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10/03/AC 197 [ rejection ]
the surreal hues of an artificial dawn, the persistent repetition, of waking alone. a solitary existence over a prolonged period is trifling. as i faltered through my ritualistic morning practices, that single thought loomed over my head, slowly interlacing deeper. descending those steps. my binder and text books omitted from my possession, as i maneuvered through the mesh of bodies. the mechanical percussion of my steps, on the impregnate side walk, no coercion from my languor or the deficient of warmth for my body. the distinct pallor of skin, a product of the scanty gusts. the wind guiding my hair into my eyes. i ceased motion, people filtering to the sides of me. ahead of me, that place, those people. to the right, him. the colors transgressing, soft blues and blush of pink, shifting to a fluid orange. my free hand balled as my side. i turned, and proceeded to the right.
more stairs. the twenty seventh door, i was on the verge of his refuge. and i had to keep reminding myself to breathe. no lights were on. there is no one home. the tension alleviated, i smiled knowing i would see him there today. my hand clasping the steel door knob, feeling its frigidity. i timidly nudged open the door, the light piercing the obscurity within those walls. uninvited, his home, messy as it was it was like a womb to me. my first footfalls were meticulously gentle, practically inaudible. i stood over the coffee table, he had moved them from the floor. his fingers had pressed on those masses, i knew i would cherish them only for that reason. i scrupled over the fact that i had to touch them, corrupting his lingering aura of those books. i grabbed them, and hugged them to my chest. my slender fingers clenching on to the edges. i looked at the place once more, already hating the fact i had to vacant. as i turned, i heard a stirring. i stopped, my head sharply angling. i deciphered erratic breathing, a shiver washed over my spine.
"run away." a weak voice mustered. duo. he was there. the cold, it lashed out and turned my blood to ice. i stood there bewildered, i was breathing heavily. "run away". those words again, more harsh, more distress. my limbs incapable of functioning. "go ahead. run away". the words, stabbing me. i could do nothing but silently question my intentions of coming here.
"go!" he demanded. i grimaced, leaving my eyes shut. my mouth slightly ajar. i could feel the rapid acceleration of my pulse. "get out!" he screamed, voice cracking under the sheer amount of emotion he was trying to release. heero leave. you are making him suffer. leave. how could you do this. leave now. i cautiously closed the door behind me.
the wind roused, caressing my features. i did not move. the day grew older, i simply stood there. finally succumbing to my aching legs, sitting on the ground, my back against his door. the items in which i originally came for, sliding off my lap. it was an excuse, was it not. the air, the cool temperatures fading, the warmth of the light pressing upon my face. my eyes were downcast, i slightly moved my fingers, to assure myself i was still alive. i wanted him to find me, i wanted him to kill me. it was only an hour ago. nothing has sunk in. why did i have to worry how he felt, he saw out me. he threw my life of course. there is no one home, for me. what life? i want to. i cannot handle this. i grieve for you. i remain motionless. i surrendered.
i stood, and faced my plight. deathly afraid. nothing had changed, excepted the time that has lapsed. i shut myself in, locking each other in that confided space. i heard rhythmic breathing, unaltered from when i entered. he was asleep. so vulnerable i thought. i slide the books from my grasp, and onto the counter. sheepishly moving towards the couch. his socked feet now protruding behind the solid mass, another step revealed his calves, another his slim bare legs. i stood above him, only clad is boxer style underwear and a tanktop, rolled up, not concealing the majority of his mid drift. strands of hair disseminated. my stomach heaved, this was wrong. he does not want you here. i could not look away. i acquired an acute taste for every detail. which lead me to something amiss.
tried blood. droplets imbuing his tank top. the source. a dish rag loosening around his hand, it's fabric virtually soaked. my heart bleed. i knelt down before him, my hands cradling his wounded one. excessively being cautious, i peeled away the soiled piece of material. and lead it to rest on his chest. i could not leave him on the floor. if i could carry him to his bed ... and then tend to his wound.
