A pleasant glow washes the roofs of houses and the tops of trees in a soft light, cutting the darkness with its dull blade. The desolate moon wraps her arms around the busy city, silently begging its people to go to sleep. Every building openly accepts her pale light. All accept one lonely complex that reaches toward the inky sky. Lonely and gray, it stands in a deep umbra of melancholy. All the drapes are drawn and the lights out - contributing to the building's state of depression.
[Standing by the window
Eyes upon the moon
Hoping that the memory
Will leave her spirit soon]
A figure, tall and slender, is seen in a window on the top floor. Long, spidery fingers remove themselves from the cool glass and cross his chest to hold onto his other arm.
The moon shines through the frosty windowpane and caresses his heart-shaped face, tracing the path of already shed tears.
He stares back at her smooth surface and gives her a secret smile from the bottom of his heart. His lips move, but no sound penetrates the silence. Ivory lids slide down, covering his violet eyes, and he leans back against the wall, gently pressing his head against the window. A hot tear sneaks from beneath his closed lashes and runs down his pale cheek.
He opens his eyes and sees a shooting star. Pushing off the wall, he leans against the window and makes a silent wish that only the moon could hear. He closes his eyes again and cries into the night air.
[She shuts the doors and lights and lays her body on the bed
Where images and words are running deep]
He growls at himself and pushes up off the window, walking across the room with a mission. He shuts the door and locks the many chains and bolts that keep him safe, flicking the light switch on his way to the bed that protrudes from the far wall. He stalks over to his sanctuary in the dark, ever much the animal searching for his prey. A lithe frame flops down on the queen-sized mattress. He squeezes his eyes shut, crushing his dark lashes, smearing them against the apples of his cheeks.
Memories of past years and events long ago haunt him as he lies there. A shiver runs up his spine and he curls into a ball, hugging his knees close to his chest.
[She has too much pride to pull the sheets above her head
So quietly she lays and waits for sleep]
His dignity won't allow him to seek help from his friends. This is his battle and he has to fight it alone. Soft, deep breathes move tranquilly in and out and, slowly, he uncurls and lies there, begging sleep to take him. He waits in agony as he counts each second that passes, absently coiling his auburn hair around his slim fingers.
[She stares at the ceiling
And tries not to think]
Ghostly hands dance across the ceiling, making pictures for the mind's eye to play with. Violet eyes dart from shadow to shadow, trying to stay occupied so his mind wouldn't wander. Thinking is the last thing he needs to be doing now.
[And pictures the chain
She's been trying to link again
But the feeling is gone]
Ivory lids close again and images of a lost love sway in the natural darkness of his mind. A subtle smile touches the corner off his peach lips and he reaches out to the man in his mind, but that picture is torn from his mind's eye and others replace it.
Images of a fresh grave and a new headstone; one without a name, just dates and an inscription: "The Angel With A Heart Of Stone". Crisp flowers lie next to the granite headstone that marked the final resting place of the indestructible - but dead - gundam pilot of Wing. Flowers of reds, oranges and yellows wilt as time speeds up in the darkness of the dream.
He tears his eyes open and lies there panting, clawing at the soft fabric beneath him for escape. The shadows on the ceiling taunt him, forming images of his recent attempts to join the dating community again. But his heart is not in, and each time he sees chocolate hair and cobalt eyes and winds up crying himself to sleep, alone in his own bed.
[And water can't cover her memories
And ashes can't answer her pain]
He thinks of the different things he has tried to remove the haunting images from his life. Across the ocean, he made a new home for himself, but that didn't last long and he ended up buying back his old apartment. He even tried burning the items he had kept so he could remember his comrade. Nothing worked and all left him more miserable then before.
A hushed whimper escapes his lips and as he blinks slowly, tears wash down his cheeks, disappearing in his loose auburn locks.
[God give me the power to take breath from a breeze
And call life from a cold metal frame]
Silent words are called out into the black velvet night, lost in the ripples of time and space, but their meaning rings through. He sits up, eyes still closed, and puts his hands together.
He prays, and the word "Shinigami" is just barely audible as it floats through the room on an eerie breeze. More words tumble from his mouth, jumbling together and twisting into a giant heap of pleas for mercy, request for power and gentle sobs.
The moon leans in to get a better look and something next to the praying man glints in her cool warmth, letting off a dangerous sheen of bright light. Worry creases her brow of smooth, pale flesh.
[In with the ashes
Or up with the smoke from the fire]
Dim blue light sparkles in the far corner, melting in with the shadows all too well, as if it had done this many times before. He doesn't seem to notice, instead he's gone from praying to chanting and is soon on his knees in the middle of a empty ocean of blackest that is too vast for one.
