After Midnight
After midnight, the world is a different place. Even in the dead of summer there is a slight chill, more imagined than felt. All the shadows are a little darker, and the stars seem even further out of reach.
He said once, that night was only different than day because we made it so. With him, the night was no different, just more hours in bottomless eternity, minutes and seconds winding through a timeless world.
He is gone now.
The hour between midnight and one. Once it was called the witching hour; I know where it got its name. The moon is riding high in the sky, a sharp sickle blade amongst so many glittering ice shards. Once, we laughed and mocked the night. Reveled in the darkness on our skin. Now he is one with the shadows, and I am very alone.
I can still see him, a wicked grin dancing on his lips and lighting those impossible green eyes. But now, those lips curve down in sorrow, and those amazing eyes are hidden by a thin band of shadow. Silver hair worn long, always falling into his eyes. I used to tease him about it. He would make some quip about my own brown spikes, and we would laugh. The time passed quickly, and it was always sunny.
Someone said once to me, so long ago it is only a dream now, that heaven is a perfect place, where it is sunny all the time, never too hot or too cold or too bright, but perfect; as perfect as those days.
Time changes people. Darkness warps them. He chose the darkness as his own, even as I took the light. And I was powerless to save him. It was his choice. He was innocent, and did not know the price. But that choice has consumed him. Part of him is dead now, the part that can only be seen in those ever-hidden eyes. Eyes that are blinded so as not to conceal the unseen truth.
I chose light. I chose to fight for those I loved. So did he. We are not that different. But for luck, I would be him—broken and alone. And everything would be all right. I deserve it, after all. I abandoned them, forgot them quickly in a quest that overwhelmed me. Yet he, who tried the hardest—he is lost.
I walk in light. He walks in shadow. He is blind and yet I see. We both paid our prices, but his cost was far greater. In the end, he chose again. Sin and redemption. The oldest, only tale. We were never so different. Sin and redemption. Loss and gain. So long as simple pleasure gives our spirits wings, so long as the heavy chain of duty binds us to the ground, he was ever the stronger. Sin and redemption. Checkmate. You won. So why did you lose, my brother, my heart, my friend?
Little KH…. Thing. Short, I know, but I kinda like how it came out. Written, appropriately enough, between midnight and one my time. Loosly based on theMisty Lackey song of the same name.I'm not sure if I'll actually post it anytime soon, but it will sit on my computer until I decide. If you're reading this, I did post it, so pretty, pretty please:
REVIEW! The button is right there, you can't miss it ;)