It was completely silent when it hit the ground and rolled. The grass hushed it. Shallowing the noise of its decent like a hungry whale. It didn't roll to far, the grass swallowed the movement like the sound.
He looked blankly at the colored pencil that had slid from the case to the ground. Gray. Perfect. Why'd he have the feeling that red would fall next?
He made no move to retrieve it. He didn't need it right away. He wasn't even sure he'd finish the picture he was drawing.
He originally thought he couldn't draw. Like most people, he believed that his stick figures were bad, believed that his people looked like melons with legs. But, like most things in his short life, the ability came as a surprise. He could, and would for the rest of his life, draw. His hands, although, had a mind of their own. He found himself drawing pictures of people which made his heart flatter in pain.
Maybe just one person he found himself drawing the most. His soul filled with guilt at the sight of those eyes. Sometimes he felt physically heavier and older from the guilt. It seemed to sit on his shoulders, making them curl downwards, it seemed to crow into his ear how weak he was.
On some pages of his sketchbook, red eyes gleamed with unnatural light for a drawing. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that face was alive.
The red fell. The blow softened. The fall silent. The roll short. It stopped perfectly, laying beside the gray. Flawless, like they had just been set down there. Maybe they had, God had always played cruel tricks on him.
Sweet sixteen had passed him by a year ago. At least, that's what his birthday cake said. He had the strong belief that the thing was a liar. Sixteen hadn't felt sweet at all, it had felt almost bitter. He felt empty inside, even as people smiled down at him and the cake.
Seventeen felt no better. He was alone now. There was no more smiling faces looking down at him and he felt a bit better because of that. The emptiness inside him always seemed larger when people smiled at him.
He'd lived three years. He didn't know if that made him a little bit stronger or a stubborn weakling. He figured it was the latter.
There was a slight meow beside him and he looked up from the ground. The creature in question was his cat. Gray fur with red eyes. He found it as a kitten on the streets. He needed company of something that had no ability to judge his words or actions.
Somehow, the creature provided confront in her selfish meowing. Maybe it was the colors that did the trick. Those colors seemed burned into his mind. Those colors seemed to soothe him when he needed soothing.
He reached out and scratched her ear, listening to the content purring. A lopsided smile crossed his face. With the cat around, he didn't feel so lonely.
He reached out for the stray colored pencils, maybe they'd stay in the box as he went home.
~~~~~~@~~~~~~
The patter of paws was the only sound in the apartment besides the movement of a pencil. He liked the silence at times like this, while he drew. Helped him think, how strangely. Most people thought better with sound or music in their ears.
Enzeru, the gray creature, was on the move throughout the rooms. Probably looking to what she pushed her bowl full of food to. Sometimes, she was most forgetful creature he ever met.
He smiled softly when the pattering sound stopped and silence almost burned in his ears. Somehow he knew all his smiles looked sad. Not sad attempts, just sad looking. Like he wanted to really smile but didn't know how to do it right.
He wondered if he ever knew or would ever know.
The gray and red seemed to have decided they didn't like their place beside the blues and greens. They seemed to have decided to always lay apart from the rest but together, side-by-side.
Those colors always seemed to repeat themselves in his life. He saw them almost every night in his dreams.
He'd been seeing them every night in his dreams for years. Was it almost three now? He couldn't remember.
He didn't mind not remembering. The dreams weren't unpleasant. They never got near the boundaries between nightmares and beautiful dreams. He always felt a mixture of happiness, wistfulness and sereneness when he woke up in the mornings. He felt somewhat at peace with himself after them, he didn't feel so guilty.
The light kisses that he could almost really feel and the breathed words of feelings came so close to reality. It made his lonely world less bleak and more worth it. There were days where he spent longer periods of time within the dream world, those days he woke up with a different feeling in his blood.
He had only felt that feeling once for real. He swore he'd never feel it again unless it was from the same person.
He never breathed a word about that to anyone, not even when his connections to the other was questioned. He never dared speak about it, it was a experience he had with another, why should he speak about such things?
He'd never feel it again, he swore that. It came from the only person he truly wanted to be his friend and more. The only one who seemed to understand.
The only one, the one he felt guilt over. God played cruel tricks on him. Choose mankind or the one you love. Cruel tricks that pained his entire life.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he hardly noticed when a drop of something landed on his sketch board. Hardly, but he did. His eyes widened with sudden realization. The liquid had made curved paths along both his cheeks. He blinked a couple times, trying to get rid of the last of them before rubbing them away with the long sleeve of his shirt.
He knew he was weak, it was a good thing art was his life and not something behind a desk. His mind wandered often these days. In his profession, nobody cared how depressing you looked, just cared about what you put out. In his profession, people often admired the beauty of the soul caught apon the canvas.
Maybe he'd paint the picture he was currently working on. The red eyes would surely make a couple people stop and think. He rubbed his thumb gently over one of the cheekbones. Maybe not, the person in the picture may be far to dear to him to share.