The sprinkle of light takes the form of a small man, an unruly mop of chocolate hair on his head and two icy cobalt eyes watching him chant. Wings of the purest white grace the man's back and it is obvious that he is from above.
Ivory lids slam open and reveal wide, scared, violet eyes full of built up sorrow and newfound release. A soft flutter catches his attention and his eyes dart across the room to the man in white who floats over to the end of the bed.
[With wings up in Heaven
Or here, lying in bed
Palm of her hand to my head]
The winged man came a moment to late, and violet eyes are slowly drained of all their sorrows and frustrations. Fear runs amuck in cobalt eyes and the man falls to his knees next to the youth, catching as he starts to fall backwards. Tears build up in the man's eyes and he sakes his head, murmuring something under his breath.
A weak smile tweaks peach lips and he uses all of his strength to lift his hand and cup the man's cheek. Love flashes wildly in his violet eyes and his mouth forms words he doesn't have the breath to create. The winged man leans in closer, placing his own hand over the others, rocking him gently. The man kisses him and he smiles before his eyes go dim, their bright light extinguished permanently, and his head lulls to the side.
[Now and forever curled in my heart
And the heart of the world]
The man in white weeps, cradling him, holding him close to his heart where he belongs and will always be. The rocking becomes more desperate and cries of agony ring through the small room, wrapping around the sparse furniture and engraving themselves in the walls and floor.
Hours go by and no change occurs from the man on the bed. His cries and sobs have subsided, and the rocking has desisted, but he continues to hold him. Slowly he stands, lifting his tortured soul out of its battered shell, and with puffy red eyes he looks toward home.
A flash of light and the winged man in white is gone, and all is peaceful. His body lies on the bed, a feeling of content painted on his cooling ivory skin. A serene smile hints at his peach lips and his fingers uncurl, dropping a small metal object that clatters to the ground.
Crimson licks at his flesh, expanding to the farthest edges of the bed, touching the smooth fabric of the sheets as it goes on its way, taking one last taste of its previous master before going on to oblivion.
The moon sinks below the horizon, smooth skin marred with tear tracks, and the sun stretches, completely out of the loop. One by one, people around the world wake and tune in to learn the news of the evening before that they missed due to sleep. Tears form in their eyes and they turn off their source of important information.
A candle is lit in each house for the passing of the gundam pilot 02, and they stay home to mourn the death of their beloved hero.
~owari~
4
[Standing by the window
Eyes upon the moon
Hoping that the memory
Will leave her spirit soon]
A figure, tall and slender, is seen in a window on the top floor. Long, spidery fingers remove themselves from the cool glass and cross his chest to hold onto his other arm.
The moon shines through the frosty windowpane and caresses his heart-shaped face, tracing the path of already shed tears.
He stares back at her smooth surface and gives her a secret smile from the bottom of his heart. His lips move, but no sound penetrates the silence. Ivory lids slide down, covering his violet eyes, and he leans back against the wall, gently pressing his head against the window. A hot tear sneaks from beneath his closed lashes and runs down his pale cheek.
He opens his eyes and sees a shooting star. Pushing off the wall, he leans against the window and makes a silent wish that only the moon could hear. He closes his eyes again and cries into the night air.
[She shuts the doors and lights and lays her body on the bed
Where images and words are running deep]
He growls at himself and pushes up off the window, walking across the room with a mission. He shuts the door and locks the many chains and bolts that keep him safe, flicking the light switch on his way to the bed that protrudes from the far wall. He stalks over to his sanctuary in the dark, ever much the animal searching for his prey. A lithe frame flops down on the queen-sized mattress. He squeezes his eyes shut, crushing his dark lashes, smearing them against the apples of his cheeks.
Memories of past years and events long ago haunt him as he lies there. A shiver runs up his spine and he curls into a ball, hugging his knees close to his chest.
[She has too much pride to pull the sheets above her head
So quietly she lays and waits for sleep]
His dignity won't allow him to seek help from his friends. This is his battle and he has to fight it alone. Soft, deep breathes move tranquilly in and out and, slowly, he uncurls and lies there, begging sleep to take him. He waits in agony as he counts each second that passes, absently coiling his auburn hair around his slim fingers.
[She stares at the ceiling
And tries not to think]
Ghostly hands dance across the ceiling, making pictures for the mind's eye to play with. Violet eyes dart from shadow to shadow, trying to stay occupied so his mind wouldn't wander. Thinking is the last thing he needs to be doing now.
