Title: The Gift, Chapter 5
By Dragoni
Warning: Yaoi alert! That's Boy/Boy love. Not your thing? Don't read it. But don't flame me, either.
Disclaimers: I don't own the Ronin Warriors - I'm just playing with them a little bit. This is fanfiction, I did not make any money off it. (Believe me there!) The only thing that's mine is the idea for the story.
[Sage]
Only one notebook left in the stack. It's a thick book, with a deep navy, almost black cover. The cover has been crushed, the only indication of its age. I should have guessed... it just screams of the night sky's secrets. I run my hand over it, memorizing every detail, trying to gather the nerve to open it.
I finally force my fingers to between the fragile sheets inside. His impeccably slanted script peeks out at me from between the pages. So much writing... this is definitely the journal. It has to be. There's no math notes in it.
I let out a breath I didn't know I held, to reclose it and hastily shove the other books into their customary mess. He won't be able to tell the difference. I hope. I take my treasure over to my bed and begin flipping the pages, scanning for clues to his dreams.
[Cye]
A loud sound from the porch draws my attention from Kento's antics. A quick glance out the window confirms my suspicion. Rowen's back. He's trying to be quiet, though. Trying to avoid me.
I absentmindedly smack Kento's hand away from the pot simmering on the stove, ignoring his yelp of pain and half-coherent excuses. I wish I could talk to Rowen, to explain... what? No, he doesn't need an explanation. But what he does need... space... I don't know if I can give it to him.
I see Kento's hand inching its way toward the pot again. With a heavy sigh, I shove my other worries out of mind, at least for now. There'll be time later. I'll talk to him after dinner.
[Sage]
Most of the book seems to be devoted to everyday life, the survival after the Youja invasion. A few poems scatter through the pages. A few that he wrote, though most seem to be favorite writings he has stumbled across in his studies.
A particularly interesting passage catches my eye, decorated with doodles of swirls and stars. None of the others have such illustration. It's dated almost six months ago, the day we got together. I try to force myself to read the entry, but I cannot. It seems too private.
Instead, I skim down to the poem that lies in the middle of the page. I recognize it as soon as I begin. It's by O'Reilly, I think. I had to read it once in some textbook.
The red rose whispers of passion
And the white rose breathes of love
O, the red rose is a falcon
And the white rose is a dove
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on its lips
The sentiment is perfect... I swirl the thought around a few times in my head. It could be just the perfect--
"What do you think you're doing?"
Too late, I register the sound of the door swinging open. His cold voice strikes me instantly, almost painfully demanding an explanation. I look up to his irate sapphire eyes and open my mouth for some response, one that dies without ever passing my lips. What can I tell him? I shouldn't have given in to the temptation. Damn Kento for giving me the idea.
Damn me for acting on it.
His eyes narrow as he realizes I have no explanation. I open my mouth again, to apologize, to make it right somehow. He beats me to it.
"I thought you understood." It's not a statement, but an accusation. "You lied."
I wince at this, but he's right. I always said I'd respect his boundaries, his privacy. Heaven help me, he's right. I nod and my eyes fall to my hands, still clutching the journal. I close it silently, crossing the room to place it on his bed. I can feel tears of shame sting at the corner of my eyes as I study the floorboards, waiting for his judgment. What was I *thinking*?
[Rowen]
"Look at me, Sage." I can't hide the catch in my voice. I don't know that I want to. All I know is that my lover, my partner, the person I'm closest to... betrayed me, lied to me.
Today is just *not* my fucking day.
I can feel liquid fire slowly creep down my face. He steps forward, his hand raised to brush it away. I recoil as if it's a serpent. I don't need his comfort.
I see the hurt look on his face. His beautiful eyes are shadowed with pained guilt. The expression strikes me to the core. I hate myself for hurting him like this. I want to take him in my arms, to forgive him and make everything right again.
But I can't. It takes every ounce of nerve that I possess, but I back away from him.
"Get out." The words are barely whispered, but I know he heard. His face falls as he bows slightly and obeys. I slam the door in his wake, sliding down its smooth surface to crumple at the bottom. The tears I tried to hide flow freely now, and I cry myself into oblivion.
