CCS is not mine at all. It's all CLAMP's.
Completely Kaho/Eriol. And proud of it.
---------------------------------------------------
A dance
He was sitting in his study, staring quietly at the fireplace, when she returned home.
She paused a moment on the door, studying the tall figure; the way his dark hair reflected some of the fireplace light, the calm smile and the way his shoulder slowly relaxed as he leaned back in the big dark red chair.
"You really like that chair, don't you?"
"I would think the answer is quite obvious, don't you think?" He had known she was home from the very moment she had stood in front of the front door.
She laughed softly and walked towards him. Her legs brushed his pants as she sat in one of the chair's arms, her hands in her lap. "Nothing's obvious about you."
"And yet..." He took one of her hands in his. "...you are the only one who really understands me, Kaho."
She smiled warmly at his words. Deeper words were exchanged without a sound. Still, he could hear them as clearly as is she had whispered them in his ear.
"But you are right, there's something else about this chair. I've always liked it. Not a memory of liking it... It's a feeling."
"A feeling." It was not a question. He knew she was considering his words carefully, like she always did. She was really close now and he could see her irises widen slightly, a small, unconscious, sign of interest.
His free arm encircled her waist, pulling her into his lap." It's a nice chair. Comfortable."
"Yes. It's really nice." in the position she was now she was, like it had been until last year, a little taller than him. Physical changes had been expected and wanted, but the rapid transformation had been strange for him after so many years in a young form. It was only recently that he had started to feel comfortable in his own skin again.
Both moved slowly at the same time, like dancers taking the first step. Arms entwined, no one really leading the dance their lips had started. The kiss was soft at first, her closed lips pressed against his. Then, as the silent music changed its rhythm, lips parted.
It was not the first one, but it was different from all the others. Breaths marked a quickening tempo and hands started a ballet of their own. Eyes fluttered open for a moment, finally understanding the kind of dance they were about to begin, only to close when the only thing they could see in each other's eyes was an unspoken but loud yes.
For someone subtle enough to hear it, the music in the room would have been stronger than a hundred orchestras playing at unison.
Clow Reed blinked a few times, adjusting himself. He still had his quill in his right hand, the left one resting over a half-written letter he didn't remember how to continue. Or what was it about.
The visions were becoming a common thing lately, coming unannounced at any time of the day. Clow knew he didn't have the power to control them. The future showed itself to him according to its own whim, which was by far more devious than anyone he had ever met in his long life.
He couldn't remember the details of what he had seen. Like a dream, the memory was fading with every passing second. A future not yet written was always a little blurry and, most of the time, Clow Reed was thankful for it. Some of the possibilities he had seen had been less than pleasant, which was another good reason for keeping his plans hidden from Yue and Cerberus. However, this possible future didn't feel as disturbing as the others. Cleaning his quill, the magician tried to remember. There had been a couple, a woman with long hair and a young man, both of them vaguely familiar. Clow was almost sure he had already seen them before in one of the visions.
And they... oh.
Oh.
Getting up he took a few steps toward the center of the room and stared at the red leather chair in a whole new light. He would be careful to take good care of it from now on ... after all, in the future; someone would have very fond memories of that chair.
A/N: I actually meant to write this as just a kiss, but the characters thought otherwise. It's from this that all the music references came from: there's a feeling of anticipation that's similar to the start of a symphony. Slow and in crescendo.
Completely Kaho/Eriol. And proud of it.
---------------------------------------------------
A dance
He was sitting in his study, staring quietly at the fireplace, when she returned home.
She paused a moment on the door, studying the tall figure; the way his dark hair reflected some of the fireplace light, the calm smile and the way his shoulder slowly relaxed as he leaned back in the big dark red chair.
"You really like that chair, don't you?"
"I would think the answer is quite obvious, don't you think?" He had known she was home from the very moment she had stood in front of the front door.
She laughed softly and walked towards him. Her legs brushed his pants as she sat in one of the chair's arms, her hands in her lap. "Nothing's obvious about you."
"And yet..." He took one of her hands in his. "...you are the only one who really understands me, Kaho."
She smiled warmly at his words. Deeper words were exchanged without a sound. Still, he could hear them as clearly as is she had whispered them in his ear.
"But you are right, there's something else about this chair. I've always liked it. Not a memory of liking it... It's a feeling."
"A feeling." It was not a question. He knew she was considering his words carefully, like she always did. She was really close now and he could see her irises widen slightly, a small, unconscious, sign of interest.
His free arm encircled her waist, pulling her into his lap." It's a nice chair. Comfortable."
"Yes. It's really nice." in the position she was now she was, like it had been until last year, a little taller than him. Physical changes had been expected and wanted, but the rapid transformation had been strange for him after so many years in a young form. It was only recently that he had started to feel comfortable in his own skin again.
Both moved slowly at the same time, like dancers taking the first step. Arms entwined, no one really leading the dance their lips had started. The kiss was soft at first, her closed lips pressed against his. Then, as the silent music changed its rhythm, lips parted.
It was not the first one, but it was different from all the others. Breaths marked a quickening tempo and hands started a ballet of their own. Eyes fluttered open for a moment, finally understanding the kind of dance they were about to begin, only to close when the only thing they could see in each other's eyes was an unspoken but loud yes.
For someone subtle enough to hear it, the music in the room would have been stronger than a hundred orchestras playing at unison.
Clow Reed blinked a few times, adjusting himself. He still had his quill in his right hand, the left one resting over a half-written letter he didn't remember how to continue. Or what was it about.
The visions were becoming a common thing lately, coming unannounced at any time of the day. Clow knew he didn't have the power to control them. The future showed itself to him according to its own whim, which was by far more devious than anyone he had ever met in his long life.
He couldn't remember the details of what he had seen. Like a dream, the memory was fading with every passing second. A future not yet written was always a little blurry and, most of the time, Clow Reed was thankful for it. Some of the possibilities he had seen had been less than pleasant, which was another good reason for keeping his plans hidden from Yue and Cerberus. However, this possible future didn't feel as disturbing as the others. Cleaning his quill, the magician tried to remember. There had been a couple, a woman with long hair and a young man, both of them vaguely familiar. Clow was almost sure he had already seen them before in one of the visions.
And they... oh.
Oh.
Getting up he took a few steps toward the center of the room and stared at the red leather chair in a whole new light. He would be careful to take good care of it from now on ... after all, in the future; someone would have very fond memories of that chair.
A/N: I actually meant to write this as just a kiss, but the characters thought otherwise. It's from this that all the music references came from: there's a feeling of anticipation that's similar to the start of a symphony. Slow and in crescendo.