[And pictures the chain
She's been trying to link again
But the feeling is gone]
Ivory lids close again and images of a lost love sway in the natural darkness of his mind. A subtle smile touches the corner off his peach lips and he reaches out to the man in his mind, but that picture is torn from his mind's eye and others replace it.
Images of a fresh grave and a new headstone; one without a name, just dates and an inscription: "The Angel With A Heart Of Stone". Crisp flowers lie next to the granite headstone that marked the final resting place of the indestructible - but dead - gundam pilot of Wing. Flowers of reds, oranges and yellows wilt as time speeds up in the darkness of the dream.
He tears his eyes open and lies there panting, clawing at the soft fabric beneath him for escape. The shadows on the ceiling taunt him, forming images of his recent attempts to join the dating community again. But his heart is not in, and each time he sees chocolate hair and cobalt eyes and winds up crying himself to sleep, alone in his own bed.
[And water can't cover her memories
And ashes can't answer her pain]
He thinks of the different things he has tried to remove the haunting images from his life. Across the ocean, he made a new home for himself, but that didn't last long and he ended up buying back his old apartment. He even tried burning the items he had kept so he could remember his comrade. Nothing worked and all left him more miserable then before.
A hushed whimper escapes his lips and as he blinks slowly, tears wash down his cheeks, disappearing in his loose auburn locks.
[God give me the power to take breath from a breeze
And call life from a cold metal frame]
Silent words are called out into the black velvet night, lost in the ripples of time and space, but their meaning rings through. He sits up, eyes still closed, and puts his hands together.
He prays, and the word "Shinigami" is just barely audible as it floats through the room on an eerie breeze. More words tumble from his mouth, jumbling together and twisting into a giant heap of pleas for mercy, request for power and gentle sobs.
The moon leans in to get a better look and something next to the praying man glints in her cool warmth, letting off a dangerous sheen of bright light. Worry creases her brow of smooth, pale flesh.
[In with the ashes
Or up with the smoke from the fire]
Dim blue light sparkles in the far corner, melting in with the shadows all too well, as if it had done this many times before. He doesn't seem to notice, instead he's gone from praying to chanting and is soon on his knees in the middle of a empty ocean of blackest that is too vast for one.
The sprinkle of light takes the form of a small man, an unruly mop of chocolate hair on his head and two icy cobalt eyes watching him chant. Wings of the purest white grace the man's back and it is obvious that he is from above.
Ivory lids slam open and reveal wide, scared, violet eyes full of built up sorrow and newfound release. A soft flutter catches his attention and his eyes dart across the room to the man in white who floats over to the end of the bed.
[With wings up in Heaven
Or here, lying in bed
Palm of her hand to my head]
The winged man came a moment to late, and violet eyes are slowly drained of all their sorrows and frustrations. Fear runs amuck in cobalt eyes and the man falls to his knees next to the youth, catching as he starts to fall backwards. Tears build up in the man's eyes and he sakes his head, murmuring something under his breath.
A weak smile tweaks peach lips and he uses all of his strength to lift his hand and cup the man's cheek. Love flashes wildly in his violet eyes and his mouth forms words he doesn't have the breath to create. The winged man leans in closer, placing his own hand over the others, rocking him gently. The man kisses him and he smiles before his eyes go dim, their bright light extinguished permanently, and his head lulls to the side.
[Now and forever curled in my heart
And the heart of the world]
The man in white weeps, cradling him, holding him close to his heart where he belongs and will always be. The rocking becomes more desperate and cries of agony ring through the small room, wrapping around the sparse furniture and engraving themselves in the walls and floor.
Hours go by and no change occurs from the man on the bed. His cries and sobs have subsided, and the rocking has desisted, but he continues to hold him. Slowly he stands, lifting his tortured soul out of its battered shell, and with puffy red eyes he looks toward home.
A flash of light and the winged man in white is gone, and all is peaceful. His body lies on the bed, a feeling of content painted on his cooling ivory skin. A serene smile hints at his peach lips and his fingers uncurl, dropping a small metal object that clatters to the ground.
Crimson licks at his flesh, expanding to the farthest edges of the bed, touching the smooth fabric of the sheets as it goes on its way, taking one last taste of its previous master before going on to oblivion.
The moon sinks below the horizon, smooth skin marred with tear tracks, and the sun stretches, completely out of the loop. One by one, people around the world wake and tune in to learn the news of the evening before that they missed due to sleep. Tears form in their eyes and they turn off their source of important information.
A candle is lit in each house for the passing of the gundam pilot 02, and they stay home to mourn the death of their beloved hero.
~owari~
4