Another sad smile crossed his lips. Maybe he should paint it and hang it on his wall. That way he could get the beauty in oils and still not share. Nobody ever came to his apartment.
Maybe, maybe.
He looked the picture over. He was finished the rough. The true question was, would it become a work of art in oils or watercolors or even poster paints? Or would it stay a rough drawing, highlighted in a few key colors, joining so many other pictures like it?
They once told him, sleeping was a good way to make decisions.
~~~~~~@~~~~~~
The happiness seemed to hang in the air.
There was light breathing against one of his ears, the only warning before he was embraced from behind. The warmth of the breathing and the thin body pressed against his back was welcomed. They made his heart tremble with joy. They made him forget all guilt.
Light kisses moved along his jaw and neck, making him turn his head to give the other better access. He could feel those lips find a resting place in where his shoulder and neck met.
"Something worries you." The other always knew when something bothered him, they had to be soul mates.
"I always feel so lonely when I awake." He mumbled, his fingers entwining with the others. He felt a natural calm flood his soul, the same calm that always filled him when he was here.
"I've never left you alone. I've done everything in my power to provide you with a piece of me at all times. The colors, these dreams, Enzeru. I don't want you to feel alone and scared, your fragile heart deserves to feel to feel only happiness and love." The words were breathed calmly over his skin. These words caused his body relax completely, making the other smile against pale skin.
He felt almost overly dependent, but the other didn't complain. He turned his head again with a request, lips parted. This request a filled within seconds, a mouth moved over his own.
A tear threatened to fall. Rolling down his cheek, hanging along the edge of his jaw.
One gentle had came up to dry the tear. Momentarily rubbing affectionately against his cheek before dropping back down to clasp his hand again.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, ashamed of himself and his own weakness.
Lips pressed against his neck, above the beating rhythm in his veins. "Shhhh....... does these tears not mean your happy?"
"Oh God how I love you. There is no way I can be unhappy with your presence around me." He said in the same whisper, only this time the tone was filled with love for the other and not self-pity.
He could feel the wide smile on his neck. "I could always sense a beautiful soul within you, one that always deserved love."
He smiled. Only in his dreams could he really smile. In his dreams he could always feel the others presence stronger.
"Kaworu......" His voice took on a dreamy note.
~~~~~~@~~~~~~
Enzeru was licking his nose, that is what woke him up. Her red eyes stared down at him with a calmness he saw often in his dreams.
She probably wanted her breakfast.
He smiled the only kind of smile he could manage while awake and sat up, cat jumping safely away as he did so. He scratched the top of his head before getting up and moving towards the kitchen. Enzeru followed along closely at his heels.
Soon, her face was busy with her bowl.
He really didn't feel like having breakfast, at least not at the moment. Maybe he should do some work on his art.
He had decided to paint his most recent drawing. The next few hours were spent transferring the rough drawing to an outline on the canvas. He still didn't know if this one would be one for sale or a personal joy. He'd figure that out later, when he came face to face with the end product. For now, he wished to paint.
His oils were lined up. But, as always, gray and red stood apart, like they'd been placed there by someone else. He never tried to line them up with the other colors. He never would try, they gave him comfort. A hint of the presence that always surrounded him.
It took hours more to paint it. But in the end, it was truly worth the trouble. The red eyes gleamed with life that was impossible for a painting. It was perfect in his mind. The beauty of it made his heart pulse with pride.
He still didn't know what he was going to do with it.
Enzeru meowed, apparently she liked this new piece of art. It was past noon now, he was going to have to feed the both of them soon. How time flies.
He could feel the guilt settling down on his shoulders as he made his lunch. But it wasn't quite the same kind of guilt as he suffered with several times before. This guilt was only of the fact that his lover could not completely share his life.
Some days it would be this guilt or some other kind.
He could still feel the kisses from his lover in the other plane.
The painting he just did would be sold, he needed to release some new art soon anyways. He really didn't need it to remind him of the other. He already had the colors, his other pieces of art, Enzeru and his dreams. His lovers presence was all around him.
This day, unlike so many others, he felt completely at peace.
He walked out onto the balcony and looked up at the sky. Wherever heaven was, Kaworu had to be there. Had to. The other had done so much for him. He would have crumbled without the other.
Under the red eyes of his angel, he swore he'd live as long as the presence of the other always stayed close by to him. He swore his heart, soul and life into the hands of the other, knowing the red eyed angel would never do anything to hurt him.
Shinji would live with guilt and a certain loneliness as an artist as long the one he swore to wouldn't let him be crushed.
The red and gray oils rolled onto the floor, always beside each other. The caps were on so they didn't spill.
Enzeru meowed, the answer to his promises, offering one in return. Promising him that the other would always be there, that his heart, soul and life would always be treasured.
Shinji felt at peace on this one bright sunny day. The heavens seem to be in favor of him today.