the fourth
Inspiration: “Don’t say goodbye. ‘Cause I don’t wanna hear those words tonight. ‘Cause maybe it’s not the end for you and I. And although we knew, this time would come for me and you, don’t say anything tonight, if you’re gonna say goodbye.” - Skillet ; Say Goodbye
G o o d b y e
- - -
At first, she doesn’t know what to feel, what to think, what to say. There are words, just underneath the surface, at the back of her throat, begging to be said, to be heard. There are tears, raw at the back of her eyes and pleading to creep forward and glimmer at the edges of her eyelashes. There’s a scent, a once beautiful scent that feels so stale, so hollow, so sad. There’s an emptiness at the edge of the bed, at the end of the room, at the windowsill. There’s no presence there, brooding, pondering and wishing. The air is both thick and thin, suffocating and squeezing the lungs trapped in her ribcage. She wants so badly to whimper, to cry and to ask why.
Yet all she can do is stand there.
Even as hands, such soft and sweet hands, shuffle in the dresser, sweeping back and forth between each article of clothing; she’s packing and all she can do is stand there. She watches that mane of oaken hair, so pale it’s almost tawny. Those feathery wisps drift back and forth as that back moves, bending and arching, away from her and to her, but never close enough to touch. This ache, the agony rising in her chest, crushing bone and tissue; she doesn’t want to feel like this. Then suddenly there’s a snap; hands pick up the suitcase and she’s moving past her, out the door, out of her life. She wants to take back those angry words, cutting words said before; they only made her hurt. Yesterday they were laughing, so carefree and happy. Today there’s nothing, but pain.
“Natsuki…”
One word, one soft agonizingly hushed word; it fills her to the brim with nostalgia and she only desires for those happy days. Where did the good times go? She turns and faces her, sets her evergreen eyes on those russet hues. She hopes, she wishes, she wants, and she can’t say anything. A broken smile, a glimmer of regret and a thousand unsaid words; she doesn’t want to believe it’s over, neither of them do. Her hands clutch her suitcase; hers grip the edge of the bed’s foot. Shizuru opens her mouth once more, wishes to say one last thing, but stumbles and stutters and cries over lost words. Natsuki breaks, reaches up and grabs Shizuru’s arm. She looks at her and wants, wishes for her.
“Natsuki I…”
“Don’t.”
“Natsuki?”
“Don’t say goodbye.”
“Natsuki…”
And then she’s gone, with a whispered promise not to say goodbye, a last kiss, on the cheek, never the lips, and a broken soul. Natsuki stands there, stands even when the clock strikes past the hours and when the sun is high in the sky, gleaming through her window. She stands until the dawn is over and the night has settled. She stands and wishes to take back words, fix the wrongs and bring forth the right. She stands and part of her doesn’t understand yet part of her does.
Natsuki decided then, she hated saying goodbye.
- - -
I wrote this based off, obviously the song, but not just that. I know I'm going to get smacked for this, but recently
winter_solace18 and I were speculating our ideas. :P And well, we were listening to Skillet's The Older I Get and got the same idea so we thought about co-authoring a fic. Writing this drabble and listening to Say Goodbye just kinda reinforced that idea. Dunno why I'm saying this. O_o; Just felt like it. Hint: The fic would be based off both The Older I Get and Say Goodbye. ;3 If you wanna see what we have in store for this idea, check 'em out.
G o o d b y e
- - -
At first, she doesn’t know what to feel, what to think, what to say. There are words, just underneath the surface, at the back of her throat, begging to be said, to be heard. There are tears, raw at the back of her eyes and pleading to creep forward and glimmer at the edges of her eyelashes. There’s a scent, a once beautiful scent that feels so stale, so hollow, so sad. There’s an emptiness at the edge of the bed, at the end of the room, at the windowsill. There’s no presence there, brooding, pondering and wishing. The air is both thick and thin, suffocating and squeezing the lungs trapped in her ribcage. She wants so badly to whimper, to cry and to ask why.
Yet all she can do is stand there.
Even as hands, such soft and sweet hands, shuffle in the dresser, sweeping back and forth between each article of clothing; she’s packing and all she can do is stand there. She watches that mane of oaken hair, so pale it’s almost tawny. Those feathery wisps drift back and forth as that back moves, bending and arching, away from her and to her, but never close enough to touch. This ache, the agony rising in her chest, crushing bone and tissue; she doesn’t want to feel like this. Then suddenly there’s a snap; hands pick up the suitcase and she’s moving past her, out the door, out of her life. She wants to take back those angry words, cutting words said before; they only made her hurt. Yesterday they were laughing, so carefree and happy. Today there’s nothing, but pain.
“Natsuki…”
One word, one soft agonizingly hushed word; it fills her to the brim with nostalgia and she only desires for those happy days. Where did the good times go? She turns and faces her, sets her evergreen eyes on those russet hues. She hopes, she wishes, she wants, and she can’t say anything. A broken smile, a glimmer of regret and a thousand unsaid words; she doesn’t want to believe it’s over, neither of them do. Her hands clutch her suitcase; hers grip the edge of the bed’s foot. Shizuru opens her mouth once more, wishes to say one last thing, but stumbles and stutters and cries over lost words. Natsuki breaks, reaches up and grabs Shizuru’s arm. She looks at her and wants, wishes for her.
“Natsuki I…”
“Don’t.”
“Natsuki?”
“Don’t say goodbye.”
“Natsuki…”
And then she’s gone, with a whispered promise not to say goodbye, a last kiss, on the cheek, never the lips, and a broken soul. Natsuki stands there, stands even when the clock strikes past the hours and when the sun is high in the sky, gleaming through her window. She stands until the dawn is over and the night has settled. She stands and wishes to take back words, fix the wrongs and bring forth the right. She stands and part of her doesn’t understand yet part of her does.
Natsuki decided then, she hated saying goodbye.
- - -
I wrote this based off, obviously the song, but not just that. I know I'm going to get smacked for this, but recently
winter_solace18 and I were speculating our ideas. :P And well, we were listening to Skillet's The Older I Get and got the same idea so we thought about co-authoring a fic. Writing this drabble and listening to Say Goodbye just kinda reinforced that idea. Dunno why I'm saying this. O_o; Just felt like it. Hint: The fic would be based off both The Older I Get and Say Goodbye. ;3 If you wanna see what we have in store for this idea, check 'em out.