[Fic] Goodbye | Milo, Camus. PG
Title: Goodbye
Author: Muzy
Series: Saint Seiya
Pairing: Scorpio Milo/Aquarius Camus
Rating: PG
Length: 561 words
Note: Spoilers for Twelve Temples
Aquarius was so silent he would have thought it was empty, Milo thought as he paused on the threshold. His hands briefly clenched into fists, and his eyes closed before he drew a deep a breath and forced himself to relax his hands. Yeah, he thought again, he would have thought it was empty, but he knew better. Camus was still inside, and he was still dead.
Milo's lips tightened into a bitter shadow of his usual smile. The same couldn't be said of Camus's student - he'd been revived by Athena. There was probably some reason for it, Milo reflected as he stepped inside, his heels ringing against the smooth stone floors. Some battle she saw coming, some mission she needed Cygnus for, maybe, but, Milo thought, his expression darkening, right now he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. He could only wonder why the hell she'd walked into this temple and revived Hyoga with a wave of her staff, and just left Camus dead.
He wanted to ask, Milo thought as he reached the center of the temple and stared across at where Camus lay, but he knew he wouldn't. And it didn't matter now anyway, he supposed. His steps slowed as he neared his best friend, and he dropped to his knees next to him, his hand brushing over a long skien of silky red hair. Camus was gone now, too far for even Athena to bring him back, and he was going to have to deal with it.
One of the others probably would have stopped him from doing this alone, Milo thought with a humorless smirk as he leaned over Camus, but he had to. Milo stripped off his glove and let his hand brush against Camus's ice-cold cheek. He had to say goodbye, and this was the only time he could do it.
"I miss you already," he whispered. He could feel tears burning in his eyes, and he blinked them away as his jaw tightened. "Damn you, Camus, you always did have to take things to extremes." He reached over and began to unfasten the Aquarius Cloth, starting with Camus's shoulders. "And everyone thinks I'm the dramatic one." Even now, Milo thought as he unfastened the chest plate and revealed the simple white shirt Camus always wore underneath, he half expected Camus to open his eyes and reply to him in that voice that still hadn't lost it's faint French accent. But he didn't. The fact was, Milo mused as he set the armor aside and let his hands smooth over Camus's shoulders, he wasn't ever going to hear Camus's voice ever again.
It was enough to make the tears start falling, and Milo bent his head until his forehead pressed against Camus's cold one, the hot tears falling onto Camus's face. "I loved you," he gritted out. "I still love you. I'm sorry I never said."
He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, how long he just let his emotions have free reign, but finally Milo leaned back. He brushed his tears off Camus's face, and unfastened the last of the cloth, leaving it all it all in a neat pile next to Camus, and smoothed Camus's hair down before he stood up. "Goodbye, Camus," he whispered. Then he spun on his heel and walked out.
He didn't look back.
Author: Muzy
Series: Saint Seiya
Pairing: Scorpio Milo/Aquarius Camus
Rating: PG
Length: 561 words
Note: Spoilers for Twelve Temples
Aquarius was so silent he would have thought it was empty, Milo thought as he paused on the threshold. His hands briefly clenched into fists, and his eyes closed before he drew a deep a breath and forced himself to relax his hands. Yeah, he thought again, he would have thought it was empty, but he knew better. Camus was still inside, and he was still dead.
Milo's lips tightened into a bitter shadow of his usual smile. The same couldn't be said of Camus's student - he'd been revived by Athena. There was probably some reason for it, Milo reflected as he stepped inside, his heels ringing against the smooth stone floors. Some battle she saw coming, some mission she needed Cygnus for, maybe, but, Milo thought, his expression darkening, right now he couldn't bring himself to give a damn. He could only wonder why the hell she'd walked into this temple and revived Hyoga with a wave of her staff, and just left Camus dead.
He wanted to ask, Milo thought as he reached the center of the temple and stared across at where Camus lay, but he knew he wouldn't. And it didn't matter now anyway, he supposed. His steps slowed as he neared his best friend, and he dropped to his knees next to him, his hand brushing over a long skien of silky red hair. Camus was gone now, too far for even Athena to bring him back, and he was going to have to deal with it.
One of the others probably would have stopped him from doing this alone, Milo thought with a humorless smirk as he leaned over Camus, but he had to. Milo stripped off his glove and let his hand brush against Camus's ice-cold cheek. He had to say goodbye, and this was the only time he could do it.
"I miss you already," he whispered. He could feel tears burning in his eyes, and he blinked them away as his jaw tightened. "Damn you, Camus, you always did have to take things to extremes." He reached over and began to unfasten the Aquarius Cloth, starting with Camus's shoulders. "And everyone thinks I'm the dramatic one." Even now, Milo thought as he unfastened the chest plate and revealed the simple white shirt Camus always wore underneath, he half expected Camus to open his eyes and reply to him in that voice that still hadn't lost it's faint French accent. But he didn't. The fact was, Milo mused as he set the armor aside and let his hands smooth over Camus's shoulders, he wasn't ever going to hear Camus's voice ever again.
It was enough to make the tears start falling, and Milo bent his head until his forehead pressed against Camus's cold one, the hot tears falling onto Camus's face. "I loved you," he gritted out. "I still love you. I'm sorry I never said."
He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that, how long he just let his emotions have free reign, but finally Milo leaned back. He brushed his tears off Camus's face, and unfastened the last of the cloth, leaving it all it all in a neat pile next to Camus, and smoothed Camus's hair down before he stood up. "Goodbye, Camus," he whispered. Then he spun on his heel and walked out.
He didn't look back.