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Sep. 24th, 2004 06:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pipistrellafelixI wrote this today when I was 'studying' at Starbucks (because, you know, inspiration trumps homework) and thought, haha, I'll post this on my journal! ...and now I'm all embarrassed about it. Because that's what happens when I reread my work. But hell. I'm posting it anyway. It makes no sense, even if you have read the work it comes from (which no one has, except possibly Allie). And sorry about the present tense. I usually don't use it, but this...kind of asked for it.
Elysia feels Taloy’s fingers, feather-light, touch her cheek, run along her jaw. She bites her lip. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Her throat feels constricted, and her eyes ache from refusing to let tears out. Don’t cry, dammit. It won’t help.
“Elysia,” Taloy says, his voice a whisper even though A. has left. “We’ll be all right.”
Elysia makes a noise, somewhere between a hiccup and a derisive laugh. It makes her throat feel rough. “Since when are you the optimist?” she asks, looking up into Taloy’s eyes. He is smiling, his expression lacking in any of the sarcasm or formality she’s so used to seeing there.
“Since you stopped,” Taloy says. “Where’s your unfailing sense of humor?”
“A. stole it,” Elysia, although there is the twist of a smile around her mouth. “And gave it to you, apparently.”
“Elysia…”
“Stop it! I’m allowed to be a bit depressed, right?” Elysia asks. “We’re locked up. We’re sentenced to death. Can’t I be a bit morose?”
“No,” Taloy says, his lips quirking in what Elysia has learned is his version of a smile.
“Not even a little bit?”
“No. Not the slightest.”
“Damn it, Taloy! You’re incorrigible.”
“I hope so.” His fingers haven’t left her cheek; now he runs them through her hair and pulls her head forward so their foreheads touch. Elysia closes her eyes and sighs. “We’ll get out of here,” Taloy says again, his breath warm in puffs across her cheek. Something shivers in her stomach.
“I believe you,” she says, and she does, strangely. Taloy is certain, and there’s something comforting about that.
“Do you?” he asks. He’s closer now—she can almost feel his lips against her cheek, his breath sliding up to her ear.
“Absolutely,” she says, and means it, and he knows. And then he kisses her, gently, but purposefully, lips brushing against hers. Elysia smiles, and Taloy can feel it against his mouth, and he lets out a puff of air that would be a laugh if there had been voice to it.
Elysia’s hand comes up, brushes through the scruffy silk of Taloy’s hair and pulls him closer, and he is only too glad to kiss her again, harder this time, and her fingers curl into his hair to pull him in, as if he could be any closer than he is already.
It is several seconds later when Elysia suddenly pulls away. Taloy does the same, somewhat reluctantly, and looks up to see a confused expression on her face. “What are we doing?” she asks. It’s a genuine question.
Taloy blinks. “Kissing,” he says.
Elysia still looks confused. It isn’t the action itself that confuses her, but why they’re doing it. Even after Lucero became Taloy became friend, she hasn’t thought of this. The dynamic has shifted.
“Do you want me to stop?” Taloy asks, doing an admirable job, he thinks, of keeping the apprehension out of his voice. It isn’t the end of the world, he reminds himself, if she says yes. There are other girls. But Taloy knows with the utmost certainty that there aren’t. Not like Elysia anyway. Not for him.
Elysia glances away for a moment, as though the answer is on the floor. Then she looks back up at him and the corner of her mouth turns up. “No,” she says, because it’s true.
Taloy smiles, a wide, glorious smile that leaves nothing behind, and that smile, Elysia thinks as he leans in, is worth anything.
There is a much longer interval, and nothing is said for some time. Then Elysia feels a tingle running through her palm on the floor, different from the curling shivers in her belly and having nothing to do with Taloy’s kisses. “He’s coming,” she says, breaking away. “He’s on the first stair.”
“Shit,” Taloy says fervently.
“I can still save—”
“No!” Taloy says, almost angrily. “I’m not leaving you here to be killed all alone.”
In spite of his seriousness, Elysia has to smile at the melodrama of the statement. She presses her palm to the floor again. “First floor.” She turns to face him. “Taloy. Listen. I know it’s weird, and we squabble all the time—”
“You start it.”
“I do not!”
“Do too.”
“Shut up! I love you, all right? That’s all. Whatever happens.”
Taloy smiles. “Whatever happens,” he agrees, and hugs her tightly, forehead to shoulder, hands on waist. Elysia can feel the house telling her where A. is—on the second stair, coming down the hall, in front of the door—
“Here goes,” Elysia whispers.
Taloy grins. There is a stubbornness and mischievousness in that expression that Elysia recognizes from herself, and she grins back. Ready.
The door opens.
