"Rain" - continued from part II
~ ~ ~
[Push the door, I'm home at last and I'm soaking through and through
Then you handed me a towel and all I see is you
And even if my house falls down now, I wouldn't have a clue
Because you're near me ]
They were painful sobs. They ripped through his lungs, weighed heavily against the back of his throat, made it hard to breathe...and, the tears. They streaked in hot, angry lines down his cheeks, dropped in stinging puddles onto his fingers, his palms, the soft sheets of his bed.
He'd had long years of practice at crying silently, at keeping the sobs welled up in his throat, of releasing them in soundless gasps against the soft cover of his pillow...but, there was no controlling this. The tears rained down with unspeakable fury, streaked over his body until every limb was stiffened and contorted in the effort of fighting the sobs, until he began to question whether or not he was actually still awake...if maybe this wasn't some strange, violent dream...gods, he wished it was.
He hadn't bothered to dress himself yet, had stepped into the fragrant solace of his room, closed the door...and rushed forward, collapsed onto his bed, and succumbed to the weary, pained sobs. Now, he lay facedown on the bed, his cheeks pressed into the cool, tear-stained satin of the pillow, shaking and clutching at the edge of the bed with tensed, white-knuckled fingers. The blanket he'd taken with him from Hotohori's chambers lay bunched and twisted at his waist, part of it hanging limply over the side of the bed, exposing the gentle curve of his back, the slim, pale lengths of his legs.
How did he always manage to get himself into these things? What a mess...gods, what a mess...
And, now that the grief ran freely from his eyes, his lips...the memories began to trudge their way to the surface, too, to wash over him in painful, darkened waves until he pressed his face more tightly into the pillow, felt the breath hanging in his lungs and wished just that he could end the pain...gods, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. Because, it wasn't even about Hotohori anymore...it was about Korin...and about the life he led for her, the life he was now losing all grips on...the life that was slipping from his fingers, tumbling away...
//If I stop being you...does that mean you're really gone, Korin?\\
That thought only sent him spinning over the edge of the tears again, and Nuriko collapsed back onto the pillow, squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the storm to end.
---
Nuriko's room was oddly silent. Hotohori stood just outside on the palace walkway, one slim hand poised hesitantly above the door, and spent a long moment doing nothing more than frowning and listening...frowning some more and listening some more. There was no sound from within, and not even the soft rustle of movement, breath, life... He didn't know why, but the sudden overbearing silence scared him, and scared him deeply. Of course, Nuriko wasn't the kind of wo--err, man to even think about doing that sort of thing...but, gods...he'd been hurt, emotionally as well as physically, and was probably very tired...what if...what if...
The breath caught in his lungs. //What if it's so quiet in there because Nuriko's...dead?\\
Suddenly feeling his heart clenching in anguish and fear, Hotohori grabbed onto the knob of the door, shoved it forwards with all his strength, and stepped hurriedly into the darkened interior. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, no sound but the rhythmic patter of the rain tapping against the roof to break the suffocating silence...gods, what if he really was...was...?
Gods...gods...he would never forgive himself...
He glanced quickly from one side of the room to the other, straining to see clearly through the darkness...where was he...where was he... He stopped, frozen and fearful, as he caught a glimpse of a very still form lying lifelessly on the bed, one slim arm drooping limply over the edge...
"Nuriko!" he breathed, rushing forward, kneeling down beside the bed and struggling to see what had happened...if Nuriko was all right...if he was alive...if there was still time to save him...if he was...if he was...sleeping?
Hotohori knelt there for a long moment, staring wide-eyed at the pale, smooth skin of Nuriko's back rising and falling in gentle rhythm to his soft breathing, at the side of his face visible against the satiny puffs of the pillowcase. His features were smoothed in sleep, his lips slightly parted to make way for the soft, gentle whispers of breath.
He was asleep. Not dead...not in trouble...not trying to commit suicide just because the emperor of Konan had rejected him...SLEEPING.
Hotohori lowered his head, let out a soft sigh of relief. "Sleeping," he mused softly, a slim smile tugging at his lips. "Thank God."
He tensed his muscles, then, preparing to rise to his feet, leave Nuriko alone to his recovery...but stopped, just before rising, and gazed down at the young seishi. The room was very dimly lit, and the world beyond the far window shadowed and darkened with the presence of the rain...but, there was enough light for him to make out the loose, wild tufts of Nuriko's hair, hanging in a mass of darkened tangles over his shoulders, spreading over the sheets like a small pool of rich, silken violet. He realized, also, that Nuriko hadn't bothered to dress himself, was lying with nothing more than the barest of blankets covering him from the waist to the middle of his thighs, leaving more exposed than was safe for the young seishi...
