(no subject)
Hi guys,
first time posting.
I just wrote a fanfic, and I don't have a fanfic.net account yet, and Im not sure if I should even make one to post this or not.
So Im putting it up here first. (:
also, idk what to call it D:
so suggestions would be nice.
rating: M
Pairing: SayaxHaji, SolomonxSaya
Summary: Saya's thoughts on her life, if Haji had died at the MET. "Waking up without him, was like trying to breathe with no air, as it has been everyday since."
(its set like years after btw, maybe like 60 years later.)
It all starts with the first sip of wine at supper, followed by another sip, and another. Untill half or more of the bottle is gone, and Im asking for another glass. He's not one to say no, he smiles and pours another, taking a sip from his own glass. He holds the alchohal much better than I do.
Soon enough my eyes are drooping, and my words are slurring. And he keeps asking if I want him to take me to our bedroom. I have shaken my head and said no, more then twice just tonight. But like any other night, he just smiles as I finish my sixth glass, gets out of his chair, and picks me up.
I used to not be much of a drinker, but that was before. I can handle, blood and battles. But the loss of him makes me dizzy and teary-eyed just thinking of it. Waking up without him, was like trying to breathe with no air, as it has been everyday since. At first my family took care of me, Kai and everyone tried to cheer me up and distract me. That's when he showed up.
In his fancy car, with a shining smile, and sun bouncing off his hair and face. It's not a bad thing, Solomon is very kind, and he really does love me.
I just don't feel the same.
He started stopping by at the Omoro, and taking me out to fancy dinners, and spontanious trips around the world. But no matter how long the smiles lasted, I would see it out of the corner of my eye, sitting in the corner, forgotton and abandoned. The dusty old thing just sits there now. No more sounds come from it. No one touches it.
Except me of course.
To put my hand on the case, and slowly dust it off. I could never let it get dusty or dirty, although opening the case would be a different story. Opening it, would open the wound I've been trying to cover up with smiles. I just dont like letting it sit there forgotton, because I most certainly have not forgotton, and never will. The beautiful sounds that use to come from this instrument, are now haunting melodies that never stop playing in my head. At the same time as it is haunting, its comforting, the music always changes my mood, and lifts me up as much as it can. Just like it used too, just like he used too.
But of course, he isnt here. No one is watching over me, well not the person I want too. He's not there, and its an empty feeling, and an impossible thought, because he's always been here.
Always.
Kai passed away during my last long sleep,
as have everyone else. Except the twins, but their off living their own lives.
It's not as if I wasn't expecting this, everyone has been dropping off like flies.
They dont have the gift of eternal life, they could have. I could have given it to Kai.
But I can not, and never will replace him.
Sometimes, before I sleep, I wish that I will sleep forever, so that I can be peaceful, and dream.
Dream of him, dream of what our future what have been, what it could have been. And so that my mind, can simply picture that I'am dead as well. And that we are together, in death, in heaven or whatever comes after life. And so my heart can take a break, my eyes can stop stinging from tears, and I can see him, and hold him, and listen to him play the beautiful melodies.
But then I fall out of my peaceful sleep, and open my eyes, expecting, that last time was a horrible nightmare, and he will be there. Just like he used to be. But instead a green eyed, smiling Solomon is waiting for me. He's all I have now, not that I would mind just sitting around my tomb, I could lay still, and wait for sleep. And hide from watchful eyes, who try to make me smile and forget.
And try to make me love.
Solomon treats me to fancy dinners, and dresses, spas and pedicures. But no exotic fruit, or waterfall in Fiji can make me forget. Im an empty shell of memories, and I know that Solomon knows that.
And yet here we are, me sprawled across a luxurious bed, covered in silk sheets, imported of course. In a fancy dress, with layers of make up on my face, my hair, still short, is slightly curled, and tied up with an elegant clip. My eyes must be glossy from tears and alchohal, maybe my breathe isnt that well either. Solomon doesn't seem to mind, he's still smiling like always.
Eventually my dress is slipped off, and his suit lays forgotton on the floor. And his lips are all over mine, kissing me, I hardly kiss back, not that Solomon isn't a good kisser. I could just care less about this, I don't need it. But it makes Solomon happy, Im his wife anyways.