(EDIT: Of course I lurve comments (and yes I will squee in delight), but please do give me feedback too...if you liked it, why, and vice versa. Naka's off the hook though. :))
Elysia feels Taloy’s fingers, feather-light, touch her cheek, run along her jaw. She bites her lip. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Her throat feels constricted, and her eyes ache from refusing to let tears out. Don’t cry, dammit. It won’t help.
“Elysia,” Taloy says, his voice a whisper even though A. has left. “We’ll be all right.”
Elysia makes a noise, somewhere between a hiccup and a derisive laugh. It makes her throat feel rough. “Since when are you the optimist?” she asks, looking up into Taloy’s eyes. He is smiling, his expression lacking in any of the sarcasm or formality she’s so used to seeing there.
“Since you stopped,” Taloy says. “Where’s your unfailing sense of humor?”
“A. stole it,” Elysia, although there is the twist of a smile around her mouth. “And gave it to you, apparently.”
“Elysia…”
“Stop it! I’m allowed to be a bit depressed, right?” Elysia asks. “We’re locked up. We’re sentenced to death. Can’t I be a bit morose?”
“No,” Taloy says, his lips quirking in what Elysia has learned is his version of a smile.
“Not even a little bit?”
“No. Not the slightest.”
“Damn it, Taloy! You’re incorrigible.”
“I hope so.” His fingers haven’t left her cheek; now he runs them through her hair and pulls her head forward so their foreheads touch. Elysia closes her eyes and sighs. “We’ll get out of here,” Taloy says again, his breath warm in puffs across her cheek. Something shivers in her stomach.
“I believe you,” she says, and she does, strangely. Taloy is certain, and there’s something comforting about that.
“Do you?” he asks. He’s closer now—she can almost feel his lips against her cheek, his breath sliding up to her ear.
“Absolutely,” she says, and means it, and he knows. And then he kisses her, gently, but purposefully, lips brushing against hers. Elysia smiles, and Taloy can feel it against his mouth, and he lets out a puff of air that would be a laugh if there had been voice to it.
Elysia’s hand comes up, brushes through the scruffy silk of Taloy’s hair and pulls him closer, and he is only too glad to kiss her again, harder this time, and her fingers curl into his hair to pull him in, as if he could be any closer than he is already.
It is several seconds later when Elysia suddenly pulls away. Taloy does the same, somewhat reluctantly, and looks up to see a confused expression on her face. “What are we doing?” she asks. It’s a genuine question.
Taloy blinks. “Kissing,” he says.
Elysia still looks confused. It isn’t the action itself that confuses her, but why they’re doing it. Even after Lucero became Taloy became friend, she hasn’t thought of this. The dynamic has shifted.
“Do you want me to stop?” Taloy asks, doing an admirable job, he thinks, of keeping the apprehension out of his voice. It isn’t the end of the world, he reminds himself, if she says yes. There are other girls. But Taloy knows with the utmost certainty that there aren’t. Not like Elysia anyway. Not for him.
Elysia glances away for a moment, as though the answer is on the floor. Then she looks back up at him and the corner of her mouth turns up. “No,” she says, because it’s true.
Taloy smiles, a wide, glorious smile that leaves nothing behind, and that smile, Elysia thinks as he leans in, is worth anything.
There is a much longer interval, and nothing is said for some time. Then Elysia feels a tingle running through her palm on the floor, different from the curling shivers in her belly and having nothing to do with Taloy’s kisses. “He’s coming,” she says, breaking away. “He’s on the first stair.”
“Shit,” Taloy says fervently.
“I can still save—”
“No!” Taloy says, almost angrily. “I’m not leaving you here to be killed all alone.”
In spite of his seriousness, Elysia has to smile at the melodrama of the statement. She presses her palm to the floor again. “First floor.” She turns to face him. “Taloy. Listen. I know it’s weird, and we squabble all the time—”
“You start it.”
“I do not!”
“Do too.”
“Shut up! I love you, all right? That’s all. Whatever happens.”
Taloy smiles. “Whatever happens,” he agrees, and hugs her tightly, forehead to shoulder, hands on waist. Elysia can feel the house telling her where A. is—on the second stair, coming down the hall, in front of the door—
“Here goes,” Elysia whispers.
Taloy grins. There is a stubbornness and mischievousness in that expression that Elysia recognizes from herself, and she grins back. Ready.
The door opens.
(EDIT: Of course I lurve comments (and yes I will squee in delight), but please do give me feedback too...if you liked it, why, and vice versa. Naka's off the hook though. :))
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no subject
Date: 2004-09-26 07:38 am (UTC)Gaaaah!
Date: 2004-09-26 08:05 pm (UTC)*falls over*
Alright, so I *have* read what you're talking about, and this is ever so brilliant. Lemony, lemony goodness.
Mmm.
*wishes, for the fourty billionth time, that she could write in a way that would even make people say "that kind of reminds me of a Kenna Kettrick I read a while ago". Is happy.*
-Lyssa
ps-- More coherent sentences to follow, once brain is working.