Haunted
Title: Haunted
Pairing: Roy/Kimbley
Rating: Perfectly worksafe
Notes: I typed it right into LJ, so if you see any errors, don't be afraid to point them out to me.
The quiet sound of mocking laughter had long become familiar in his head. The quiet, maniacal laughter from memories he should have long since forgotten. Unfortunately, forgetting never was an option where that figure was concerned. There was no way he could forget his idol, the one he wished he didn't aspire to be like. There was no way he could forget honey-fire eyes.
There was no way he could forget the one that was his devil, the blame of all destruction easily leveled as influence of that devine figure. His lack of nightmares was all due to him, the listlessness that almost led him to stupidity was from trying to drown out the laughter. The coaxing, the sweet power that he knew he could wield better than any others was only addicting because that man had wanted it to be.
He tried to forget. Devils didn't die, and this man was dead. His idol had been nothing more than a persuasive soldier, even if his first vision of him had been the sight of a slender shillouette coming through the smoke on the battle field. Even if he'd found himself wishing to be more like that being.
He was many years dead, yet still the laughter echoed in his memories, quieted only by time. He did his best to frustrate the youth he'd found with those same colored eyes, wanting to make him be less like that one that he seemed to share too many traits with. When he was frustrated, he wasn't controlled, and that was better, because he couldn't stand that same intensity to be seen in his charge.
He couldn't stand the reminder that he'd foisted on himself in a greedy moment that had led to a child being under his control. Too similar was his own attitude now to what his personal demon's once had been. Of course, his charge was no more under his control than the person he was taking after to his memories. He should have realized that. He didn't know where he was, and he had a train to board. Memories to shove aside and premonition to ignore.
That laughter was just a memory, and his sight was deceiving him. Even the smug expression being leveled at him by his competition wouldn't convince him. He didn't want to consider that he'd been right the first time, that his idol hadn't been a man at all. No, not even his senses would convince him that the long haired figure really existed.
Still, the laughter wouldn't go away, and now it was so much clearer than it had been for years.
Pairing: Roy/Kimbley
Rating: Perfectly worksafe
Notes: I typed it right into LJ, so if you see any errors, don't be afraid to point them out to me.
The quiet sound of mocking laughter had long become familiar in his head. The quiet, maniacal laughter from memories he should have long since forgotten. Unfortunately, forgetting never was an option where that figure was concerned. There was no way he could forget his idol, the one he wished he didn't aspire to be like. There was no way he could forget honey-fire eyes.
There was no way he could forget the one that was his devil, the blame of all destruction easily leveled as influence of that devine figure. His lack of nightmares was all due to him, the listlessness that almost led him to stupidity was from trying to drown out the laughter. The coaxing, the sweet power that he knew he could wield better than any others was only addicting because that man had wanted it to be.
He tried to forget. Devils didn't die, and this man was dead. His idol had been nothing more than a persuasive soldier, even if his first vision of him had been the sight of a slender shillouette coming through the smoke on the battle field. Even if he'd found himself wishing to be more like that being.
He was many years dead, yet still the laughter echoed in his memories, quieted only by time. He did his best to frustrate the youth he'd found with those same colored eyes, wanting to make him be less like that one that he seemed to share too many traits with. When he was frustrated, he wasn't controlled, and that was better, because he couldn't stand that same intensity to be seen in his charge.
He couldn't stand the reminder that he'd foisted on himself in a greedy moment that had led to a child being under his control. Too similar was his own attitude now to what his personal demon's once had been. Of course, his charge was no more under his control than the person he was taking after to his memories. He should have realized that. He didn't know where he was, and he had a train to board. Memories to shove aside and premonition to ignore.
That laughter was just a memory, and his sight was deceiving him. Even the smug expression being leveled at him by his competition wouldn't convince him. He didn't want to consider that he'd been right the first time, that his idol hadn't been a man at all. No, not even his senses would convince him that the long haired figure really existed.
Still, the laughter wouldn't go away, and now it was so much clearer than it had been for years.