An Art Lost
It is enough to wreck anyone, and it does bring him to his knees; how can one accept a thing like that, how can one go on knowing something like that, how can one go on, knowing that the sky will forever be silent?
She is a firework forever moving; dancing; laughing and he is like the fly stuck in her web; but she does not kill; she dances, far away, just visible, never allowing him to forget; and in her light he delights.
There will never be a choice for them, because even if they can go, there will still be a string attached, a string unharmed by time and betrayal; a string that tears them from arms of lovers, from lives they have lived; and the aching becomes no easier with time; only before dark blue eyes can they be free.
He would do it more often, he decided, as Minako slid of his lap and landed in a heap on the floor into Kunzites chest, beside the table, where Nephrite sung softly; or maybe he just slurred.
Lord of the Dance, but not the scary one.
He wasn't aware of the looks he got; he didn't try; he didn't notice; he didn't want; he was to scared of all those smells of decadence, of femme fatale, or the thought that nothing was real.
The bow, large and colourful, had to go and she was sorry, very, as the bow untied and the silky ends caressed her legs, but really, his hands felt so much better on bare skin.
Zoi really hated Valentines day, and the only reason he did it was that he liked Mercurys expression as he came tripping with the wings Serenity'd given him, pretending to be Hermes, leaving letters, saving the last for her, and really, it could have been worse; Kunzite had to play Eros.
He could never last the night; he knew it and so did every one else, that he could see on Michirus smirk as she whispered in Harukas ears and made her laugh a very deep laugh, the way that Minako twinkled and how Rei had placed herself with her feet visible, slowly rubbing her calves together, never leaving his eyes.
"Really", said Zoi, when the girls forgot all about the him, crouching by the computer, "I fail to see appeal."
He had never pictured her being the one using a camera, and yet she were, bringing it along everywhere, taking pictures of everything she saw, focusing, her grip tight as if she was afraid of dropping it, always shaky, making the pictures dim, and but when she took tree hundred photographs of her hair, he took it from her; he had never seen her as broken as then.
Beauty is Pain
She closes his eyes the first moment as she enters the throne room, as if in pain, as if in ecstasy; as if she could close out the wold for a moment; because truly, how can she ever handle something as great as this, and then she opens her eyes and breaths deeply, because breathing is always hard when you love someone.
"Let me take my love and bury it in a hole that's six foot deep"
He never thinks of her; he has no photo of her in his wallet, he has never cried her name in his sleep, he does not look for her among people at the streets, desperately, as if his life depends on it, he hasn't shred a tear and her green eyes does not haunt him like the ghost he knows she isn't.
Yo mama's on top of my things to do list
There had only been one time that Nephrite could remember that he had been hit by Jadeite, and hard, but really, he could not bring himself to regret it.
Did I ask for much? More than I got; you gave me nothing now it's all I've got.
To watch a loved ones leave you can never be anything but miserable, and yet he stands there, for hours, looking at the place where he was abandoned, as if standing there for long enough will rewind time and let the outcome be different; he wonders if he can ever leave, if the freedom he has been given is enough when he has lived another mans life, another mans dream and if he can ever pick his pieces back together again.