Our marriage had been quick, he got a priest, gave me a dress.
No something borrowed, something new, blue, or anything. Just a dress, a priest and two rings.
And a sunset on the beach.
If it had been a real wedding,
everyone would have been invited, if we had it before they passed away.
And there would be white, and pink everywhere.
A pink rose in my hair, and a pink rose on the tux.
The dining hall would be filled with laughter, and white clothed tables, with pale pink napkins. And roses in the middle of the tables,
and I would have been smiling and happy. The only tears shed, would be happy ones.
And of course, our first dance would be to a familiar cello peice.
Not played by the best, because he would be too busy.
Too busy dancing with me.
I could have said no, but why would I? Solomon has already decided to stay by me forever. Which Im grateful for, atleast Im not completly alone. And this makes him happy, and I owe him his happiness atleast.
His lips trail from my lips, down my neck, a nibble on my ear here or there, and a hand sliding up and down my thigh. My eyes roll, and lips part letting out a small moan. My arms are around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair.
Im a good actress.
Not that I dont get some pleasure out of this, it just feels wrong.
There should be no fancy silk sheets, or blonde hair between my fingers.
No cinniman sented candles, or any candles at all.
I doubt there would even be lights.
Just the moon, pouring through the window. And a dark cloak hitting the floor, a hair tie being tossed aside, one normal hand unbottoning my shirt, and the other holding me up, claws lightly scratching my back. Causing my breath to catch, my breath already raspy. Instead of taking a deep breathe, I'd keep kissing, and my hands would be busy with undressing him. There would be no hesitation, I wish for this, as would he. His name would slip from my lips as he kisses my neck, which would cause him to pull me closer.
Solomons name never slips from my lips, no ones name comes out of my mouth. But my mind is screaming at me, yelling that this is wrong, you shouldn't be doing this with this man. And the face I dream of will flash through my mind, and the tears will start again, a sob catches in my throaght, and goes unnoticed by Solomon, who is busy undoing my bra, and slidding down my underwear. Throwing his off as well.
The seconds that pass while he positions himself, make my mind go blank. I shut my eyes tightly, and a sad song starts playing in my head, one of loss and grief, a pleading song. As if every note is begging me to stop, to say something, to yell or run. But my eyes stay shut, and so does my mouth.
The pleasure comes in waves, the first, is shocking, and your body gets ready for the next, and the next.
Pain also comes along with these waves of pleasure, not from my body, but from my heart. As if every wave stabs it, over and over. Tears pour down my cheeks, and my eyes are burning. Solomon kisses them away, but more keep coming. The chords in the song get louder, and become soothing, trying to stop my tears, and end my sorrows, yet at the same time they sound full of sorrow.
Solomon's breath is fast and quick, and raspy, and he looks to be enjoying pure bliss, as the final wave comes, my name slips from his lips, my back arches and my grip tightens in his hair. I let out a loud sound too, letting out the pain I've been holding inside, my loud moan matching the final chord of the sorrowful, pleading song.
This would be different, were it with him. No painful sad songs, only waves of pleasure, and wispers of love into each others ears. Kisses exchanged, and looks full of love. No tears, no heataches, just love and pleasure, but mostly love.
Solomon wraps his arms around my waist from behind me, kisses my neck and wispers words of love. I shut my eyes, tighter this time. Because these arms should not be around my waist, and the person behind me should be taller, and darker haired, and should be the man I love. The man I could return the wispers of love too, and fall asleep in his arms, knowing he'll be there when I wake up.
As I finally lose my conciousness, I hear the all too familiar song beggining, my feet lifting off the ground of reality, and slipping into my dreams. And he's there, playing that song, just for me. And wispering I love you's and promising me to always be there. And I return and mean every word.
Because I love him too.
But when I wake, it will not be him, he will not be there always, just in my dreams. No wispers I can return, no touches I long for, no looks full of love.
Just fancy cars, expensive clothing, a sad song at the back of my mind,
a broken heart, a glass of wine at supper
and a lonely cello case.
fin.
first time posting.
