(no subject)
17/4/04 04:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
minervasoloYork: Even the drunks are friendly.
It's a great place and it's a damn long way away. Like, above Wales. In my mind, only Scotland ought to be above Wales. I know there's some England up there, but that's just were mum comes from, not a real place (hey, it had fairies). And that's where I might be going to Uni, if I (a) get tehe grades and (b) get over my fear of the foreign language module. Still, it'll be fun taking Latin again [that's the bit where you point and luagh 'geek' at me].
Anyway, I'll be coming to Tor's thing tonight, but I don't know how long I'll stay, since the plan is currently to pack mum nad harry off to the cinema while I'm at the party, and go home when they're done. I'm fine with that, because tired, and busy much tomorrow.
I like having things planned. It's all organised. Eee, plans ^_^
Meanwhile, I thingy I wrote a while back. Kind of WK inspired (Nagi/Omi), but there are no names and it slipped into slightly more grandoise, and it's very short. So it's little gay soildier boys instead.
All’s Fair
Since that night I have killed kings and laid low clergy, but the only blood that stains my fingers is that of his still-broken heart.
We sat, watching the camps, treason in our love. We’d never even touched. It wasn’t that type of love. I don’t think I even knew his favourite food, or colour, or any other lover’s miscellanea like that. He was just beautiful and out of reach.
“I wish I could ask...” he faltered.
“Don’t. I can’t be that selfless.”
“I don’t think I can either.”
“I know.”
Our hands touched, and a shooting star rained bitterness on our comrades. We sat in silence, finger to finger. Him the picture of light, me the picture of dark. We both knew who would be the villain of the piece when all was said and done. I always had it in my blood. Even though the winner writes the history book, I know that this time, the bad guys won.
I wonder, staring at the blank eyes and slack face slumped before me, if I don’t encourage these things to happen to me. I take some dark delight in tragedy. It justifies how I feel.
And it was so exquisitely sad, under the stars.
“I hope we never see each other again,” he said softly.
“Yes.” I began to pull my hand away, but he grabbed it, and his hand was hot and damp.
“Don’t leave yet,” he whispered. “Please.”
“It would be better,” I told him, but I didn’t really want to go anyway.
“I just wish we could stay here forever,” he told me, holding my hand tightly in his and pulling me to sit a little closer than I had before. “I wish all this could be averted.”
“You wish I could say that I loved you so much I’d fight with you, not against,” I told him.
“That too,” he admits with a shy smile. “I know that’s not who you are, though.”
“It’s good one of us does,” I swallowed. If he had asked, then, I might have said yes. He asked something else instead.
“Might I kiss you?”
I can’t remember what he tasted like, or whether his lips were hot or cold, or how wet they were. I know we both cried a little bit.
And we sat and held hands until the stars were gone. And then I kissed him again, just softly, and didn’t say goodbye.
I never saw him again. I have at least that comfort.
It's a great place and it's a damn long way away. Like, above Wales. In my mind, only Scotland ought to be above Wales. I know there's some England up there, but that's just were mum comes from, not a real place (hey, it had fairies). And that's where I might be going to Uni, if I (a) get tehe grades and (b) get over my fear of the foreign language module. Still, it'll be fun taking Latin again [that's the bit where you point and luagh 'geek' at me].
Anyway, I'll be coming to Tor's thing tonight, but I don't know how long I'll stay, since the plan is currently to pack mum nad harry off to the cinema while I'm at the party, and go home when they're done. I'm fine with that, because tired, and busy much tomorrow.
I like having things planned. It's all organised. Eee, plans ^_^
Meanwhile, I thingy I wrote a while back. Kind of WK inspired (Nagi/Omi), but there are no names and it slipped into slightly more grandoise, and it's very short. So it's little gay soildier boys instead.
All’s Fair
Since that night I have killed kings and laid low clergy, but the only blood that stains my fingers is that of his still-broken heart.
We sat, watching the camps, treason in our love. We’d never even touched. It wasn’t that type of love. I don’t think I even knew his favourite food, or colour, or any other lover’s miscellanea like that. He was just beautiful and out of reach.
“I wish I could ask...” he faltered.
“Don’t. I can’t be that selfless.”
“I don’t think I can either.”
“I know.”
Our hands touched, and a shooting star rained bitterness on our comrades. We sat in silence, finger to finger. Him the picture of light, me the picture of dark. We both knew who would be the villain of the piece when all was said and done. I always had it in my blood. Even though the winner writes the history book, I know that this time, the bad guys won.
I wonder, staring at the blank eyes and slack face slumped before me, if I don’t encourage these things to happen to me. I take some dark delight in tragedy. It justifies how I feel.
And it was so exquisitely sad, under the stars.
“I hope we never see each other again,” he said softly.
“Yes.” I began to pull my hand away, but he grabbed it, and his hand was hot and damp.
“Don’t leave yet,” he whispered. “Please.”
“It would be better,” I told him, but I didn’t really want to go anyway.
“I just wish we could stay here forever,” he told me, holding my hand tightly in his and pulling me to sit a little closer than I had before. “I wish all this could be averted.”
“You wish I could say that I loved you so much I’d fight with you, not against,” I told him.
“That too,” he admits with a shy smile. “I know that’s not who you are, though.”
“It’s good one of us does,” I swallowed. If he had asked, then, I might have said yes. He asked something else instead.
“Might I kiss you?”
I can’t remember what he tasted like, or whether his lips were hot or cold, or how wet they were. I know we both cried a little bit.
And we sat and held hands until the stars were gone. And then I kissed him again, just softly, and didn’t say goodbye.
I never saw him again. I have at least that comfort.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 18/4/04 08:25 am (UTC)And cute story! *more sniffles*.
no subject
Date: 19/4/04 12:12 am (UTC)I like Latin. I can not speak a blind word of French or Spanish, but doing Latin makes me look like I ought to be able to. More schools should do it. It looks so British ^_^
no subject
Date: 19/4/04 02:45 pm (UTC)Sadly my Latin isn't all that much better than non-existent. Yeah, it should be compulsory for the Classics and the native languages to be offered in all schools, in my opinion.
no subject
Date: 20/4/04 12:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 20/4/04 12:46 pm (UTC)