And he Said Dance
By Furui
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. I own none of the places. Hell, I don't even own the title. Damnit.
Warning: AU. Shonen Ai and limey chapters ahead. Have fun.
-Part One-
Pale.
That was the first words that came into his head when he saw him. And he was. The creamy expanse of skin on his face, his arms, his throat. Like carved ivory, like a porcelain doll. How one could stay like that, he did not know.
For he had lived on the island his whole life.
All the life he could he could remember, a year, or a million perhaps, on this island where the people lived.
But the boy, the pale boy, he lived on the island where nobody lived.
Nobody except for him and the monster.
But these were things he would come to know later, so for now he simply saw him as the porcelain doll. The Doll sat alone on the small beach that lined the island, staring out at the sea. No one talked to him, or talked of him, for that was simply how it was, and to the rest of the children's eyes, how it would always be. And so, when they ran out across the great sandy expanse, their world, when they jumped and skipped and laughed, the simply yet studiously avoided him.
However, Sora could probably not be defined as a part of the rest of the children, For although he laughed, and skipped and jumped like the rest, he was not they. No, no, not like them at all.
Sora liked the porcelain doll. He admired him.
Admired him for his strength, for his beauty. He was perfect, with his silvery hair and his bright eyes that spoke of knowledge and power and sorrow and of places beyond their island. His eyes, they frightened the other children, yet Sora found them intriguing and perfect and beautiful, because they belonged to him. To the beautiful boy, of which he still did not know the name of.
Because, although he loved and admired him, he was afraid.
Afraid he would break him.
~*~
"I'm not made of glass you know. You're not going to break me by being a little rough." He smirked, running his hands up the sides of the boy beneath him. "In fact, its far more likely that I'll-" The smirk widened as he tangled a hand in Sora's hair, and pulled "-Break you." Sora's smoldering gaze latched onto the boys', and he grabbed his wrists, flipping them over so he was on top, the boys' hands pinned to the ground. He brought his face close to the boy's, half growling. "You wish." He captured his lips with his own. "you can't break me."
The boy smiled.
~*~
He was even more beautiful in the moonlight, in Sora's opinion. He still couldn't understand how the other children didn't notice it. Maybe it was because they had never seen him like this.
He stood on the edge of the platform, half in the Paopu tree's shadow. Every night he came here, and every night Sora followed, watching him from the bushes as he stood there, staring off at the horizon, as if waiting.
And waiting he was. Sora could tell; could see it in his eyes. He was waiting to leave. Waiting for someone, something, to take him away from this place, from this dreadful island that was like a prison to him.
Sora could see it in his eyes.
Tonight seemed no different, at first. As usual, he stood there, waiting, always waiting. Sometimes he stay there for minutes, sometimes hours, sometimes the whole night. Sora oftentimes wondering what the Doll's parents must be like; Sora always went home after a few hours, as much as he would've liked to stay.
In fact, that time had just about come; He had to leave, lest his parents discover his bed empty. Sighing, he draped the small bag of plants he had been carrying across his back, dusting off his pants and standing. He never really had to be careful on his way back, for the boy never even turned his head. Sparing one last glance for the moon drenched figure, he turned his head away, and had taken a couple of steps when a flash of movement suddenly caught his eye.
The Boy had extended his arms, usually limp and dangling or crossed, to either side of him. His head was tilted back, and even from the distance it was easy to see the sculpted plains of his face.
So delicate.
Intrigued, Sora, turned to stare at the boy. The Dolls feet were poised on end.
He took a deep breath, then let it out; his eyes opened.
And then he dropped.
~Owari
So, whaddya think? I know its not much now, but I hope something comes out of it. I've written ficlets before but nothing even close to a regular story, so this is my first post on ff.net. Eh. please review?
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. I own none of the places. Hell, I don't even own the title. Damnit.
Warning: AU. Shonen Ai and limey chapters ahead. Have fun.
-Part One-
Pale.
That was the first words that came into his head when he saw him. And he was. The creamy expanse of skin on his face, his arms, his throat. Like carved ivory, like a porcelain doll. How one could stay like that, he did not know.
For he had lived on the island his whole life.
All the life he could he could remember, a year, or a million perhaps, on this island where the people lived.
But the boy, the pale boy, he lived on the island where nobody lived.
Nobody except for him and the monster.
But these were things he would come to know later, so for now he simply saw him as the porcelain doll. The Doll sat alone on the small beach that lined the island, staring out at the sea. No one talked to him, or talked of him, for that was simply how it was, and to the rest of the children's eyes, how it would always be. And so, when they ran out across the great sandy expanse, their world, when they jumped and skipped and laughed, the simply yet studiously avoided him.
However, Sora could probably not be defined as a part of the rest of the children, For although he laughed, and skipped and jumped like the rest, he was not they. No, no, not like them at all.
Sora liked the porcelain doll. He admired him.
Admired him for his strength, for his beauty. He was perfect, with his silvery hair and his bright eyes that spoke of knowledge and power and sorrow and of places beyond their island. His eyes, they frightened the other children, yet Sora found them intriguing and perfect and beautiful, because they belonged to him. To the beautiful boy, of which he still did not know the name of.
Because, although he loved and admired him, he was afraid.
Afraid he would break him.
~*~
"I'm not made of glass you know. You're not going to break me by being a little rough." He smirked, running his hands up the sides of the boy beneath him. "In fact, its far more likely that I'll-" The smirk widened as he tangled a hand in Sora's hair, and pulled "-Break you." Sora's smoldering gaze latched onto the boys', and he grabbed his wrists, flipping them over so he was on top, the boys' hands pinned to the ground. He brought his face close to the boy's, half growling. "You wish." He captured his lips with his own. "you can't break me."
The boy smiled.
~*~
He was even more beautiful in the moonlight, in Sora's opinion. He still couldn't understand how the other children didn't notice it. Maybe it was because they had never seen him like this.
He stood on the edge of the platform, half in the Paopu tree's shadow. Every night he came here, and every night Sora followed, watching him from the bushes as he stood there, staring off at the horizon, as if waiting.
And waiting he was. Sora could tell; could see it in his eyes. He was waiting to leave. Waiting for someone, something, to take him away from this place, from this dreadful island that was like a prison to him.
Sora could see it in his eyes.
Tonight seemed no different, at first. As usual, he stood there, waiting, always waiting. Sometimes he stay there for minutes, sometimes hours, sometimes the whole night. Sora oftentimes wondering what the Doll's parents must be like; Sora always went home after a few hours, as much as he would've liked to stay.
In fact, that time had just about come; He had to leave, lest his parents discover his bed empty. Sighing, he draped the small bag of plants he had been carrying across his back, dusting off his pants and standing. He never really had to be careful on his way back, for the boy never even turned his head. Sparing one last glance for the moon drenched figure, he turned his head away, and had taken a couple of steps when a flash of movement suddenly caught his eye.
The Boy had extended his arms, usually limp and dangling or crossed, to either side of him. His head was tilted back, and even from the distance it was easy to see the sculpted plains of his face.
So delicate.
Intrigued, Sora, turned to stare at the boy. The Dolls feet were poised on end.
He took a deep breath, then let it out; his eyes opened.
And then he dropped.
~Owari
So, whaddya think? I know its not much now, but I hope something comes out of it. I've written ficlets before but nothing even close to a regular story, so this is my first post on ff.net. Eh. please review?