Disclaimer: Star-light, Star-bright... First star I see tonight... Wish I may... Wish I might... Own the deeds to Dragon Knights...
Warnings: What? Warnings? Um, fwuff? Uh, minor swearing in dedication? Major references to Tintlett's first chapter? o-oa
A/N: Wrapping It Up: Part Three. Last "split" chapter, one final thing after this to tie it all together.
:n:
They lit a flame with the match God made
:n:
High overhead beams supported the roof of the gymnasium. They were made of welded metal, coated with paint or insulation or fine flakes of rust. Stretching across the ceiling, crisscrossing and intertwining, they ran past the thick walls and small moon-tinted windows that hedged in the distracted students.
And were totally, completely, entirely ignored.
Serving to keep rubble off of the dancers, most cast them naught but a passing upwards glance; some didn't even give them that.
After all, they held nothing to see.
The song hit its final crescendo, rising to a high petulant note that slowly faded off into the distance of shifting feet and breathy talk.
And as that last wave washed through the air, that last tremor of momentary insubstantial certainty faded back into a questioning pause, Rune dropped his arms from Tintlett's waist.
She stepped back, letting go of him as well.
Her eyes never did release him, he noticed. The liquid waters within them were no longer shining with rising light, but swirled with dusk: with the moment halfway between blinding night and breathtaking day.
They seemed deeper.
And Rune mentally laughed. He shoved aside the sudden arbitrary and unable to be worded notion that if he was to sail upon them... That a falling wish written on paper and tied to a trailing star could sink into their depths, slowly fading away, but never reaching their limits. The idea was amusing, but he found himself unable to either grin or voice it for her benefit. He was sinking, falling, losing himself in vision. And, he would have been pleased to note, were he not so frozen in the instant, She was meeting his gaze.
Tintlett felt as though to breathe would be to fill to the brim a container, primed for overflowing from the sudden influx of emotions. She watched through half-lidded eyes as the world paused, each desperately needed heartbeat pulsing away the heightened senses while simultaneously growing in tension. Her blood rushed in her ears: a sin, it seemed, in this static moment. Her mind was lost in the still-present heat of his touch on her skin, of the scent of his chest, of the near-tears that blurred her inner-vision when she dared to close her eyes.
Bodies moved around them like nameless supporting characters in a charade, providing but a mere background for the leading roles.
Rune hesitated, one hand caught in the act of reaching out to to her: To do what, he couldn't say. Clasp her arm? Brush over her face? Take her shivering hand in his?
And her eyes glanced to the ground, taking in sightlessly the cracks and fine dirt and varnish beneath her feet.
He drew back at her movement, red flame suddenly leaping to his cheeks in an unaccustomed fashion.
A hint of pink came to her face as well, and her mouth lost its soft open gasp, settling firmly into a determined half-pout.
Then she looked up at him, pulling his sight to her's, slowly immersing herself in his widened blue eyes, freed of mists for a startled clear spring. His golden hair framed his face, a couple rouge strands slipping past his gaze.
Tintlett stepped forward, almost tentatively brushing them to one side with a slow but controlled touch. Her hand paused at the warm skin of his face, and she felt her breathing hitch and heartbeats quicken. Then deliberately at first, so much so that for an agonizing moment she though that she might not be moving at all, Tintlett leaned up towards Rune and pressed her lips into his.
Any imagined dying echoes of sound dissolved completely, disappearing into the high iron beams. The supports themselves seemed to fade, as roofs overhead passed out of knowledge and walls, floor, bleachers, foundations, students, time was forgotten.
Moonlight shattered, veiling the senses with the sudden realization of its twin, glossing over the world with a memory of perfect windows and star-drenched night.
But down below, a loose sheet of white paper sunk down into a mesmerizing dream, inken-scribed wishes absorbing into the dim of a single, slowly rising sun.
:n:
Capella:blinks: ...It got cut off... T-T But, yes. Acting is awesome. n-n So there was a brief mention in here. :nodnod: Um... The rest of your note is at the top of this. :points:
Hououza: Mediaminer... Never been there before. :sweatdrop: Rambling reviews are good. They're the only type I send... :larger sweatdrop: And yes, that did make sense. That's one of the things I love about them. nn
Peridot-chan: Well, it shall never change for me, either. Only... Not... :slightly confused: Yeah. You get it. I hope. Haha... I believe you were the second one to say that. XD Endings are awesome, and I'm still smacking myself upside the head for not making a name like yours. Why do you have it, btw?
Sarehptar: Cheerleader:cracking up: That's one funky mental image... :imagining random cheerleader popping up behind them next to the bleachers: o-O;
Timeless13: Hehehe. I'm going to have to agree with you on all your points there. And if you ever want more Thatchel, have fun looking through the stuff I posted last December... :innocent:
Crysta Renishi:sweatdrop: I know, there's a long story behind my spelling his name the Japanese way... Almost as pointless as my spelling "Tintlett" with two "t"s. :mega sweatdrop: ...I don't think you'll ever actually see this note, though, so I'm just gonna leave it at that.