Silence
Disclaimer: Song and Characters are on loan. Warning: This is something different. Comments? Shove 'em. I'm going to keep writing cause I can't develop characters of my own.
It was a dream. Or at least that's what he thought. He'd had so many dreams like this, so many nights lying in bed with the sheets around his legs while he dreamed of her. Sometimes she was as innocent as a child in the fields, with a flower for him; sometimes she was a white witch, casting a spell to hold him to her forever. There were nights where she came to him, the moonlight spilling across her milky flesh, giving it an unearthly glow and she would claim him. She tore at his resolve, tore away all the layers of armor his training had given him and made him a human being - vulnerable and exposed. She could take it all away with just a look, and send him crashing. It was getting harder and harder to tell what was a dream from what was reality. Nights and nights of watching her, protecting her, had taken its toll. His control was fleeting, his mind dulling. He found himself falling and yet he was standing perfectly still. Sometimes he would bite the mussel of his gun just to know the taste of steel, wake him up from his reverie. The cold taste of steel usually shot him back to earth.
//Give me release
Witness me
I am outside
Give me peace//
He'd wanted to end it all. He'd wanted to find out where the line crossed from reality into dream, whether or not her alabaster skin was as smooth as HE imagined it to be, or her flaxen hair as silky. He'd reached for her before, but couldn't recall the intimacy while awake. The cold was upon him again. He was outside, outside her window watching as he usually did. He rarely peeked into the light shining through the gauzy white curtain - he watched the nightfall and the sky glimmer under the waxing moon. Music. Where did that come from? He blinked. She was singing again, as she usually did when she brushed her hair in front of the mirror. His Angel of Peace. And he was angry.
//Heaven holds a sense of wonder
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up
When the rage in me subsides//
She was there, she was real. She was all around him, her skin hot and clammy under his palms. Her mouth was blazon, hotter than anything he'd ever felt on his cold skin. He cried out as she nipped - him not at the numbing pain but the shock. He held her down, pushed her deeper into the mattress. Beautiful. The only word he could use to describe the angel, but loud. Her song.her siren's song.she was crying out now, tears running down her face. She couldn't stop crying, his name was hoarse in her throat. He growled, couldn't focus with the crying. He felt her push against him again; pull him deeper into her heat so that every inch of his skin felt like it was on fire. A dream, he told himself. A dream. He had to make her crying stop. His hands found her silky throat, caressed the exposed flesh with calloused fingers clumsily before holding fast.
//Passion
Chokes the flower
Until she cries no more
Possessing all the beauty
Hungry still for more//
He cried out as his seed spilled into her body, but she squirmed against his strength, squirmed against his hold on her throat. He was hardening for her again, hardening under her muffled choking. He rode her harder, determined to end this need, this hunger that drove him to madness. A dream.to end the dreams. He would have her and get the taste of her out of his body. Purify himself of his hunger for the angel; let things return to the way they were before, before this.
//Heaven holds a sense of wonder
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up
When the rage in me subsides//
His final release was upon him. He let the waves roll over him, roll over her. Maybe now he could rest. He was just so tired.
//In this white wave
I am sinking
In this silence
In this white wave...
In this silence...//
Relena was oddly quiet now. No post-coital words were needed to soothe her. He gathered her in his arms, kissed her tear-stained cheeks. He wrapped the blankets over them; lay there staring at the ceiling. He had destroyed the need she had created, sated it. Perhaps now he could regain his sanity and remember the mission. Nothing was ever more important than the mission. Now he could rest without the angel in his dream, reminding him of his humanity. She was so beautiful when she slept.
//I believe I can't help this longing...
Comfort me I can't hold it all in...
If you won't let me...//
He stayed there for what seemed an eternity. Her body was cold now, despite the heat of the furnace blaring and the layers of blankets. He shook her gently yet she didn't rise. He was rough - but it had to be done. He showed her what it was to be with him, he showed her all he had to give. One night was all it would take, he recalled her saying. For release, he'd thought at the time.
//Heaven holds a sense of wonder
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up
When the rage in me subsides//
The fight was gone in the soldier, he knew it. Lying next to her cold, limp body, her eyes firmly shut and cheeks damp from her tears, he felt his body relax and settle. The dream didn't usually end this way. Maybe he was just too tired. Maybe it was time he went to sleep. Sometimes reality and dream were too close together for the line to be seen. He pulled the trigger. That usually ended the dream.
//In this white wave
I am sinking
In this silence
In this white wave...
In this silence...//
She was waiting for him there, singing through the curtains. He blinked twice, before escaping the night as he headed towards the light of her room.
//I believe I have seen you...
In this white wave
You are silent
You are breathing
In this white wave...//
The light exploded all around him and he smiled, honestly. There would be no need for the armor now.
//I am free//
//fin//
Murder/suicide. A new low brought to you by the Letter G, for Gin!
