Disclaimer: I do not own Juvenile Orion or The Angel by William Blake.
A poemfic; this is new, eh? Oddly, I have a shirt that has this poem on it (along with A Dream Within a Dream and some other poetry -and with pictures of old buildings, angels, and compasses).
I was bored one day and was reading the poem on my elbow and it struck me how much it was like an angst-y pairing of Nakaura and Amou-kun (who, in my opinion, is the only one who has the right to call him Tomonori-san so I will be referring to him as Nakaura).
Also, overlook the 'maiden Queen' part in the poem, will you? The Angel isn't an exact fit for my fanfic, you know!
The Angel
I Dreamt a Dream! What can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen:
Guarded by an Angel mild;
Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!
And I wept both night and day
And he wiped my tears away
And I wept both day and night
And hid from him my hearts delight
So he took his wings and fled:
Then the morn blushed rosy red:
I dried my tears & armed my fears,
With ten thousand shields and spears.
Soon my Angel came again;
I was armed, he came in vain:
For the time of youth was fled
And grey hairs were on my head
-
-
"Tomonori-san!"
Tomonori Nakaura quickly looked over his shoulder, spectacles slipping slightly down his nose and smiled as the blonde boy who lightly jogged to fall in step with him. Pale cheeks rosy with exertion, Amou cheerily asked after his day between laboured breaths. When they got to Nakaura's apartment, Amou scurried off to do homework in his room and the dark-haired man started dinner in the kitchen. Setting the oven timer, he spread his work like a second tablecloth over the kitchen table and began grading papers.
He frowned over one of the tests whose margins were filled with doodles. His pen stopped over a crude drawing of an angel done in the corner of the page and his thoughts routinely swung around to Tsukasa. The boy was getting along well; his bouts of depression had stopped in frequency and intensity with Kirihara and the others surrounding him.
Kirihara, she was the first to accept Amou for who he was, heedless of the damage he done to her past. Nakaura was glad that Amou was finally at ease with his Eraser powers though it hurt him to know that Amou had been afraid to tell him his wings and slightly jealous of Kirihara, to whom the boy had turned to. Nakaura remembered the first time he had revealed his wings. Great pristine curtains that shaded the boy's willowy form in a curtain of stainless white.
'You are an angel sent to me from God,' Nakaura had said and as he remembered this he rubbed at his arms, which tingled from the memory of embracing the beautiful flustered boy.
Beautiful. Had he just thought that? Well…he was. Limpid blue eyes flecked with shards of amber like two great jewels curtained with thick honey-coloured lashes, shaded by finely drawn eyebrows. Pale star-spun hair tumbled over his forehead in sheer messy sheets and a rosebud mouth that always smiled. But the eyes…how could he forget the eyes? It was the intensity and emotion in those ethereal orbs that drew him- no! No, not drew…intrigued- yes, that's better- intrigued him so. Glistening with unshed tears, crinkling in joy, wide with an insatiable curiosity. Someone had said that the eyes were the windows to the soul. Then Amou's eyes were like twin bay windows set in a house overlooking paradise.
'Sensei,' Kirihara had asked when he had met her for the first time. 'Do you like Amou-kun?' Nakaura had almost taken that at face value but then had seen the blush on Kirihara's cheeks. 'He is very special to me,' he had replied. 'He really is.' How could he have said yes? Yes, he did not just like Amou, he loved him. He loved him with a passion, he adored him, he was enchanted almost to the point of obsession with the high-school boy.
"Tomonori-san?"
"Eh?" Nakaura was jolted out of his reverie and saw the sun of his universe standing at the doorway, looking at him patiently. o-o
"Is dinner almost ready?" the boy asked politely, his hands clasped meekly behind his back.
"Y-yes," Nakaura replied and the timer wailed in agreement. Nakaura glanced down at the paper he was grading and saw to his horror that he had inked out a pair of wings in red pen around the angel's ears. Hastily gathering up the completed stack, he shut them up in his shoulder bag so that Amou had room to set the glasses and plates.
Pulling out the food from the oven, Nakaura slipped off his oven mitts and cut sizeable portions of the casserole and served it, sitting down to wait for his share to cool slightly. He looked across the table and saw Amou, eyes intent on his task as he blew on his food slightly to help speed it along to a cooler temperature. Rosy lips in a perfect circle.
High-school student. That's where it all came crashing down. He was a teacher and Amou was a student at his school, eight years his junior. Not only was Nakaura totally clueless about Amou's amorous preferences but the boy would also never consider someone so old. 'I'm not even human,' Amou had told him. Could Erasers love? Was it even technically possible for the boy to see him as more than a fellow comrade, teacher, housemate, friend, and surrogate guardian? What would happen if Nakaura ever expressed his emotions? Shock, mortification, rejection. And the worst one; separation. He didn't think he could bear it if his angel left him. It's for the best that Tsukasa lives under the same roof as I do, oblivious yet content. And if he is happy, so am I.
Quickly gobbling up his food, Nakaura put away the leftovers as Amou stacked and washed the plates and cutlery.
"Going to sleep?" he asked Amou as he passed him; the blonde boy nodded. Nakaura himself stifled a yawn; he couldn't even sleep in tomorrow. He was having to lead more and more of his church services now that the other Wiz-dom members were getting intensely involved with defending their faction against the imposing mind-breaker threat. Some of his comrades had already died.
"Well, good night," the dark-haired man said wearily, wandering off into his own room for some scant hours of rest.
"Good night, Tomonori-san!" Amou chirruped and the other man hid a smile. Tsukasa.
o-o (A/N: Eeew, mushy mushy! Go on, I know you want to laugh at that)
Er, I'm too poor and distracted to buy the 5th Juvenile Orion so this fanfic is based on numbers 2 & 4, which I own and 1 & 3 from what I remember from them.
I'm pathetic.
Blake fans, what does 'witless woe was ne'er beguiled' mean? Foolish despair was never fooled? That does NOT make sense.
Please, I absolutely have to know for the next chapter, when I'm going to start applying the poem to the story so that's…four chapters plus a conclusion chapter. Whew! That seems like a lot right now, my other fanfics are going to start complaining!
I would really appreciate it if you reviewed. (desperate smile)