Rating : T
Warnings : (none needed)
Pairing : trustshipping
Colour : gold
Musical inspiration : Sophie's Tomorrow - Eminence Symphony Orchestra
Requested by: WritingAmateur
The afternoon sun made crosses over the tile floor and and light of her eyes.
"Are you sure you don't want us to stay?"
A half dozen young faces with expectant smiles.
"Setup for the gala is almost finished, you needn't wait up."
Somewhere ahead, the doors whispered closed.
She imagined.
Some hours later they'd be held open with white gloves.
The low din of a slow-gathering party pressing out into the night air.
From within, swathes of bright fabric and masks all agleam.
Figurative.
Practiced smiles and polite laughs.
Literal.
Curving shapes around everyone's eyes, no end to decoration and expense.
But until then…
The right kind of near-silence before the proverbial storm. The kind where even the hums of the massive lights dotting the dark and soaring ceiling over the exhibits hummed.
Creepy.
Someone had called it once.
Not really.
Just—
"Quiet."
All at once she jumped, eyes snapping open and hand flying to her collar as if to calm her fright-stirred heart.
He was…
Not at all how she remembered.
Coattails and angles all and worn but sleek. Metal only in the expected instances, a pin lettered and bright against a black lapel, "KC", and cufflinks catching light as he smoothed as stray strand into place, where it'd fallen from the half sweep out of his eyes. The rest was feathered with a handful of early silver he'd decided not to fight.
The same as his own curiosity.
Why are you here?
The words bubbled up on her tongue, half amused and any greeting disappearing.
"It's been a while."
"It has."
Age had crept into his voice, drawing it a little deeper, smoother.
She'd guessed at this then confirmed, her name an entirely different texture on his tongue now.
"Ishizu."
He nodded slightly in what she supposed was something of a bow.
His culture.
Somewhere where this address meant something.
The gesture and her name.
Where he pretended otherwise.
Where she pretended otherwise.
Mimicked the nod
Told herself she didn't notice the shape of his name on her lips.
"Seto."
For the first time.
And likely the last.
"If you're here for the gala, I'm afraid you're a little early."
"Time differences." He went on quickly, "is the museum closed?"
Though he looked as if he knew the answer even before he'd thought to ask.
"Yes, but can make an exception this once."
Where she'd anticipated, heart seeming to stop, she found no reason for it after all.
"Thank you."
She couldn't help the smile stealing onto her lips, however small.
The quiet of the museum enveloped them as they strolled.
Easy paths between the glass cases.
He stood at the bottom of one of many staircases, eyes up to the pair of stone statues there and arms folded easily behind his back, fingers absently tapping at the mask in hand.
The King and Queen of some forgotten time.
If she knew he would jump, she might not have reached for it. But there she was, just barely suppressing the desire to step away once he'd wheeled around to face her.
But he wasn't much better, just as much effort spent in arranging his features in some blank way.
And then, the last thing she might have expected.
"What… are you doing?"
His voice had cracked.
Afterwards, he was as quick to clear his throat as he was to offer her the white, gleaming thing.
She looked at the mask just to puzzle without his notice.
Without a word, they resumed their stroll.
"Is that what you're wearing this evening?"
Casting a glance aside, she caught his eyes flicking up from wherever they'd begun to wander.
"Of course not," she said. "I won't be attending."
He stopped so quickly, she was a step ahead before she realised.
His face was unreadable.
And his pause without reason.
"Understandable."
Once more, he made to resume their pace.
Only she dallied, pretending to take interest in an exhibit near her. Carefully, she turned as if to better look at it and saw better.
Reflected in a fragment, she spied, watched him reach up to tug at his collar.
By the time she turned around, there wasn't a trace of it left.
The restlessness.
She couldn't guess where the idea came from but it slipped out before she could think better of it.
"A new exhibit is set to première tonight."
When he didn't dismiss the idea…
"Follow me."
His steps had a pleasant sort of sound, the pointed clack of some types of heels.
One of two double doors pressed slowly open with an obstinate creak.
Beyond was dark and vast.
They stepped just inside and she reached, blindly patting at the wall until she found the switch.
A thousand lights flicked to life one by one.
Slowly they spread into an arch, a figure outstretched.
"The sky goddess."
She couldn't make out his expression in near, blued dark. But she felt, somehow, that he hadn't attempted to mock her.
This was one too many instances.
"You knew exactly what time it was," she began quietly, "and you knew the museum was closed."
He neared as if to hear her better.
"Additionally, I'd be willing to bet you knew that I was not due to attend tonight's gala. Since you've decided not to volunteer an answer, I'll ask. Why you are here?"
He didn't answer.
Not with words but with hands slowly taking her arms. Lips brushing hers. Some smaller space than a moment. And yet somehow, in such a space, sparkling clarity.
A kiss before a kiss.
And the second without description. Even while she'd anticipated it, she hadn't the feel. Every inch of her entirely still but inside, light just barely contained. Sparks erupting in every vein.
Endless.
Ending.
He let her go.
And she couldn't remember when she'd closed her eyes.
Or when it ever felt like that.
No.
Maybe it never had.
Her mind swam with warm thoughts and not one of them sensible.
But she's stopped caring then and reached blindly in the dark once more.
Curled.
Fingers into his lapels.
Words against his lips.
"I didn't quite catch that…"