Disclaimer: Song and Characters are on loan. Warning: This is something different. Comments? Shove 'em. I'm going to keep writing cause I can't develop characters of my own.
It was a dream. Or at least that's what he thought. He'd had so many dreams like this, so many nights lying in bed with the sheets around his legs while he dreamed of her. Sometimes she was as innocent as a child in the fields, with a flower for him; sometimes she was a white witch, casting a spell to hold him to her forever. There were nights where she came to him, the moonlight spilling across her milky flesh, giving it an unearthly glow and she would claim him. She tore at his resolve, tore away all the layers of armor his training had given him and made him a human being - vulnerable and exposed. She could take it all away with just a look, and send him crashing. It was getting harder and harder to tell what was a dream from what was reality. Nights and nights of watching her, protecting her, had taken its toll. His control was fleeting, his mind dulling. He found himself falling and yet he was standing perfectly still. Sometimes he would bite the mussel of his gun just to know the taste of steel, wake him up from his reverie. The cold taste of steel usually shot him back to earth.
//Give me release
Witness me
I am outside
Give me peace//
He'd wanted to end it all. He'd wanted to find out where the line crossed from reality into dream, whether or not her alabaster skin was as smooth as HE imagined it to be, or her flaxen hair as silky. He'd reached for her before, but couldn't recall the intimacy while awake. The cold was upon him again. He was outside, outside her window watching as he usually did. He rarely peeked into the light shining through the gauzy white curtain - he watched the nightfall and the sky glimmer under the waxing moon. Music. Where did that come from? He blinked. She was singing again, as she usually did when she brushed her hair in front of the mirror. His Angel of Peace. And he was angry.
//Heaven holds a sense of wonder
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up
When the rage in me subsides//
She was there, she was real. She was all around him, her skin hot and clammy under his palms. Her mouth was blazon, hotter than anything he'd ever felt on his cold skin. He cried out as she nipped - him not at the numbing pain but the shock. He held her down, pushed her deeper into the mattress. Beautiful. The only word he could use to describe the angel, but loud. Her song.her siren's song.she was crying out now, tears running down her face. She couldn't stop crying, his name was hoarse in her throat. He growled, couldn't focus with the crying. He felt her push against him again; pull him deeper into her heat so that every inch of his skin felt like it was on fire. A dream, he told himself. A dream. He had to make her crying stop. His hands found her silky throat, caressed the exposed flesh with calloused fingers clumsily before holding fast.
//Passion
Chokes the flower
Until she cries no more
Possessing all the beauty
Hungry still for more//
He cried out as his seed spilled into her body, but she squirmed against his strength, squirmed against his hold on her throat. He was hardening for her again, hardening under her muffled choking. He rode her harder, determined to end this need, this hunger that drove him to madness. A dream.to end the dreams. He would have her and get the taste of her out of his body. Purify himself of his hunger for the angel; let things return to the way they were before, before this.
//Heaven holds a sense of wonder
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up
When the rage in me subsides//
His final release was upon him. He let the waves roll over him, roll over her. Maybe now he could rest. He was just so tired.
//In this white wave
I am sinking
In this silence
In this white wave...
In this silence...//
Relena was oddly quiet now. No post-coital words were needed to soothe her. He gathered her in his arms, kissed her tear-stained cheeks. He wrapped the blankets over them; lay there staring at the ceiling. He had destroyed the need she had created, sated it. Perhaps now he could regain his sanity and remember the mission. Nothing was ever more important than the mission. Now he could rest without the angel in his dream, reminding him of his humanity. She was so beautiful when she slept.
//I believe I can't help this longing...
Comfort me I can't hold it all in...
If you won't let me...//
He stayed there for what seemed an eternity. Her body was cold now, despite the heat of the furnace blaring and the layers of blankets. He shook her gently yet she didn't rise. He was rough - but it had to be done. He showed her what it was to be with him, he showed her all he had to give. One night was all it would take, he recalled her saying. For release, he'd thought at the time.
//Heaven holds a sense of wonder
And I wanted to believe that I'd get caught up
When the rage in me subsides//
The fight was gone in the soldier, he knew it. Lying next to her cold, limp body, her eyes firmly shut and cheeks damp from her tears, he felt his body relax and settle. The dream didn't usually end this way. Maybe he was just too tired. Maybe it was time he went to sleep. Sometimes reality and dream were too close together for the line to be seen. He pulled the trigger. That usually ended the dream.
//In this white wave
I am sinking
In this silence
In this white wave...
In this silence...//
She was waiting for him there, singing through the curtains. He blinked twice, before escaping the night as he headed towards the light of her room.
//I believe I have seen you...
In this white wave
You are silent
You are breathing
In this white wave...//
The light exploded all around him and he smiled, honestly. There would be no need for the armor now.
//I am free//
//fin//
Murder/suicide. A new low brought to you by the Letter G, for Gin!