I just wrote a fanfic, and I don't have a fanfic.net account yet, and Im not sure if I should even make one to post this or not.
So Im putting it up here first. (:
also, idk what to call it D:
so suggestions would be nice.
rating: M
Pairing: SayaxHaji, SolomonxSaya
Summary: Saya's thoughts on her life, if Haji had died at the MET. "Waking up without him, was like trying to breathe with no air, as it has been everyday since."
(its set like years after btw, maybe like 60 years later.)
It all starts with the first sip of wine at supper, followed by another sip, and another. Untill half or more of the bottle is gone, and Im asking for another glass. He's not one to say no, he smiles and pours another, taking a sip from his own glass. He holds the alchohal much better than I do.
Soon enough my eyes are drooping, and my words are slurring. And he keeps asking if I want him to take me to our bedroom. I have shaken my head and said no, more then twice just tonight. But like any other night, he just smiles as I finish my sixth glass, gets out of his chair, and picks me up.
I used to not be much of a drinker, but that was before. I can handle, blood and battles. But the loss of him makes me dizzy and teary-eyed just thinking of it. Waking up without him, was like trying to breathe with no air, as it has been everyday since. At first my family took care of me, Kai and everyone tried to cheer me up and distract me. That's when he showed up.
In his fancy car, with a shining smile, and sun bouncing off his hair and face. It's not a bad thing, Solomon is very kind, and he really does love me.
I just don't feel the same.
He started stopping by at the Omoro, and taking me out to fancy dinners, and spontanious trips around the world. But no matter how long the smiles lasted, I would see it out of the corner of my eye, sitting in the corner, forgotton and abandoned. The dusty old thing just sits there now. No more sounds come from it. No one touches it.
Except me of course.
To put my hand on the case, and slowly dust it off. I could never let it get dusty or dirty, although opening the case would be a different story. Opening it, would open the wound I've been trying to cover up with smiles. I just dont like letting it sit there forgotton, because I most certainly have not forgotton, and never will. The beautiful sounds that use to come from this instrument, are now haunting melodies that never stop playing in my head. At the same time as it is haunting, its comforting, the music always changes my mood, and lifts me up as much as it can. Just like it used too, just like he used too.
But of course, he isnt here. No one is watching over me, well not the person I want too. He's not there, and its an empty feeling, and an impossible thought, because he's always been here.
Always.
Kai passed away during my last long sleep,
as have everyone else. Except the twins, but their off living their own lives.
It's not as if I wasn't expecting this, everyone has been dropping off like flies.
They dont have the gift of eternal life, they could have. I could have given it to Kai.
But I can not, and never will replace him.
Sometimes, before I sleep, I wish that I will sleep forever, so that I can be peaceful, and dream.
Dream of him, dream of what our future what have been, what it could have been. And so that my mind, can simply picture that I'am dead as well. And that we are together, in death, in heaven or whatever comes after life. And so my heart can take a break, my eyes can stop stinging from tears, and I can see him, and hold him, and listen to him play the beautiful melodies.
But then I fall out of my peaceful sleep, and open my eyes, expecting, that last time was a horrible nightmare, and he will be there. Just like he used to be. But instead a green eyed, smiling Solomon is waiting for me. He's all I have now, not that I would mind just sitting around my tomb, I could lay still, and wait for sleep. And hide from watchful eyes, who try to make me smile and forget.
And try to make me love.
Solomon treats me to fancy dinners, and dresses, spas and pedicures. But no exotic fruit, or waterfall in Fiji can make me forget. Im an empty shell of memories, and I know that Solomon knows that.
And yet here we are, me sprawled across a luxurious bed, covered in silk sheets, imported of course. In a fancy dress, with layers of make up on my face, my hair, still short, is slightly curled, and tied up with an elegant clip. My eyes must be glossy from tears and alchohal, maybe my breathe isnt that well either. Solomon doesn't seem to mind, he's still smiling like always.
Eventually my dress is slipped off, and his suit lays forgotton on the floor. And his lips are all over mine, kissing me, I hardly kiss back, not that Solomon isn't a good kisser. I could just care less about this, I don't need it. But it makes Solomon happy, Im his wife anyways.