To Be Continued...
By Dragoni
Warning: Yaoi alert! That's Boy/Boy love. Not your thing? Don't read it. But don't flame me, either.
Disclaimers: I don't own the Ronin Warriors - I'm just playing with them a little bit. This is fanfiction, I did not make any money off it. (Believe me there!) The only thing that's mine is the idea for the story.
[Sage]
Only one notebook left in the stack. It's a thick book, with a deep navy, almost black cover. The cover has been crushed, the only indication of its age. I should have guessed... it just screams of the night sky's secrets. I run my hand over it, memorizing every detail, trying to gather the nerve to open it.
I finally force my fingers to between the fragile sheets inside. His impeccably slanted script peeks out at me from between the pages. So much writing... this is definitely the journal. It has to be. There's no math notes in it.
I let out a breath I didn't know I held, to reclose it and hastily shove the other books into their customary mess. He won't be able to tell the difference. I hope. I take my treasure over to my bed and begin flipping the pages, scanning for clues to his dreams.
[Cye]
A loud sound from the porch draws my attention from Kento's antics. A quick glance out the window confirms my suspicion. Rowen's back. He's trying to be quiet, though. Trying to avoid me.
I absentmindedly smack Kento's hand away from the pot simmering on the stove, ignoring his yelp of pain and half-coherent excuses. I wish I could talk to Rowen, to explain... what? No, he doesn't need an explanation. But what he does need... space... I don't know if I can give it to him.
I see Kento's hand inching its way toward the pot again. With a heavy sigh, I shove my other worries out of mind, at least for now. There'll be time later. I'll talk to him after dinner.
[Sage]
Most of the book seems to be devoted to everyday life, the survival after the Youja invasion. A few poems scatter through the pages. A few that he wrote, though most seem to be favorite writings he has stumbled across in his studies.
A particularly interesting passage catches my eye, decorated with doodles of swirls and stars. None of the others have such illustration. It's dated almost six months ago, the day we got together. I try to force myself to read the entry, but I cannot. It seems too private.
Instead, I skim down to the poem that lies in the middle of the page. I recognize it as soon as I begin. It's by O'Reilly, I think. I had to read it once in some textbook.
The red rose whispers of passion
And the white rose breathes of love
O, the red rose is a falcon
And the white rose is a dove
But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on its lips
The sentiment is perfect... I swirl the thought around a few times in my head. It could be just the perfect--
"What do you think you're doing?"
Too late, I register the sound of the door swinging open. His cold voice strikes me instantly, almost painfully demanding an explanation. I look up to his irate sapphire eyes and open my mouth for some response, one that dies without ever passing my lips. What can I tell him? I shouldn't have given in to the temptation. Damn Kento for giving me the idea.
Damn me for acting on it.
His eyes narrow as he realizes I have no explanation. I open my mouth again, to apologize, to make it right somehow. He beats me to it.
"I thought you understood." It's not a statement, but an accusation. "You lied."
I wince at this, but he's right. I always said I'd respect his boundaries, his privacy. Heaven help me, he's right. I nod and my eyes fall to my hands, still clutching the journal. I close it silently, crossing the room to place it on his bed. I can feel tears of shame sting at the corner of my eyes as I study the floorboards, waiting for his judgment. What was I *thinking*?
[Rowen]
"Look at me, Sage." I can't hide the catch in my voice. I don't know that I want to. All I know is that my lover, my partner, the person I'm closest to... betrayed me, lied to me.
Today is just *not* my fucking day.
I can feel liquid fire slowly creep down my face. He steps forward, his hand raised to brush it away. I recoil as if it's a serpent. I don't need his comfort.
I see the hurt look on his face. His beautiful eyes are shadowed with pained guilt. The expression strikes me to the core. I hate myself for hurting him like this. I want to take him in my arms, to forgive him and make everything right again.
But I can't. It takes every ounce of nerve that I possess, but I back away from him.
"Get out." The words are barely whispered, but I know he heard. His face falls as he bows slightly and obeys. I slam the door in his wake, sliding down its smooth surface to crumple at the bottom. The tears I tried to hide flow freely now, and I cry myself into oblivion.
To Be Continued...