Gods, if one of his maids walked in...or if ANYONE walked in, for that matter...they would know. Nuriko's secret would be lost, and all because he'd been too tired to cover himself...
Hotohori frowned slightly. But, what could he do? Nuriko slept so peacefully, perhaps the only comfortable sleep he'd had in weeks...and, there was no way he could find some way of dressing him or even just slip a robe over his body without jarring him, waking him up. And, someone was bound to come in tomorrow morning before Nuriko awoke...he couldn't let that happen. After all, Nuriko's injury was partly his fault, wasn't it? Hai. So...he would just...stay here, keep watch on things...make sure Nuriko's secret remained untouched and unjeopardized. It was the least he could do, after the grief he'd caused...the least he could do after practically sending Nuriko running half-naked out into the rain...hai. He would stay.
On impulse, Hotohori rose to his feet, bent briefly over the bed, and took the soft fabric of the sheets into his fingers. A moment later, he'd spread the sheets more fully over Nuriko's thin, sleeping body, had dragged the edge of the sheet to the boy's chin and tucked the other sides securely beneath the mattress.
As he took a short step back, Nuriko shifted in his sleep, let out a low, soft sigh of air through parted lips...but, he looked more comfortable now, more at peace. Hotohori smiled soflty. Good. Gathering his robes together and positioning himself on the floor just in front of the door, the young emperor cast Nuriko one last, searching look...then, leaned his back against the wall and settled in to wait for morning.
After awhile, despite his best efforts, he fell asleep, lay curled up over his robes on the floor, the soft chestnut waves of his hair washing over his face and shoulders, creating its own silken pool on the hard, well-polished wood of the floorboards.
Despite the uncomfortable hardness beneath his head and back...Hotohori had never slept so well in his life.
---
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Gomen, gomen. I'm weary, it's almost 3 AM, and this chapter isn't the most coherent thing in the world. Ah, but I'll fix it someday when I'm feeling less like I'm about to collapse onto my keyboard, and then all will be well. *firm nod*
~ ~ ~
[Push the door, I'm home at last and I'm soaking through and through
Then you handed me a towel and all I see is you
And even if my house falls down now, I wouldn't have a clue
Because you're near me ]
They were painful sobs. They ripped through his lungs, weighed heavily against the back of his throat, made it hard to breathe...and, the tears. They streaked in hot, angry lines down his cheeks, dropped in stinging puddles onto his fingers, his palms, the soft sheets of his bed.
He'd had long years of practice at crying silently, at keeping the sobs welled up in his throat, of releasing them in soundless gasps against the soft cover of his pillow...but, there was no controlling this. The tears rained down with unspeakable fury, streaked over his body until every limb was stiffened and contorted in the effort of fighting the sobs, until he began to question whether or not he was actually still awake...if maybe this wasn't some strange, violent dream...gods, he wished it was.
He hadn't bothered to dress himself yet, had stepped into the fragrant solace of his room, closed the door...and rushed forward, collapsed onto his bed, and succumbed to the weary, pained sobs. Now, he lay facedown on the bed, his cheeks pressed into the cool, tear-stained satin of the pillow, shaking and clutching at the edge of the bed with tensed, white-knuckled fingers. The blanket he'd taken with him from Hotohori's chambers lay bunched and twisted at his waist, part of it hanging limply over the side of the bed, exposing the gentle curve of his back, the slim, pale lengths of his legs.
How did he always manage to get himself into these things? What a mess...gods, what a mess...
And, now that the grief ran freely from his eyes, his lips...the memories began to trudge their way to the surface, too, to wash over him in painful, darkened waves until he pressed his face more tightly into the pillow, felt the breath hanging in his lungs and wished just that he could end the pain...gods, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. Because, it wasn't even about Hotohori anymore...it was about Korin...and about the life he led for her, the life he was now losing all grips on...the life that was slipping from his fingers, tumbling away...
//If I stop being you...does that mean you're really gone, Korin?\\
That thought only sent him spinning over the edge of the tears again, and Nuriko collapsed back onto the pillow, squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the storm to end.
