the artist formerly known as lunacy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mildlunacy) wrote2009-12-04 09:04 pm
mildlunacy) wrote2009-12-04 09:04 pm
Entry tags:
Original Fic: How Soon is Now (PG)
just recently i was writing self-deprecating-but-not-quite-pathetic stories. i still didn't know where i was going, but at least... at least...that seemed like a good thing. sort of like, i could write the beginnings and leave the endings for someone else. good trick, huh? i don't have to get pathetic, because i refuse to go beyond the first stage. then i started my other hp story, set "after" a relationship fizzled. ick. it's fun to write but it's really sapping me, it seems, in the "true romance" vibe dept. i dunno if this means i should -stop-. hm.
well...
The words that remain tumble from my lips like poison. Hurried and frantic, trying to catch up to you, but I can never touch you, not like this. The roses are blooming again, and I am faint with their scent, stealing cruelly through every corner.
When you pass me, I smell it strongest, overpowering, intoxicating. You carry the true poison of your roses within you. And all I want is to bury my face, and breathe, as deeply as I can. Your hair against my eyelids, your hands against my cheeks, your chest against mine. I just want you to let me drown. But I can't ask. You won't hear me.
You'd spoken of miracles and the dream, that keeps me here, touching your shadows, as you run, as the music keeps you-- running-- through the castle of your heart-- tell me, what do you see, there, around the corner?
The silence seething, in slow sips, and I dance for you each day, I wish so much and I-- became this way-- just like you-- I just wish you'd see you.
And all the mirrors lie. And all the mirrors are inside. You rush past, you can't see why I'd follow, why I'm crying. All the mirrors sparkling like windows, along every wall. They frighten but comfort me-- they see me. They're there, saying I'm still looking.
We danced that one night, slowly you'd looked into my eyes and a low rumble passed your chest.
"Be with me," you'd said, simply.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't ask you that. You can't. I can't...."
"Why, why? My god, why?" I was crying, clutching your arms, my fingernails digging into your skin, but of course you didn't notice.
"Never... I can never... love another... cursed...."
I stood on my tiptoes, and pulled your head down, and you didn't resist, and I forgot about telling you I loved you, and I forgot about reassuring you that you're beautiful, and I just thrust my tongue into your mouth, and I just closed my eyes, and we were still dancing. Your lips were beautiful-- and soft-- and human. You were the furthest thing from a beast. Your skin was delicate, and there was a tinge of wildflowers secretly about you, and of course the deep, hopeless rush of roses.
I swayed against you and the lights swam behind my eyes. I was running my fingers up and down your arms, and all I could feel was petal-soft skin, smooth, unbroken skin. I licked your mouth, and kissed all around it, your face, your chin, your jaw, your neck. I was rushing, fumbling at you, tumbling inside you. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," I was whispering, over and over again. "Yes...."
"This is who you are," I tried to tell you, without words. As my palms spread against your smooth back, I traced patterns of purity and desire and yearning as well I knew how. We were spinning, spinning and dancing out of control. I could no longer remember who I was, who you were. All I knew was this rush of knowledge that you were mine. "This is destiny," I whispered against your lips. "And this is love. And this is me, this is me touching you, because I want to. Because I want you."
"Beauty...."
"Yes."
"I don't know my name," you said, at last, in confusion. "I only know what I am. A beast. Is that enough for you? Can that ever be enough?"
"Look at me. Look at me. This is enough," I whispered. "This is enough."
well...
The words that remain tumble from my lips like poison. Hurried and frantic, trying to catch up to you, but I can never touch you, not like this. The roses are blooming again, and I am faint with their scent, stealing cruelly through every corner.
When you pass me, I smell it strongest, overpowering, intoxicating. You carry the true poison of your roses within you. And all I want is to bury my face, and breathe, as deeply as I can. Your hair against my eyelids, your hands against my cheeks, your chest against mine. I just want you to let me drown. But I can't ask. You won't hear me.
You'd spoken of miracles and the dream, that keeps me here, touching your shadows, as you run, as the music keeps you-- running-- through the castle of your heart-- tell me, what do you see, there, around the corner?
The silence seething, in slow sips, and I dance for you each day, I wish so much and I-- became this way-- just like you-- I just wish you'd see you.
And all the mirrors lie. And all the mirrors are inside. You rush past, you can't see why I'd follow, why I'm crying. All the mirrors sparkling like windows, along every wall. They frighten but comfort me-- they see me. They're there, saying I'm still looking.
We danced that one night, slowly you'd looked into my eyes and a low rumble passed your chest.
"Be with me," you'd said, simply.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't ask you that. You can't. I can't...."
"Why, why? My god, why?" I was crying, clutching your arms, my fingernails digging into your skin, but of course you didn't notice.
"Never... I can never... love another... cursed...."
I stood on my tiptoes, and pulled your head down, and you didn't resist, and I forgot about telling you I loved you, and I forgot about reassuring you that you're beautiful, and I just thrust my tongue into your mouth, and I just closed my eyes, and we were still dancing. Your lips were beautiful-- and soft-- and human. You were the furthest thing from a beast. Your skin was delicate, and there was a tinge of wildflowers secretly about you, and of course the deep, hopeless rush of roses.
I swayed against you and the lights swam behind my eyes. I was running my fingers up and down your arms, and all I could feel was petal-soft skin, smooth, unbroken skin. I licked your mouth, and kissed all around it, your face, your chin, your jaw, your neck. I was rushing, fumbling at you, tumbling inside you. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," I was whispering, over and over again. "Yes...."
"This is who you are," I tried to tell you, without words. As my palms spread against your smooth back, I traced patterns of purity and desire and yearning as well I knew how. We were spinning, spinning and dancing out of control. I could no longer remember who I was, who you were. All I knew was this rush of knowledge that you were mine. "This is destiny," I whispered against your lips. "And this is love. And this is me, this is me touching you, because I want to. Because I want you."
"Beauty...."
"Yes."
"I don't know my name," you said, at last, in confusion. "I only know what I am. A beast. Is that enough for you? Can that ever be enough?"
"Look at me. Look at me. This is enough," I whispered. "This is enough."