Fandom: Viewfinder
Title: in between the multiple prints.
Rating: pg-13
Pairing: Asami x Takaba
Description - Takaba wakes up to a sleeping Asami.
Disclaimer - Viewfinder/Finder no Hyouteki isn't Yui's.
In between the multiple prints.
By miyamoto yui
I blink my eyes to an uncommon sight.
You're right next to me and you're still sleeping.
In _my bed_.
Isn't that strange? You're _always_ up before me. After all, your time-oriented schedule even has me jotted down in that stupid planner of yours.
That's just how things are with you.
You make 'time' for me. I'm etched in pencil instead of pen.
I'm someone who doesn't even merit any effort in ink.
And yet, I can still lie here peacefully with my heart beating a million miles per minute. Your closed, sleeping eyes hold a visage of calmness. The tenseness of your expressions are all temporarily eliminated. Usually, you have a crease on your forehead with critical eyes that glare at everything in sight.
I am part of that small vicinity in which you watch me with such precision that I wonder if you distinguish anything as 'important' and 'unimportant' instead of 'useless to me' and 'more useless to me'.
Despite knowing all this, I still yearn to reach out towards you.
I want to capture this moment that you're not drowning me with your eyes and I become so lost that I forget who I am or what I'm doing. I forget that I have to keep myself intact and not be sucked into your world.
But sometimes, that world looks so wonderful from this distorted perspective, just like a kaleidoscope with all its colors and repeated images making a vivacious, haunting, multi-tinted pattern.
That's part of the reason why I became a photographer. When I was little, I thought it was so cool to see things that were there and things that weren't.
But where do you fall in here, Asami? And where am I within you?
A lock of your hair falls in between your eyes. Trying not to wake you up, I find myself pushing it over your ear. Then, I pull my hand back, fearing that you'll suddenly pull me all over again.
I take a deep breath. Even I'm confused by my own words.
Even as I see all this, there's that picture I have of you inside of my mind. This person's gentleness is so accurately executed with such exactness that if you fail to capture it, you will miss it completely. Also, this person is just as vulnerable as anyone else when he kisses you until you cannot tell if you're still alive to feel it, sucking on your tongue as if it was the only part of your body allowed to be kissed.
This person is the hidden one in the background. It is a part of you like your brand-name suits, but someone does not notice it very much because it's something they are used to seeing in association to you and so it naturally doesn't stand out.
But you, above all the people I've ever met…
…you are the one most aware of your own faults.
You know very well what you're doing. You know what are the plans, the alternatives and the consequences.
You never tell me in words how much you sometimes do not want to know what people are thinking or what they're doing as you witness things you never want to tell me about. I know this for a fact when I met you for the first time. When you wrapped me and eyed me so gravely while punishing me with my own film, I became aware of the fact that these kinds of things did not faze you.
It didn't scare me to be tortured like that.
I realized later that it made me sad that you saw worse things than I ever did.
Even with all the pictures I took at all times of the day or various places I've ever gone to, nothing would ever evoke the kind of emotion I felt whenever you watched me, waiting for my reaction.
And here I came back over and over, playing our worthless game as if this interference could ever shadow the truth between us. I keep on taking pictures to uncover the 'truth', but I can't seem to turn away from you.
I'm always trying to capture your image into my head, but I'm always distracted by your captivating and firm eyes.
You touch me and leave such an impression that I forget that you're not even there to give me what my body craves for at ungodly hours.
But, I cannot distinguish whom I prefer more: the pictures I take or the person in front of me.
Either way, I never get to know you. You don't let me enter as freely as you go into my body.
Actually, I have a small picture of you that I bury deep in my wallet. It's one of you looking off to one side as you're stepping into your car with your damned cellphone plastered onto your ear as if it were part of your skin.
And you make fun of me about my camera? If I ever take away your phone, what would you do, Asami?
Oh god, this is so stupid. I'm getting petty over an electronic contraption…
Well maybe…
…because he pays full attention to whomever's on the other line…
Sometimes, as much as I will deny it, I've looked at my phone wondering when if you'd take me seriously if I called you…
My eyes wander to blankly look at the white sheets with a pout on my face.
But as I lift up my eyes to watch you again, you catch me. You're staring straight into me.
I hold my breath as you waste no time in reaching out your hand to pull my neck into a kiss.
I don't know what I mean to you because you never tell me. That's why I have to rely on all the pictures in my head or the ones I hold onto with my fingertips.
Or am I purposely trying not to see what you've obviously told me from the start?
This is the true power of images of the eyes and the ones in our mind…
But I don't want to be caught up with what I'm starting to like and get used to and make it the reality that may not have been there at all.
As you kiss my neck while leaving your marks all over my body with your mouth and your fingertips, I finally realize why I keep on coming back.
I'm always taking pictures of you because I want to discover the mystery of our situation…
but I'm just as scared to know the answer.
There's another part of the same picture of you I have in my head. It's someone that is pushy, presumptuous, and possessive. This is the picture you distribute to everyone that comes into contact with you. This is the very image you burn into everyone's mind until they cannot see anything but that.
Like any convincing advertisement, that's the main objective: To make a profit off the product you're trying to sell. You reap rewards if luck, charisma, and intelligence are on your side.
The more you draw people in, the more you're able to make them unable to live without your product. It isn't just a want anymore.
It becomes an ignited, yearning need unable to be satiated by ordinary, generic means.
It needs to be the _real thing_.
Is this what you've done to me? Is this why I'm able to feel so ashamed of wanting to be touched and caressed by you even if there's no meaning behind it for you?
My eyes water from the pain as I press the back of my head onto the pillows with my hands holding onto the blankets with all my might. But I'm also crying in between.
You kiss my eyes and I cry even more even though you think you're not being gentle with me.
You never are though…
Whether you handle me like this or the heart that I refuse to relinquish to your care…
I'm always taking pictures…
_…because I want there to be a meaning, Asami._
But as I scream with all my heart bleeding from my mouth, for the first time in my life, I wish I could puncture out my own eyes and not see anything.
Am I lying to myself? Or are you really being honest?
You don't hear my voice.
And I don't know how to talk when it's really important.
So, I'll continue to chase after you because I can't seem to escape from you. I find myself not wanting to, forgetting why I come to you and why do I have to go too.
All I can do is take pictures that speak for me.
In between the multiple prints I have of you,
I'm hoping to catch a glimpse of the original.
Disgracefully, in order to do that, I've got to convert you into thinking it'll be worth your while.
I find myself reaching for your face and pulling you into a deep kiss…
Asami, you've made me want more than a promise of the advertisement. Every time you've tried to push that possibility away, it comes back to us with the full force of its sincere honesty.
And so, now, I'm more than convinced that I can't live without the real thing.
Desperately and hopelessly, I actually believe it.
It's because of that picture. Someone else took it, but I remember.
That was the day you were watching me as if there was nothing else in your world to conquer but me.
Becoming more lost and confused into you, I kiss you even more while pressing my fingers into your back to make sure that you're real and not just the workings of my warped imagination…
Owari.
-
Author's note: The goal today was to make a fic in fifty minutes. * blink, blink * (It takes me 2 hours flat to finish a full one-shot. ^^;;;) And I don't know where this came from, but hey, I made my time limit! Go me~!
I hope you enjoyed it!
Love,
Yui
March 26, 2005, 2:48 AM