my i pressed the backs of my hands firmly to the carpet. and slide them directly forward, under the middle of his chest and under the joints of his legs. i made sure i was confident he was secure before i attempted to rise with him. his locks of hair pulling from the carpet. i brought the bulk of his body as close to mine, as much as i possibly could. through my lament i was ruefully relishing in every moment, the cross on his neck shifting with every stride. i was too busy concentrating on every step to see the slothful hand snake up, and smoothly trail down my features. i froze. he did the opposite and begin to squirm in my arms, hands clawing upward, aimlessly, legs kicking in protest. gravity was shifting, he desperately clung on to me to avoid the fall, we fell as one.
the mass of my body burying his. my head landed on his chest. his warmth. i did not want to move. he was vocalizing struggle. unmistakable sound i was hearing. i finally, altered my position, my palms flat on each side of his shoulder, my face over his, i could feel his breath hit my features. it caused my body to convulse, our eyes were locked. the vision in my head. i had the intentions of moving, but my body paid no heed. the look in your eyes, the look in your face like ... sweet revelation, sweet surrendering. he crawled out from under me, i missed his warmth instantly. he sat with his back against the wall. i brought my legs up from behind, and sat on them, folded. i stared at him, a moment before he retaliated with the same gesture. he face distorted, eyes harden. "come back to torment me?" his question blaming me. i flinched, again so crestfallen. my eyes fixated on the carpet. i have been over this before, and the same conclusion before. "i am sorry." i stated, more offered, pathetically unable to look at him. so over this.
"what was that?" he callously inquired. if that is what he wanted, so be it. i succumbed. i angled my head upwards, gazes colliding for a moment before my lips formed words.
"i am sorry." more lucid. increased volume. he did not care. it was my fault ... silence ensued. nothing from him. foolish, heero. i stood, drew near him, and bid him a farewell of some sort. still nothing. i tried. i did. and it brought me nothing. i should not expect anything from him. i just hope i will not end up hating him for it. someone, show me the way to forgive him ...
commence [ 10:52 p.m. ]
10/03/AC 197 [ rejection ]
the surreal hues of an artificial dawn, the persistent repetition, of waking alone. a solitary existence over a prolonged period is trifling. as i faltered through my ritualistic morning practices, that single thought loomed over my head, slowly interlacing deeper. descending those steps. my binder and text books omitted from my possession, as i maneuvered through the mesh of bodies. the mechanical percussion of my steps, on the impregnate side walk, no coercion from my languor or the deficient of warmth for my body. the distinct pallor of skin, a product of the scanty gusts. the wind guiding my hair into my eyes. i ceased motion, people filtering to the sides of me. ahead of me, that place, those people. to the right, him. the colors transgressing, soft blues and blush of pink, shifting to a fluid orange. my free hand balled as my side. i turned, and proceeded to the right.
more stairs. the twenty seventh door, i was on the verge of his refuge. and i had to keep reminding myself to breathe. no lights were on. there is no one home. the tension alleviated, i smiled knowing i would see him there today. my hand clasping the steel door knob, feeling its frigidity. i timidly nudged open the door, the light piercing the obscurity within those walls. uninvited, his home, messy as it was it was like a womb to me. my first footfalls were meticulously gentle, practically inaudible. i stood over the coffee table, he had moved them from the floor. his fingers had pressed on those masses, i knew i would cherish them only for that reason. i scrupled over the fact that i had to touch them, corrupting his lingering aura of those books. i grabbed them, and hugged them to my chest. my slender fingers clenching on to the edges. i looked at the place once more, already hating the fact i had to vacant. as i turned, i heard a stirring. i stopped, my head sharply angling. i deciphered erratic breathing, a shiver washed over my spine.
"run away." a weak voice mustered. duo. he was there. the cold, it lashed out and turned my blood to ice. i stood there bewildered, i was breathing heavily. "run away". those words again, more harsh, more distress. my limbs incapable of functioning. "go ahead. run away". the words, stabbing me. i could do nothing but silently question my intentions of coming here.
