I had not moved since Reuben first spoke; it felt as though I had hardly even blinked. The Shinra's finest marionette....the thing that pulled the strings.
Fuck. What an Oedipus complex. He thought that our pet devil was his mother, and he followed it to his grave. Not denying it even possession of his own body when the Shinra disturbed their rest. And why should he not doubt his heredity? Because of the kind of upbringing he had, I imagine. Between Lucrecia's empty tomb and Hojo's.... well, and Hojo in general, I can hardly see a serene balance as is fitting for a superhuman child.
"I see. You have to tell me how you know all this.", I fumbled around on the table I was leaning against for a cigarette, not wanting to disregard my charge for an instant, nor the magnitude of our conversation, one that was rapidly spinning out of its depth. Zach sighed. He seemed painfully young, almost naked and yet already exposed in so many ways. I was pretty sure my hard-on could have poked me in the eye by then, if I hadn't been fully dressed. And believe me I wished I wasn't, but sometimes sex does not end up being as much of a comfort as you intended.
"But you don't have to tell me now", I gestured languidly at the black leather couch, implying, I hoped, that it was his for the night with nothing expected in return. Oh, Jesus….Zach….sweat…..leather….I'd better hit the sack. Alone.
Undressing in silence I made careful inspection of the topography of scars that make my every expanse of skin a distinguishing feature. There is a definite system by which the cigarette burns on my arms arrange themselves, an arcane hierarchy they are unable to betray. It started subtly enough, but then what doesn't? One, then another and then a wave of incoherent malaise guides me through the upper layer of epidermal static and I find thirty. Pain and death have a great deal in common, as do death and sleep. Sleep. It would pretend to be a mantra of paramount importance, a syllable so drenched with idyllic fascination that it overflows within itself and lands in great self-serving droplets against my window but never ventures inside. I tried to lie still with my eyes closed but my brain hummed with thoughts of him to an unbearable degree. I tried to count sheep but they kept humping.
* * * * *
Her hair fell against my neck, soft and shining, whispering something. I held her closer and took the opportunity to kiss her cheek gently, drawing back before exhaling her scent into the night. Cloudless and speckled with luminescent starlight, the waves forced glowing spray upward towards the moon, a rumbling challenge ignored by the occasional sea gull. I could swear that one force of nature or a whole host of them did not want us there. The sky was alive with writhing darkness, and the blurred horizon where it converged with the ocean completely drained of colour, of anything at all to differentiate them. A few years ago I might have been frightened by it.
I was not quite past that stage of disbelief I am certain befalls us all, when the most beautiful being we have ever beheld is right here beside us, and will be the next morning. Unless we drowned, I mused, noticing that the sea was beginning to churn a little. I lay on my back on a heavy blanket, my right knee bent in readiness to leap into a fight, if such a situation should arise. My lover draped her arm across my chest, resting her blond head on my left shoulder. Her legs were long, perfectly formed and crossed at the ankles, ending some five inches before mine. I suppose my being taller made me feel more secure in my ability to protect her, although I know that she looked after herself in all the years before we met and I daresay she does now that we are apart.
"You know something?"
I barely heard the question, more the feeling she sent me, borne on a current of warm mist and all the cares I had in this world. None of it mattered.
"What?"
"I want to love you -", she began, not appearing to be at all pained by the weight of her words, "But you won't let me".
* * * * *
Useless goddamn dreams.
Fuck. What an Oedipus complex. He thought that our pet devil was his mother, and he followed it to his grave. Not denying it even possession of his own body when the Shinra disturbed their rest. And why should he not doubt his heredity? Because of the kind of upbringing he had, I imagine. Between Lucrecia's empty tomb and Hojo's.... well, and Hojo in general, I can hardly see a serene balance as is fitting for a superhuman child.
"I see. You have to tell me how you know all this.", I fumbled around on the table I was leaning against for a cigarette, not wanting to disregard my charge for an instant, nor the magnitude of our conversation, one that was rapidly spinning out of its depth. Zach sighed. He seemed painfully young, almost naked and yet already exposed in so many ways. I was pretty sure my hard-on could have poked me in the eye by then, if I hadn't been fully dressed. And believe me I wished I wasn't, but sometimes sex does not end up being as much of a comfort as you intended.
"But you don't have to tell me now", I gestured languidly at the black leather couch, implying, I hoped, that it was his for the night with nothing expected in return. Oh, Jesus….Zach….sweat…..leather….I'd better hit the sack. Alone.
Undressing in silence I made careful inspection of the topography of scars that make my every expanse of skin a distinguishing feature. There is a definite system by which the cigarette burns on my arms arrange themselves, an arcane hierarchy they are unable to betray. It started subtly enough, but then what doesn't? One, then another and then a wave of incoherent malaise guides me through the upper layer of epidermal static and I find thirty. Pain and death have a great deal in common, as do death and sleep. Sleep. It would pretend to be a mantra of paramount importance, a syllable so drenched with idyllic fascination that it overflows within itself and lands in great self-serving droplets against my window but never ventures inside. I tried to lie still with my eyes closed but my brain hummed with thoughts of him to an unbearable degree. I tried to count sheep but they kept humping.
* * * * *
Her hair fell against my neck, soft and shining, whispering something. I held her closer and took the opportunity to kiss her cheek gently, drawing back before exhaling her scent into the night. Cloudless and speckled with luminescent starlight, the waves forced glowing spray upward towards the moon, a rumbling challenge ignored by the occasional sea gull. I could swear that one force of nature or a whole host of them did not want us there. The sky was alive with writhing darkness, and the blurred horizon where it converged with the ocean completely drained of colour, of anything at all to differentiate them. A few years ago I might have been frightened by it.
I was not quite past that stage of disbelief I am certain befalls us all, when the most beautiful being we have ever beheld is right here beside us, and will be the next morning. Unless we drowned, I mused, noticing that the sea was beginning to churn a little. I lay on my back on a heavy blanket, my right knee bent in readiness to leap into a fight, if such a situation should arise. My lover draped her arm across my chest, resting her blond head on my left shoulder. Her legs were long, perfectly formed and crossed at the ankles, ending some five inches before mine. I suppose my being taller made me feel more secure in my ability to protect her, although I know that she looked after herself in all the years before we met and I daresay she does now that we are apart.
"You know something?"
I barely heard the question, more the feeling she sent me, borne on a current of warm mist and all the cares I had in this world. None of it mattered.
"What?"
"I want to love you -", she began, not appearing to be at all pained by the weight of her words, "But you won't let me".
* * * * *
Useless goddamn dreams.