Entropy [Original, 1/1] -- HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIB!!!!!!!!!
Ah hem.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY direharbinger~~!!!!!!!!!!
So I was thinking of what to do. Then fell back on my old "May as well write her something @__@" thing. XDXDXD So something short and (relatively) sweet birthday fic!
I was thinking of writing Cid/Vincent, but then my mind broke and I didn't know what to write it on anyway
Title: Entropy
Fandom: Original
Characters: Kihreyn, Sezru
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: 3 : CHAOS, DISORGANIZATION, RANDOMNESS [Merriam-Webster]
Comments: Haha, do you know that Sezru now has his own folder on my computer? *dead* Short at about 700 words and totally for Dib. :3
Kihreyn wonders when he has stopped counting the years.
He forgets how old he is. Sometimes it feels like each day is brand new, glitz on every surface, a dark sheen across water. Other time he feels older than time itself. He can feel the years weighing into his bones, makes him imagine creaking sounds as he walks. Dust trickling from the palms of his hands. Ash in his mouth.
He is older than he has ever thought he would be. Would be far older when it all ends (will it end?).
“Kihreyn. Kihreynnn.”
A light through darkness. Or maybe shadow against shadow. Only he could feel it glide across his senses, murky darkness that swallows more than light: it swallows everything in its path. He can’t help but welcome it though with spread out arms, closing his eyes and resigning himself to the inevitable. Sezru is a tidal wave.
Kihreyn turns at the soft step, finds himself helplessly-as helpless as one swept away by a flood-pulled towards Sezru who is looking at him with bright eyes that eclipses the garishly decorated box in his hands. Sezru is eternal. Kihreyn would find himself dying to keep it that way. He wonders just when he was pulled into the other fae’s orbit, when it was he found himself hovering as the moon to the earth-or perhaps a planet to the sun.
Gravity anchors him, but not to the ground. It tugs him towards that slender fae who is smiling at him, a wicked gleam in Sezru’s eyes.
“Kihreyn,” Sezru coos.
“Yes?” He ignores the slight hoarseness in his voice. It happens often around Sezru.
Kihreyn blinks as the box in Sezru’s hands is thrust at him and he takes it awkwardly. It feels too light, as if it is just cardboard and paper and air. But it is from Sezru, so he cradles it as gently as one holds a baby bird.
“What’s this?” He asks, now noticing how poorly the paper-bright red and orange-fits, the tears at the edges, the visible tape. Somehow between his observation and his question, Sezru has stepped closer to him, leaning towards him with a mischievous smile, lashes brushing at his cheeks.
Oh, oh. But Kihreyn is used to Sezru’s idiosyncrasies by now that while his breath catches, he isn’t scrambling to get away or to lean closer. He just stares, transfixed, into Sezru’s clear eyes, body rigid.
Sezru laughs and Kihreyn takes a step back, gulping down the faint stirring of anger and the desire that surges up. Sezru is both the best and the worst thing to ever happen to him. He does not want it any other way and wonders if that is a sign of a true masochistic personality.
A short gesture is his answer, and a laugh that is like a sigh. “Open it,” Sezru says, green grey eyes blinking innocently at him-nobody would ever believe it.
He does, fingers feeling the edges and ripping carefully, because he can never say no. He is incapable of saying no. Little by little he tears the paper, slices through tape, and gets to the plain brown cardboard box. He takes off the lid and is not surprised to see nothing inside.
Kihreyn looks at Sezru who laughs and waves him closer.
He leans down so that his face is closer to Sezru’s, feels something resembling calm press down on him. It is just the way that the other fae is. Just another teasing flick or some obscure need to play.
Sezru grabs his hair. Kihreyn starts, but decides in a split second to let Sezru keep his grip, pain and pressure one and the same. Suddenly Sezru pushes himself up on his toes and yanks Kihreyn’s head down, their lips meeting for a light, lingering kiss.
Kihreyn’s heart stops and his mind blanks and it’s like the sun has exploded in front of his eyes. He does nothing but hover frozen over Sezru, who pulls back slightly with a satisfied look on his face, an expression reminiscent of a cat who has trapped a mouse. Sezru’s breath is hot and moist against his lips.
“Happy birthday,” he murmurs.
