Title: Glasses
Author: Granuaile
A/N: It's my little ficlet of doom to introduce my self into...this...place. Be gentle, it is small and cannot defend itself.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything, and not making any money. Suing will only get you three American dollars in Coke cans.
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It's funny how life looks through glasses. Like you're on one side of a window and everyone, everything else is out there, looking at you from their side of the wall. Sometimes you feel protected from them, and at other times, shoved away. But when the glasses are off, things are completely different.
When the glasses are off, all I could see through the window is blurred and not really there, not even real. All I'm aware of is me, is him, is the phenomenon that is us. Without the barrier between me and everything, I am open. Open as I lay in bed, eyes closed, waiting for the voice to come, and, every night, it does. We connect.
And no one can see it. No one can see it because they only see me through the glasses and not through the dark, chilled air of the night as I drift in and out of his embrace, even though he isn't physically there. They cannot feel his cold breath on their necks; they cannot listen to the hissing and growling coming from deep within his soul. No, they just cower in fear, run away. At least it means that I'm special, and they're just them.
It's amazing, though, what we can do without glasses and them. He says that we can rule the world, and I like that idea. Throwing away the hero's cape forever, that might be hard, but the rewards will be great, or so I'm told. The cape, the glasses, the memories, all gone, he says, but I have to be patient.
For now, I have to be stared at by the world through glasses.