Title:Sail With Me
Character(s):Amy Cahill, Ian Kabra
Rating: K+
Genre:Romance, General
Summary:Her hand waves, an endless motion, her dress flying in the wind. And he can't help but regret leaving her. Oneshot. [For Joelle8's Songfic Challenge]
Not a songfic, but is inspired by Sky Sailing's "Brielle". The song is beautiful.
Sunlight slowly begins to filter through the raised blinds and see-through curtains, hitting the side of her cheek. He stops packing for a moment and watches as her eyelashes flutter, just the tiniest, tiniest bit. There is a brief glimpse of green which soon disappears as she turns over, away from the sunlight that has made its presence known. Her reddish-brown hair spreads out on the pillows and the sheets, a river of bronzed flames. He continues watching her for a few minutes, memorizing every feature, the way she breathes.
He shakes his head and resumes his work, picking shirts and pants and cramming them into suitcases. He doesn't want to make it harder for himself already. What use is it to dwell on things that, quite conceivably, do not belong to him? He's stayed here long enough, coming and going as he pleases. But this time, it's not just one day or two days; this will be the last time he will leave. Maybe it's cowardly of him to go when she is sleeping, but just looking at her is weakening his resolve.
She shifts her position and he wonders if she knows. But he quickly dismisses the thought; he has not even given her cause to think anything was amiss. Guilt rears up in his chest, a hungry snake thirsting for flesh and blood, poisoning him with doubts and uncertainties that make his hands hesitate. She shifts again; the bed gives a creak that seems to pierce through the silence, and he recovers his earlier mindset, zipping all three suitcases closed. He stands up, straightens his polo and dusts off any material clinging to his dark slacks. Everything is ready. Only the goodbye is left.
He walks to her side of the bed. She hugs a pillow to herself, tightly, the grip of someone who needs something so much and is holding on to it until the last possible instant. Her eyebrows pucker, and a frown replaces the smile on her lips. He wants to wake her, ask her what she's dreaming of, unpack his belongings and get back to bed, lie beside her. But he has decided. He will do this - no detours, no roundabout tricks.
He kisses a soft, fair cheek. Only whispers can tell of sweet dreams they have known so well, memories created from sand and sea and salt. Maybe one day he'll come back, frozen days set ablaze, humid nights dissuaded by steady breeze. Then he turns, takes the suitcases, and rolls them and himself out of the room.
He slips out a handwritten note and presses it into the door of her screened-in porch. He doesn't enjoy this, but he has to do it. Like a butterfly, you've floated by, and now you're alone; wings beating hopelessly in an atmosphere without love.
Love,
I'll be gone for a while. I'm leaving early this year –but I'll see you around our dear ocean town. When the new sights grow old and I start to feel cold, I'll sail home again. I wish I knew when I'll be back again.
So until then, I wish you well.
He makes sure it won't fly away and then begins to load the suitcases into the yacht bobbing in the water as it waits for him. Beautiful ocean blue. When he is done, he hoists himself up and takes one look at the house – last sight, last time. Then he turns to the silent driver and signals for him to start. At first the engine purrs; then that soft, almost feline purr turns into what can only be the roar of a lion.
She walks out the door, not bothering with the note that falls at her feet. Still wearing white and robin's egg blue, her grandmother's dress,the expression in her eyes enough to tell him that she has known all along of his departure. She can see through the lies in his words and knows he will never come back.
"Ian," she says, just his name, just that heartbreak written all over her face.
He tries to smile. "I'll be back soon, love."
She closes her eyes, breathes in, breathes deep. Calming the frantic beats in her chest, the whispery flutters in her stomach. "Take care."
The yacht sails away and he watches her. Her hand waves, an endless motion, her dress flying in the wind. And he can't help but regret leaving her.
"Amy," he says, then more urgently: "Amy! Sail with me!"
His voice is drowned out by the motor as her hair whips around her face. The note is blown into the waters and he sees it sink. Her hand clutches the door tightly, wishing that she could follow the yacht, heart and soul, swimming alongside it. Then she disappears into the house, wondering if she'll ever get used to living alone.
Sail with me, his amber eyes plead, but there is no turning back; she is gone from sight. His plea only becomes a line of melody riding the winds; then, as is the fate of many things, is lost at sea.
The yacht goes on.
Challenge Name:The Songfic Challenge
Challenge Description:To put it frankly, I've never read a songfic that I really, really liked. No offense to anyone. For this challenge, you have to write a story based on a song. Wow. Difficult. :P
Challenge Criteria:
1. The words of the song- at least some of them- HAVE to be included in the story. I don't care how you fit them in, just make sure you do. Be creative with it!
2. The genres can be anything you want. Romance, humor, angst, horror, western... whatever you want. I'm not picky.
3. If your songfic will include romance, the pairing can be anything. As I'm sure you all know, I love originality when it comes to them. XD
4. Credit MUST BE GIVEN where it's due. As in, to the actual artist of the song. Just put it in the Author's Note or something. :P
5. Please- and I am seriously BEGGING you here- DO NOT MAKE IT CLICHE. That's the main problem with songfics- they ALL have some element of cheesiness in them, and it drives me INSANE. Whoever can manage to write a songfic that is NOT cliche, I will love you forever.
6. Your summary MUST INCLUDE "For Joelle8's Songfic Challenge". Just to make my life a bit easier.
Challenge Entry Due Date:Hmm... let's see... *searches for a random day in her head* NOVEMBER 25, 2010. Thanksgiving! :D
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I had to edit the spacing because, for some reason, FFnet has something against italics and single space.
I also had to tweak the lyrics a little bit. The song is, after all, in First-person. The fic is in third-person. So I had to switch things around.
A big thank you goes to my beta, Joelle8, who also happens to be the maker of the challenge. I have no idea what she thinks, but I do know this probably doesn't live up to her standards, though she won't tell me outright.
And yes, this is heck of a lot cliche. It's hard to write an Amian that isn't cliche. No, I'm not making excuses for myself, either.
Take care,
~Wings~