Kihreyn has forgotten that it was today.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY direharbinger~~!!!!!!!!!!
So I was thinking of what to do. Then fell back on my old "May as well write her something @__@" thing. XDXDXD So something short and (relatively) sweet birthday fic!
I was thinking of writing Cid/Vincent, but then my mind broke and I didn't know what to write it on anyway
Title: Entropy
Fandom: Original
Characters: Kihreyn, Sezru
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: 3 : CHAOS, DISORGANIZATION, RANDOMNESS [Merriam-Webster]
Comments: Haha, do you know that Sezru now has his own folder on my computer? *dead* Short at about 700 words and totally for Dib. :3
Kihreyn wonders when he has stopped counting the years.
He forgets how old he is. Sometimes it feels like each day is brand new, glitz on every surface, a dark sheen across water. Other time he feels older than time itself. He can feel the years weighing into his bones, makes him imagine creaking sounds as he walks. Dust trickling from the palms of his hands. Ash in his mouth.
He is older than he has ever thought he would be. Would be far older when it all ends (will it end?).
“Kihreyn. Kihreynnn.”
A light through darkness. Or maybe shadow against shadow. Only he could feel it glide across his senses, murky darkness that swallows more than light: it swallows everything in its path. He can’t help but welcome it though with spread out arms, closing his eyes and resigning himself to the inevitable. Sezru is a tidal wave.
Kihreyn turns at the soft step, finds himself helplessly-as helpless as one swept away by a flood-pulled towards Sezru who is looking at him with bright eyes that eclipses the garishly decorated box in his hands. Sezru is eternal. Kihreyn would find himself dying to keep it that way. He wonders just when he was pulled into the other fae’s orbit, when it was he found himself hovering as the moon to the earth-or perhaps a planet to the sun.
Gravity anchors him, but not to the ground. It tugs him towards that slender fae who is smiling at him, a wicked gleam in Sezru’s eyes.
“Kihreyn,” Sezru coos.
“Yes?” He ignores the slight hoarseness in his voice. It happens often around Sezru.
Kihreyn blinks as the box in Sezru’s hands is thrust at him and he takes it awkwardly. It feels too light, as if it is just cardboard and paper and air. But it is from Sezru, so he cradles it as gently as one holds a baby bird.
“What’s this?” He asks, now noticing how poorly the paper-bright red and orange-fits, the tears at the edges, the visible tape. Somehow between his observation and his question, Sezru has stepped closer to him, leaning towards him with a mischievous smile, lashes brushing at his cheeks.
Oh, oh. But Kihreyn is used to Sezru’s idiosyncrasies by now that while his breath catches, he isn’t scrambling to get away or to lean closer. He just stares, transfixed, into Sezru’s clear eyes, body rigid.
Sezru laughs and Kihreyn takes a step back, gulping down the faint stirring of anger and the desire that surges up. Sezru is both the best and the worst thing to ever happen to him. He does not want it any other way and wonders if that is a sign of a true masochistic personality.
A short gesture is his answer, and a laugh that is like a sigh. “Open it,” Sezru says, green grey eyes blinking innocently at him-nobody would ever believe it.
He does, fingers feeling the edges and ripping carefully, because he can never say no. He is incapable of saying no. Little by little he tears the paper, slices through tape, and gets to the plain brown cardboard box. He takes off the lid and is not surprised to see nothing inside.
Kihreyn looks at Sezru who laughs and waves him closer.
He leans down so that his face is closer to Sezru’s, feels something resembling calm press down on him. It is just the way that the other fae is. Just another teasing flick or some obscure need to play.
Sezru grabs his hair. Kihreyn starts, but decides in a split second to let Sezru keep his grip, pain and pressure one and the same. Suddenly Sezru pushes himself up on his toes and yanks Kihreyn’s head down, their lips meeting for a light, lingering kiss.
Kihreyn’s heart stops and his mind blanks and it’s like the sun has exploded in front of his eyes. He does nothing but hover frozen over Sezru, who pulls back slightly with a satisfied look on his face, an expression reminiscent of a cat who has trapped a mouse. Sezru’s breath is hot and moist against his lips.
“Happy birthday,” he murmurs.
Kihreyn has forgotten that it was today.