bestbefore2009
we went to buy them together.
or maybe i went to buy them alone, and your mind was somewhere else while your corporeal body drifted next to me, in and out of existence. you said they were pretty. and i agreed. they are very pretty. even now, with a thin layer of dust over their surface, they look delicate and look more fitting to someone of blueblood heritage. how funny... it's the only thing that was ever dignified in this home. even more so than our relationship as it is now.
we went to buy them together.
i don't allow myself a second of hesitation before i smash them with my open hand.
i'll never get to capture you.
you're so many things in a person at once, all fire, all soft, kind and gentle but callous, sharp, honest and cold, with the warmest brown eyes but the snidest, most cutting glances. you're a contradiction in a piece, a mystery by all regards, but a wonder by my judgement. the curve of your mouth is more often a sneer than a smile, but you have the most truthful smile. you are my favorite scent, the small snippet of joy, a rush of wings, or perhaps a heartbeat, if only there was just a little more - more film, more lighting, if your hand was mine;
(i never got to capture you.)
"you see them?" you say carelessly, waving a pale hand towards the invisible barrier between us and them, unbroken glass, clear and clandestine. "they'll never be like us," you continue, sweeping your bangs out of your eyes, eyes dark and flickering with some unknown emotion in the muted light. you never say that we'll never be like /them/, though we both know that's much more honest than the former. i don't answer you, instead reaching forward and holding your hand within my own. your inky wings flare with unease for a moment before they still, and we both look towards the others together in an unspoken wish. they're...builders, creators, out of our reach, something we'll never become. and we; i suppose we only know how to destroy.
and he's off, feet against the dirt, racing the sunlight, arms stretched out in front of him, mouth agape in a breathless gasp and he chases the wind, tossing his head. his eyes are bright and flickering as he peers over the open air, holding onto nothing, mouth curved into a sharp, raw grin. he says he chases the adrenaline and the vertigo and the fun, but you can't help but think differently. sometimes when he thinks you're not looking, he just seems lost. (somehow uncertain, betrayed, broken.)
the moment he steps forward and slips into his awaiting arms, his pale eyes seem to drain of exhaustion, instead glowing faintly in the muted light, as though the life within was threatening to spill out. he holds on tight to the other boy, his hands desperate in their searching but kind in their touch. he lets out a long exhale and buries his head in his hair, listening to the other's affectionate laugh. it's a supernova in the shadows; an oasis in the dark.
there's a melancholy in this hall, like all of the students that ever been here were lingering faintly like kind ghosts peering out of the shadows. a faint breeze picks up the heavy curtains and sends them swishing over the glass, and i walk slowly up to the stage. not long ago, i had been up there, mcing an event with all the nonchalance in the world; and yet now the floorboards creak under my feet and the lights are off, and i feel even the hall itself is not ready to go.
i supposed that's what happened when things are deemed old and needing repair.
oh god, i'm in love with you.
i didn't know. well, maybe i did, but i didn't think too hard about it.
i saw you in a dream last night. we were together, and we were happy.
/you/ were happy. and that was the most important thing.
i'm terrified. what do i do now when i see you? my heart seems to stutter and i feel more self conscious than i usually am. my hands get shaky and i suddenly stumble over my own words. my chest feels like it's breaking apart. but you know what really scares me? that this is only the tip of the iceberg. it's only going to go down from here.
(please catch me.)
you haunt my dreams like a ghost, a lingering shadow always behind a door, a whisper, a dream, an idea. you stalk my thoughts like a wolf does its prey, except this time the lamb would easily succumb under its claws, because i melt under your eyes as swiftly as the morning dew, relenting, blue fumes swallowed in red.
- i've always loved you.
there is so much tension in the air that i feel like i could faint. there's words traveling through the room, but all of them pointless, and meaningless in a ridiculous way. she perches as a lady should on the edge of her chair, all grace and poise, and he stands there by the clock, eyes grappling to find somewhere to focus on without embarrassment. "five years next september," he says automatically when she touches on how long they haven't met. i almost lunge across the room to strangle hiim, because what happened to the self conscious man that would so easily call me "old sport"? when she talked, all five years of being jay gatsby unraveled until only the young boy remained.
you are fire and flame, red tongues licking up the sky, bursts of power coming to existence in the form of explosions. you are not just a person, no, you are you. you are the sensation of sharp vertigo, of dropping onto earth from a high altitude, of the contrast between black and white. you are the both the first damp gleam of sunlight and it at its peak - you are a contradiction, and that's what makes you the you i love so much.
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