Dust Settles
This sounds a lot like my last fic, which isn't surprising...trying to write more, but school is getting in the way. This one was kinda depressing. Oo.
It would be a stretch to call it a cathedral, a stretch. But the light streaming through the large glass panes reminded him of the airy feel of a gothic cathedral. The towering, slim stained glass windows rising straight to the heavens, the ether in between illuminated by beams of unearthly light, the silence, the grandeur and hollowness, the emptiness and purity of the soul, almost tangible in all of its complexities, at his fingertips. It was a stretch.
Cheek resting against his fist, eyelids heavy, the echoes of his mind, the curve of his memories, the tug and call of his past, the laborious crawl of his sins breaking through the thin membrane of water to the light, undaunted. A broken mirror of himself, shattered and riddled by bullets, the shrill scream in the dark of a murdered child. Innocent blood spilled by his hands, soaking through every thread of fabric staining his heart an ugly, infinite black.
Sometimes he just wanted to let go, to stop clinging so desperately to consciousness, to loose himself in the tangles of the world, to jump off that cliff and forget forever the pain. The easy way out, so undignified, so cowardly, but he sometimes he didn't care. He could lie forever in the dreams of what could have been and what should have been, drink from the cup of despair and wallow in his pit of unfathomable misery.
When did he become so desperate? The angst from where did it come? Was it the war? Was it his silly mind, his twisted, frivolous mind from which evidently lacked all sanity?
And then there was her. Her gentle amber eyes, the caramel sweetness he could almost taste, her smile, her lips, lips of an angel. Her fingers, the contact he longs, lusts for. The little hope which he harbors come from her, her gentle voice that swims in his mind long after in the deep darkness of the night. His eyes shut, drawn by the serenity that masks the chaos.
The door creaks open, his eyes flicker. Dark, ravenous eyes catch the sight of her blue uniform, a forced smile, the most subtle movement on his lips.
Her perfect smile greets him, she steps inside. The sound of her footfalls is a symphony to his ears, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, the strands of her hair shimmering, the small ones almost translucent in the light.
"Neglecting paperwork again?" She asks, voice soft as honey dripping off the end of a spoon. "I've come to expect that of you."
She notes the dim look in his eyes, the listlessness that hangs in the air, a stale air reminiscent of death on a battlefield that lingers the office these days. She wants to reach for his hand, to free him from whatever is ailing him. He doesn't tell her, he never asks, never pleas, always quite, expecting to help everyone. But who's helping him?
A small chuckle, "I'd be worried if you didn't." He looks up at her, shuffling through papers at a nearby table, the one thing he didn't loose yet, the one thing he can't loose. The one thing he's going to hold tightly near his heart.
The distant sound of ivories fills him mind, a forgotten melody from his children, the black and white keys sound of brighter days. From deep inside a small bud breaks through the dirt, rises slowly. Blooming, white petals springs forth, white and delicate in the light, pure and untainted, hope.
"Forget the paperwork." He says, "To hell with the paperwork!" In one swoop, he brushes aside the papers, sheets of white rectangular paper flies through the air.
Leaping out of his chair, he grabs hold of her wrist, pulls her close to him. A tender, warm smile forms, the first in a long time. He could feel her warmth, radiating from her body. She is flustered, staring back at him, puzzled and bewildered by his actions.
Salvation.
When all is said and done, he will have her, his fingers intertwined with hers, the smell of her hair, the taste of her lips. He will have her by his side, the gentle reassurance of her voice, her touch, her arms around him at night. Her, as the dust settles in the beams of luminous light. Her.