A.N.: Hey, I haven't written a story here in a while, so I decided to upload something before I forget to.
This is from Mike to Nanaba. Abstract/prose/poem/metaphorical...thing.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin.
You silent winter bloom, you crooked blade grown to break apart, staring at me like I'm the last hope left for repentance—when you're scared, close your eyes. I'll be there to catch you at the end.
Does your heart choke you at your throat? Your calloused fingers scrape over my skin as if in search for the right words to say. Don't worry, I lose them all the time, they tear out from my stomach in tangles of misplaced thoughts—they hurt—
Don't forget to breathe, I wonder all the time if you do. The color of your eyes intermingles with the sky as I float across the surface of the grass—I imagine that you're here with me—and they wash out all the webs still clinging to the corners of my mind. When you suck the air into your fragile lungs, your lashes flutter soft as butterfly wings. I picture it all the time, I hope you remember to breathe so I can keep painting up your picture the same in my mind.
The distance between our hands is cold and warm at the same time, and you attempt to cradle my palm like some delicate pearl—your slender throat beckons a string of them; a better life and I might've granted them that, but my pockets have always been empty and you continue to whisper sweet words into the wind—you're perfect how you are, I wouldn't want anything more, never change, I miss you everyday—but the spaces never close and we remain where we are.
Your strong-lined figure melds soft against my side. You tell me no one else makes you feel the way I do. The curve of your back meets my chest in one smooth line, and for a second the jut of your elbow and the turn of your shoulder jab sharp into me, before the rise and dip of your hip and waist and the arch of your throat—break the spell—
You mumble some wish into my shirt, lost within the fabric, and your crystal-flossed hands reach up to touch my face. Your trigger-hardened fingers linger across my jaw. I'm wondering where they're headed when you say, softly, "I hope I don't die alone."
You shattered frozen rose, you twisted dagger born to cut down, looking at me like I'm the only one worth saving—when you're scared, close your eyes and think of me. I'll be there to catch you at the bottom.
Sun-stained locks of hair curl about your face, press into the grass, roll against my fingertips. Your eyes shine like pools of water, clear and smooth and only halfway unruly—they devour the last parts of myself left to take.
Listen, I know, the scars on your body trail places that never see the light of day and I know that most days you forget how beautiful you are, but every time you smile this warm feeling melts me from the inside out and the marks that span your skin remind me we're still human.
Don't forget to smile, I worry all the time you do. The glisten of your teeth when you laugh sinks into my flesh and shakes me down to my core. When your lips turn upward I imagine the world is still whole and ours, and when you look at me I feel the sun on both sides.
Does your heart ache there in your chest? Your mouth ghosts over my cheek trying to ease the longing back out. Don't worry, I always find a way—it's you, but—
The taste of your lips on mine reminds me of summer, like flowers and cool water and hot, hot days spent lying on the ground, boneless—somehow familiar, somehow nostalgic—but I've never kissed you before—
You mumble in a voice that weaves itself into the breeze, "I don't want to die alone," and it melds into my skin as you press another kiss against my lips so softly—whispers of lost pleas and incomplete worlds—
You feeble bud, you warped shard shaped to scar, smiling at me like I'm the only thing keeping you attached to earth—when you're scared, close your eyes and breathe. I'll be there to hold you when it's over.
You're midway between crying and laughing, and I can't tell which way you're leaning toward. When you kiss me, it hardly reaches me and I know it's killing you inside to realize that—
Death has a funny way of doing these things.
You whisper in a tone that we both know speaks more than you do, "I just want to see you again, one more time," and it twines around my mind until neither one of us can think anymore—
These dreams are all we have anymore and I'm not sure how to tell you this is all that keeps me grounded.
Listen, the wind sings your name better than I do and the sky can wrap its arms around you better than I can, and I know it hurts right now because I can feel it, too—I can still feel you, every day—
So close your eyes, forget the world, believe my words—I'll be here to catch you when it's over.
~~...~~X~~...~~
A.N.: Short? Yeah.
Please review and let me know what you think!