"go!" he demanded. i grimaced, leaving my eyes shut. my mouth slightly ajar. i could feel the rapid acceleration of my pulse. "get out!" he screamed, voice cracking under the sheer amount of emotion he was trying to release. heero leave. you are making him suffer. leave. how could you do this. leave now. i cautiously closed the door behind me.
the wind roused, caressing my features. i did not move. the day grew older, i simply stood there. finally succumbing to my aching legs, sitting on the ground, my back against his door. the items in which i originally came for, sliding off my lap. it was an excuse, was it not. the air, the cool temperatures fading, the warmth of the light pressing upon my face. my eyes were downcast, i slightly moved my fingers, to assure myself i was still alive. i wanted him to find me, i wanted him to kill me. it was only an hour ago. nothing has sunk in. why did i have to worry how he felt, he saw out me. he threw my life of course. there is no one home, for me. what life? i want to. i cannot handle this. i grieve for you. i remain motionless. i surrendered.
i stood, and faced my plight. deathly afraid. nothing had changed, excepted the time that has lapsed. i shut myself in, locking each other in that confided space. i heard rhythmic breathing, unaltered from when i entered. he was asleep. so vulnerable i thought. i slide the books from my grasp, and onto the counter. sheepishly moving towards the couch. his socked feet now protruding behind the solid mass, another step revealed his calves, another his slim bare legs. i stood above him, only clad is boxer style underwear and a tanktop, rolled up, not concealing the majority of his mid drift. strands of hair disseminated. my stomach heaved, this was wrong. he does not want you here. i could not look away. i acquired an acute taste for every detail. which lead me to something amiss.
tried blood. droplets imbuing his tank top. the source. a dish rag loosening around his hand, it's fabric virtually soaked. my heart bleed. i knelt down before him, my hands cradling his wounded one. excessively being cautious, i peeled away the soiled piece of material. and lead it to rest on his chest. i could not leave him on the floor. if i could carry him to his bed ... and then tend to his wound.
my i pressed the backs of my hands firmly to the carpet. and slide them directly forward, under the middle of his chest and under the joints of his legs. i made sure i was confident he was secure before i attempted to rise with him. his locks of hair pulling from the carpet. i brought the bulk of his body as close to mine, as much as i possibly could. through my lament i was ruefully relishing in every moment, the cross on his neck shifting with every stride. i was too busy concentrating on every step to see the slothful hand snake up, and smoothly trail down my features. i froze. he did the opposite and begin to squirm in my arms, hands clawing upward, aimlessly, legs kicking in protest. gravity was shifting, he desperately clung on to me to avoid the fall, we fell as one.
the mass of my body burying his. my head landed on his chest. his warmth. i did not want to move. he was vocalizing struggle. unmistakable sound i was hearing. i finally, altered my position, my palms flat on each side of his shoulder, my face over his, i could feel his breath hit my features. it caused my body to convulse, our eyes were locked. the vision in my head. i had the intentions of moving, but my body paid no heed. the look in your eyes, the look in your face like ... sweet revelation, sweet surrendering. he crawled out from under me, i missed his warmth instantly. he sat with his back against the wall. i brought my legs up from behind, and sat on them, folded. i stared at him, a moment before he retaliated with the same gesture. he face distorted, eyes harden. "come back to torment me?" his question blaming me. i flinched, again so crestfallen. my eyes fixated on the carpet. i have been over this before, and the same conclusion before. "i am sorry." i stated, more offered, pathetically unable to look at him. so over this.
"what was that?" he callously inquired. if that is what he wanted, so be it. i succumbed. i angled my head upwards, gazes colliding for a moment before my lips formed words.
"i am sorry." more lucid. increased volume. he did not care. it was my fault ... silence ensued. nothing from him. foolish, heero. i stood, drew near him, and bid him a farewell of some sort. still nothing. i tried. i did. and it brought me nothing. i should not expect anything from him. i just hope i will not end up hating him for it. someone, show me the way to forgive him ...
commence [ 10:52 p.m. ]