Name: Zanthra
Email:
MediaMiner under author name Zanthra; LJ
Title: Soft and Quiet, the absence Hurts
Word Count: 458
Category: General
Pairings: 1+2
Warnings: Sap, angst, shounen ai, Duo's POV
The thunder outside is growing. It vibrates in my chest and against the windowpanes. The lightning that follows seems to split the sky in half, tearing through it like not so much paper. I am in bed, and even as I lie here trying to sleep, the rain grows heavier. A shot rings out in the night and its mate illuminates the whole of my room. I clutch tightly to the pillow- his pillow.
In my defense, I am not afraid of thunderstorms. Rather, itÔŅĹs because of his absence that I hold it tightly. The pillow smells like him- like gunpowder and sweat and something all his own.ÔŅĹ I miss him; miss hearing the shallow breaths of sleep and the soft rustle of cotton sheets as he moves.
He only smiles when heÔŅĹs sleeping. I think thatÔŅĹs what I miss the most.
There was a raid this evening- a base with technology and information that needed ÔŅĹrenovationsÔŅĹ. I helped him make the bombs, saying it would go quicker that way. Afterward, he disappeared, a shadow in the night and rain. They would never see him coming, but, then again, thatÔŅĹs the point isnÔŅĹt it? To me, spending time with him was what mattered.
I donÔŅĹt know when IÔŅĹll see him nextÔŅĹ
There is a certain pull, gravity even, between us. To be friends and partnersÔŅĹ For him thatÔŅĹs a real show of trust. I return this gesture wholly, knowing how few have been in my place, willing to do anything in my power to help him; to break through the layers of ice left by the training and solitude. To deny my love for him would be a lie, but IÔŅĹm not ready to admit to it. I wonÔŅĹt say how much I miss him either, and that doesnÔŅĹt make it any less true. What we do or do not say doesnÔŅĹt matter for now- with the war going on, a person canÔŅĹt always rely on words. By being there for him, I can do without the rest until the time comes when promises may be made. PromisesÔŅĹ without the fear of them being broken.
The rain has slowed, becoming no more than a spattering of water; no worse than what still drip from the trees once it quits altogether. The thunder has gone as well, leaving only the yellow-grey of the clouds to peer in through the glass of my window. In spite of all of this, I still hug tight to his pillow. ItÔŅĹs soft and warm against my cheek, and the scent of him is taken in with every breath. To fall asleep, as the rain tapers furtherÔŅĹ I manage it, and, sinking into the darkness of dreams, I know I will see him again.