems to realise it. Softly I can feel the warmth of his cheek nuzzle itself against my cold and numbing hand. With no longer of a wait, I lightly put my lips upon his, gracing his thin soft, pale pink lips with my lusher, fluffed redish ones. I can almost feel his lips on mine, but no reaction. His eyes are open again. A vision beckons me to leave him now, I hate this part.
'Good bye, my love.' I whisper in thought as my hand slips from his face and I slowly flow backwards towards my abode in heaven. 'Good bye.'
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PJPrincess: All right ya'll! I'm done, so far! Unless, you guys want a sec. chappie! Just review, if you want one. Bye!
-Bye