vrai24
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cranky_zen
Challenge poetry fic! Eternity
Title: Eternity (this month challenge: Poetry)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Matt Flannery/Charlie Crews
Genre: AU, Crossover
Summary: "who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out eternity"
Disclaimer: Sadly nothing is mine
Author's note: It's from mardia 's universe (love it so much) in which Charlie refuse to see Matt for six months, this happens at the first meeting after that, but I'm not sure about the timeline, so bear with me. and that's my very first one, so please be gentle :)
Matt presses his fingers on the glass absently as waiting for Charlie, it's a little cold but solid enough to remind him its existence, he hopes that Charlie would see him today.
It has been six long months, he didn't even hear a whisper from him except that he refused to accept any visit or phonecall. He doesn't know what's going on in that red stubborn head, he has no clue, he understands all too well.
That stupid bastard, he starts cursing mutely.
Matt wants to yell, to scream at Charlie, want to break this damn glass wall, to break anything, anything between them. Though all he could do now is waiting.
He doesn't think much recently, probably doesn't want to think at all since that day. There's nothing to think of that wouldn't end up with Matt driving himself insane, this whole mess just doesn't make any sense.
No why, no cause, there's no coincidence, and definitely it's not fate.
How could he stops seeking the truth as living alone with it? God, he tried, they tried, the endless appeals, lawyers, it's not even a glimpse of light there, but he knows he'll keep trying, never give up. That's what he got left after all, the hope that they'll be together someday. Charlie can't quit now, not now, not ever.
He misses him so much, it nearly burns a hole out of him. The soft red hair, freckles, fingertips gently pressed into his skin, shallow breathes against his lips, light blue-green eyes with silent amusing, are all behind that cold indifferent glass wall now. He'd only helplessly waiting on the other side for the rest of his life.
No, why the hell he want to think about that? He wishes that Charlie will see him today, or next week, or someday, he'll see him eventually, that's for sure. and then nothing else matters.
He catches the red color from the corner of his eyes first, Charlie doesn't look so well: pale, tired, bruised with a split lip, it's odd, he rarely gets into fights nowadays, he never start it before. But he's here right in front of him.
Charlie puts his hand against Matt's despite the glass as picking up the phone, his eyes are so deep and unreadable, then he says,
"Hey."
He would say a lot, maybe yell or finally punch the glass wall, and none of this happened. Suddenly, he remembers these lonely ride to Pelican Bay with so much feeling no one can tell, he remembers some words of Allen Ginsberg he once read when he was so young like a lifetime ago:"who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out eternity", like a blue blur he thinks, he flexes his fingers on the glass, and thinks that he find his eternity now, at last.
So he gives Charlie a little smile and speaks with a shaky voice barely audible,
"Hey. "
End
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Matt Flannery/Charlie Crews
Genre: AU, Crossover
Summary: "who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out eternity"
Disclaimer: Sadly nothing is mine
Author's note: It's from mardia 's universe (love it so much) in which Charlie refuse to see Matt for six months, this happens at the first meeting after that, but I'm not sure about the timeline, so bear with me. and that's my very first one, so please be gentle :)
Matt presses his fingers on the glass absently as waiting for Charlie, it's a little cold but solid enough to remind him its existence, he hopes that Charlie would see him today.
It has been six long months, he didn't even hear a whisper from him except that he refused to accept any visit or phonecall. He doesn't know what's going on in that red stubborn head, he has no clue, he understands all too well.
That stupid bastard, he starts cursing mutely.
Matt wants to yell, to scream at Charlie, want to break this damn glass wall, to break anything, anything between them. Though all he could do now is waiting.
He doesn't think much recently, probably doesn't want to think at all since that day. There's nothing to think of that wouldn't end up with Matt driving himself insane, this whole mess just doesn't make any sense.
No why, no cause, there's no coincidence, and definitely it's not fate.
How could he stops seeking the truth as living alone with it? God, he tried, they tried, the endless appeals, lawyers, it's not even a glimpse of light there, but he knows he'll keep trying, never give up. That's what he got left after all, the hope that they'll be together someday. Charlie can't quit now, not now, not ever.
He misses him so much, it nearly burns a hole out of him. The soft red hair, freckles, fingertips gently pressed into his skin, shallow breathes against his lips, light blue-green eyes with silent amusing, are all behind that cold indifferent glass wall now. He'd only helplessly waiting on the other side for the rest of his life.
No, why the hell he want to think about that? He wishes that Charlie will see him today, or next week, or someday, he'll see him eventually, that's for sure. and then nothing else matters.
He catches the red color from the corner of his eyes first, Charlie doesn't look so well: pale, tired, bruised with a split lip, it's odd, he rarely gets into fights nowadays, he never start it before. But he's here right in front of him.
Charlie puts his hand against Matt's despite the glass as picking up the phone, his eyes are so deep and unreadable, then he says,
"Hey."
He would say a lot, maybe yell or finally punch the glass wall, and none of this happened. Suddenly, he remembers these lonely ride to Pelican Bay with so much feeling no one can tell, he remembers some words of Allen Ginsberg he once read when he was so young like a lifetime ago:"who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if I had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out eternity", like a blue blur he thinks, he flexes his fingers on the glass, and thinks that he find his eternity now, at last.
So he gives Charlie a little smile and speaks with a shaky voice barely audible,
"Hey. "
End