I know I'm not giving it much of a rest... I just wanted to have two chapters up so you could see chapter titles...
Anyway, my doves! I welcome you to chapter 2 of the out-of-season Valentine's Day fic!
I paced across the length of my apartment, my mind still wrapped around the letter I'd composed.
Had I said everything? Had I been clear enough? Did I convey my feelings, my heart?
Oh, sweet Mother Gaia, I wanted that letter back so I could burn it!
By the tears of the Goddess, this was turning me into a nervous wreck!
If your precious Angeal could see you now... Mocked the dark voice in one corner of my mind.
Angeal had been the one to teach me strength and honor. How could my strength abandon me now, when his had never left him over the course of the last year –a year that had been likely spent wondering if I could ever feel the same way about him and if our long friendship would come to an end if I couldn't– even through the strain and the ruts and the trials?
It had taken me a year to even screw up the courage to send that response! I couldn't imagine the strength of will and bravery that it would have taken to write that first letter, as Angeal had!
It had been the sweet Banora White wine and the hour that had given me the mutable courage, I was certain. Writing a love letter like an adolescent girl was always so much easier at 0200 hours. That was why I had a collection of love letters and longing poetry and angst-ridden prose in neatly labeled boxes beneath my bed –because I found that sleep deserted me at that hour and that he was always the one thing on my mind.
That response should have been little more than another letter in another sealed envelope in this year's box. After all, I had composed over fifty replies to that letter, none of which I ever sent. I blamed the sweet apple wine –a gift from Angeal, if I were honest– for the courage it took to place the stamp in the corner and slip it into the mail slot. I certainly had never had the courage to do so without it!
The adolescent exercise of pressing kisses the the envelope felt even more childish as I thought about that letter the night before it would be delivered to him. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks but didn't waste much care upon it, since there was no one to see it.
I knew that letter sat in the apartment Sephiroth shared with his two young lovers. If I had the "balls the size of a chocobo's head" that Zackary had often accused me of having, I would have slipped in and stolen my letter back, only to seal it away with the others. However, Sephiroth had just returned form his mission and I had no doubt that he and his lovers were celebrating that return in the way that all lovers should. Gaia knew, those three weren't exactly picky about where they went about their.. ah, mating after such a lengthy separation.
Without a doubt, I knew that the letter would be laid in Angeal's large hands on the morrow. Unfortunately, all of my doubts were tied up in his reaction to it. What would he do, knowing that his feelings weren't one-sided? Had he perhaps stopped loving me some time during this year?
Sick at heart, I reached for the familiar copy of "LOVELESS" –my favorite copy, in fact– and opened the pale volume. There, butting up to the spine of the book, was his letter to me. The paper was softer and a little more ragged, but I loved that letter. He wasn't the most eloquent man the Goddess had ever set on the face of Gaia, but be damned if it was the blunt and awkward words that were the ones to embed themselves upon my heart.
Lovingly, I unfolded the simple paper and rubbed one thumb against his falterings at the beginning. How like him, to have chosen such simple supplies and to send on such a simple draft!
I'd received thousands of letters from my 'fans' printed or embossed or hand-drawn in Wutian calligraphy on vellum or linen or other more expensive papers. Each one of them had contained all of the artful phrases and metaphors that I could have ever dreamed of receiving.
The paradox of the matter was that my heart was moved by the simplest of these: a single draft with things marked out, on plain paper, written with the plainest words. The others may have stroked my (admittedly very large) ego, but this –this grabbed my heart and captivated me. These were the words tattooed upon my soul.
On a whim, I retrieved my fully stocked calligraphy kit. It had been something I'd fallen in love with while I had been in Wutai and I had practiced everyday to have even a modicum of the skill that I'd seen displayed by various practitioners of the art form. I knew that some devoted their entire lives to this art, and I knew that my work looked like a child's scribbling next to the work of true masters of the art, but I'd learned Wutian calligraphy for myself and not anyone else. The brush-strokes had mesmerized me, along with the simplicity of the figures. It had enamored me that such a small thing could say so much.
I took a deep breath as I fiddled with my brush before opening my ink. What I was about to do... well, honestly, I hadn't done it since I was a child, though it seemed quite fitting that I would do such a childish thing one more for Angeal. Experimentally, I wrote a single word on my forearm and waited to see if the ink would dry –and just how long it took. Satisfied with my results, I bared my torso and stood in front of the mirror. Thank Shiva I knew more than rudimentary Wutian, or I would have to print it all in English across my skin!
It was a slow process, really: reading each sentence to myself, translating it to Wutian, and writing it slowly across my skin –backwards, so another could actually read it.
Still, I thought it quite worth it when I could read the body of his letter across my own body. Better yet, most would have no idea what the words that were giving me courage were.
Something inside of me wanted Angeal to know how much strength his words gave me. Instead, I snapped a picture of it with my phone's camera and and sent a text to the little cadet who had become such a good friend to us all.
"If I said I wanted to get this tattooed on me, what would you say?"
His reply came a bit latter, but was still appreciated.
"I know a great artist who can cut you a good deal. Tomorrow?"
Yeah... the last text messages were a bit of crack...
This is to explain why I mentioned on my lj that Genesis' balls are the size of chocobo heads... XD
Anywho! The next chapter should be the next day and from Angeal. Double the fun, no? XD
Any expectations for chapter 3? Anyone want to know what Genesis wrote on himself? Ask me! I'll get back to any reviewer ((:
Ever at your pleasure,
~Sins~