Our marriage had been quick, he got a priest, gave me a dress.
No something borrowed, something new, blue, or anything. Just a dress, a priest and two rings.
And a sunset on the beach.
If it had been a real wedding,
everyone would have been invited, if we had it before they passed away.
And there would be white, and pink everywhere.
A pink rose in my hair, and a pink rose on the tux.
The dining hall would be filled with laughter, and white clothed tables, with pale pink napkins. And roses in the middle of the tables,
and I would have been smiling and happy. The only tears shed, would be happy ones.
And of course, our first dance would be to a familiar cello peice.
Not played by the best, because he would be too busy.
Too busy dancing with me.
I could have said no, but why would I? Solomon has already decided to stay by me forever. Which Im grateful for, atleast Im not completly alone. And this makes him happy, and I owe him his happiness atleast.
His lips trail from my lips, down my neck, a nibble on my ear here or there, and a hand sliding up and down my thigh. My eyes roll, and lips part letting out a small moan. My arms are around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair.
Im a good actress.
Not that I dont get some pleasure out of this, it just feels wrong.
There should be no fancy silk sheets, or blonde hair between my fingers.
No cinniman sented candles, or any candles at all.
I doubt there would even be lights.
Just the moon, pouring through the window. And a dark cloak hitting the floor, a hair tie being tossed aside, one normal hand unbottoning my shirt, and the other holding me up, claws lightly scratching my back. Causing my breath to catch, my breath already raspy. Instead of taking a deep breathe, I'd keep kissing, and my hands would be busy with undressing him. There would be no hesitation, I wish for this, as would he. His name would slip from my lips as he kisses my neck, which would cause him to pull me closer.
Solomons name never slips from my lips, no ones name comes out of my mouth. But my mind is screaming at me, yelling that this is wrong, you shouldn't be doing this with this man. And the face I dream of will flash through my mind, and the tears will start again, a sob catches in my throaght, and goes unnoticed by Solomon, who is busy undoing my bra, and slidding down my underwear. Throwing his off as well.
The seconds that pass while he positions himself, make my mind go blank. I shut my eyes tightly, and a sad song starts playing in my head, one of loss and grief, a pleading song. As if every note is begging me to stop, to say something, to yell or run. But my eyes stay shut, and so does my mouth.
The pleasure comes in waves, the first, is shocking, and your body gets ready for the next, and the next.
Pain also comes along with these waves of pleasure, not from my body, but from my heart. As if every wave stabs it, over and over. Tears pour down my cheeks, and my eyes are burning. Solomon kisses them away, but more keep coming. The chords in the song get louder, and become soothing, trying to stop my tears, and end my sorrows, yet at the same time they sound full of sorrow.
Solomon's breath is fast and quick, and raspy, and he looks to be enjoying pure bliss, as the final wave comes, my name slips from his lips, my back arches and my grip tightens in his hair. I let out a loud sound too, letting out the pain I've been holding inside, my loud moan matching the final chord of the sorrowful, pleading song.
This would be different, were it with him. No painful sad songs, only waves of pleasure, and wispers of love into each others ears. Kisses exchanged, and looks full of love. No tears, no heataches, just love and pleasure, but mostly love.
Solomon wraps his arms around my waist from behind me, kisses my neck and wispers words of love. I shut my eyes, tighter this time. Because these arms should not be around my waist, and the person behind me should be taller, and darker haired, and should be the man I love. The man I could return the wispers of love too, and fall asleep in his arms, knowing he'll be there when I wake up.
As I finally lose my conciousness, I hear the all too familiar song beggining, my feet lifting off the ground of reality, and slipping into my dreams. And he's there, playing that song, just for me. And wispering I love you's and promising me to always be there. And I return and mean every word.
Because I love him too.
But when I wake, it will not be him, he will not be there always, just in my dreams. No wispers I can return, no touches I long for, no looks full of love.
Just fancy cars, expensive clothing, a sad song at the back of my mind,
a broken heart, a glass of wine at supper
and a lonely cello case.
fin.