---
Nuriko's room was oddly silent. Hotohori stood just outside on the palace walkway, one slim hand poised hesitantly above the door, and spent a long moment doing nothing more than frowning and listening...frowning some more and listening some more. There was no sound from within, and not even the soft rustle of movement, breath, life... He didn't know why, but the sudden overbearing silence scared him, and scared him deeply. Of course, Nuriko wasn't the kind of wo--err, man to even think about doing that sort of thing...but, gods...he'd been hurt, emotionally as well as physically, and was probably very tired...what if...what if...
The breath caught in his lungs. //What if it's so quiet in there because Nuriko's...dead?\\
Suddenly feeling his heart clenching in anguish and fear, Hotohori grabbed onto the knob of the door, shoved it forwards with all his strength, and stepped hurriedly into the darkened interior. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, no sound but the rhythmic patter of the rain tapping against the roof to break the suffocating silence...gods, what if he really was...was...?
Gods...gods...he would never forgive himself...
He glanced quickly from one side of the room to the other, straining to see clearly through the darkness...where was he...where was he... He stopped, frozen and fearful, as he caught a glimpse of a very still form lying lifelessly on the bed, one slim arm drooping limply over the edge...
"Nuriko!" he breathed, rushing forward, kneeling down beside the bed and struggling to see what had happened...if Nuriko was all right...if he was alive...if there was still time to save him...if he was...if he was...sleeping?
Hotohori knelt there for a long moment, staring wide-eyed at the pale, smooth skin of Nuriko's back rising and falling in gentle rhythm to his soft breathing, at the side of his face visible against the satiny puffs of the pillowcase. His features were smoothed in sleep, his lips slightly parted to make way for the soft, gentle whispers of breath.
He was asleep. Not dead...not in trouble...not trying to commit suicide just because the emperor of Konan had rejected him...SLEEPING.
Hotohori lowered his head, let out a soft sigh of relief. "Sleeping," he mused softly, a slim smile tugging at his lips. "Thank God."
He tensed his muscles, then, preparing to rise to his feet, leave Nuriko alone to his recovery...but stopped, just before rising, and gazed down at the young seishi. The room was very dimly lit, and the world beyond the far window shadowed and darkened with the presence of the rain...but, there was enough light for him to make out the loose, wild tufts of Nuriko's hair, hanging in a mass of darkened tangles over his shoulders, spreading over the sheets like a small pool of rich, silken violet. He realized, also, that Nuriko hadn't bothered to dress himself, was lying with nothing more than the barest of blankets covering him from the waist to the middle of his thighs, leaving more exposed than was safe for the young seishi...
Gods, if one of his maids walked in...or if ANYONE walked in, for that matter...they would know. Nuriko's secret would be lost, and all because he'd been too tired to cover himself...
Hotohori frowned slightly. But, what could he do? Nuriko slept so peacefully, perhaps the only comfortable sleep he'd had in weeks...and, there was no way he could find some way of dressing him or even just slip a robe over his body without jarring him, waking him up. And, someone was bound to come in tomorrow morning before Nuriko awoke...he couldn't let that happen. After all, Nuriko's injury was partly his fault, wasn't it? Hai. So...he would just...stay here, keep watch on things...make sure Nuriko's secret remained untouched and unjeopardized. It was the least he could do, after the grief he'd caused...the least he could do after practically sending Nuriko running half-naked out into the rain...hai. He would stay.
On impulse, Hotohori rose to his feet, bent briefly over the bed, and took the soft fabric of the sheets into his fingers. A moment later, he'd spread the sheets more fully over Nuriko's thin, sleeping body, had dragged the edge of the sheet to the boy's chin and tucked the other sides securely beneath the mattress.
As he took a short step back, Nuriko shifted in his sleep, let out a low, soft sigh of air through parted lips...but, he looked more comfortable now, more at peace. Hotohori smiled soflty. Good. Gathering his robes together and positioning himself on the floor just in front of the door, the young emperor cast Nuriko one last, searching look...then, leaned his back against the wall and settled in to wait for morning.
After awhile, despite his best efforts, he fell asleep, lay curled up over his robes on the floor, the soft chestnut waves of his hair washing over his face and shoulders, creating its own silken pool on the hard, well-polished wood of the floorboards.
Despite the uncomfortable hardness beneath his head and back...Hotohori had never slept so well in his life.
---
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Gomen, gomen. I'm weary, it's almost 3 AM, and this chapter isn't the most coherent thing in the world. Ah, but I'll fix it someday when I'm feeling less like I'm about to collapse onto my keyboard, and then all will be well. *firm nod*