Familiar Themes
"You're a painting with symbols deep,
A symphony, soft as it shifts to dark beneath
A poem that flows, caressing my skin
In all of these things you reside in and
I want to flow from the pen, bow and brush,
Then paper, string and canvas touch
With ink in the air to dust your light
From morning to 'til the black of night
This is my call, I belong to you
This is my call, to sing the melodies of you
This is my call, I can do nothing else
I can do nothing else"
-- Sixpence None The Richer, Melody of You
Flesh, pale white and smooth - like milk, really - and the moonlight glides across his form imbuing his figure with a startling radiance no human merits. He looks like a fucking God, with long silver lashes dusting his cheekbones creating glinting crescents against that flawless skin.
Black silks flows over his form, and his fingers speak of not-quite-fading gentleness. They grow with a thinness that looks like cruelty.
He's not that.
He's not that cruel monster that everyone paints him as, not that spoilt brat who calls for attention because he thinks it's owed to him.
Colin knows the gentleness in those fingers. He knows those fine lines in those knuckles and those clean, blunt nails manicured to perfection.
And yet he knows the grip of those hands, the tight clutching and hoping and pleas to never, never let go. Colin's eyes follow the hands and graceful muscles and suddenly the figure of his... his... obsession is lost beneath solid shadows.
The harsh flash of a camera highlights that angular face and Colin knows that any other time he would've flinched. But Draco ignores it with a grace born of familiarity.
Draco.
His name is foreign and sticks unnaturally on his tongue when Colin says it, but Colin likes it anyway.
Then silver eyelashes flutter to reveal a clear grey.
"I always thought you were a freak with that stalker-ish camera of yours," Draco whispers sleepily with a perfect smile and the delicate line of cupid's bow could be traced on his mouth.
Colin smiles imperfectly and they are like two lonely children huddled close, sharing a secret nobody else knows.
"What are you doing?" The velvet voice persists.
Taking a picture. Watching you. Thinking.
"Making it last longer."
A/N: Go ahead; call me sick if you have a low tolerance for slash. I don't mind. This was... something I had to write. It's supposed to be sweet, not gross, by the way. Draco/Colin is not a commonly explored pairing since we haven't seen much - or alright, any - interaction between these two characters, but that's what fanfiction is for me i.e., taking that seems something impossible and making it possible. It's playing with different characters without the distraction of having to set up a universe.
Colin presents a character whose camera is like his... his lens, really. His pictures probably represent how he sees the world, what he thinks should be seen. He gets distracted sometimes by moving wizard pictures and such, but in the end, he still loves his camera. It's like a focus on something else, really and Draco is, well... Draco's something else. He focuses too much on himself (his goals, his actions, his father, his accomplishments, his possessions, etc.) and Colin focuses too much on the things and people around him.
Perhaps I'm reading too much into Colin and his camera, perhaps I'm reading Draco wrongly. It doesn't matter that this is OOC, because in the end, this is how I'm interpreting things and what I'm writing.
Feedback would be very much appreciated.