our distance and that person [Tetsuya/Ayana x 30 kisses]
Title: our distance and that person
Fandom: L'Arc~en~Ciel
Pairing: Tetsuya/Ayana {1st person- Tetsuya's POV}
Prompt: 30 kisses #4: our distance and that person
Rating: PG
Warning(s): internal character conflict, angst, mildly dark
Words: 1384
Summary: Tetsuya struggles with the growing distance forming between himself and Ayana. There is someone trying to pull him away from her, second-guessing what he believes is most important in life-- his career or his marriage.
Author's Note: I literally wrote this in twenty minutes, and yet it ended up being far longer than I thought it would! This will be my first entry for the 30kisses prompt challenge~ As soon as I saw the prompt phrase, this entire story just popped into my brain. Also, this may be the first first-person fic I've written. Wow. Usually I'm very bad at it, but I think it was necessary for this one.
Enjoy~! \(^-^)/ Comments & feedback make this author very happy~! Even if it's just "I read it", that's good enough for me!
~◦♥◦~
I'm sorry.
At a time like this, that's all I can say, isn't it?
I want to express my regret for making you feel this way, for I have not yet been able to. Perhaps you have come to believe I am content this way-- allow me to assure you, I am not.
When those words rise in my throat, I feel his eyes upon my back. My heart is audibly tearing into pieces, rising to a fever pitch, and all I can hear are the echoes of his sneer. All the while, I see you nod quietly, a gracious surrender, and step out of the room. It is as if our hearts are tied together by a thin silver string, and when you move away like that, I feel it tug and snap.
I hate that man.
I hate him with the same intensity with which I love you. Perhaps because these two things are in such direct disagreement? I've never felt so divided within myself. For years I've always had a clarity of vision; if I did not know where I was going or what I was doing, I would figure it out. Naturally, when we met, when those first few shining memories were carved into my heart, I was struck with that self-assurance once again-- all I wanted anymore was you.
Those memories were evidently drawing a fine line within me, and as the brilliant times were flowing about us, it deepened and deepened until it broke.
When we sit on the sofa together watching a movie, merely to be in each other's presence more than to enjoy the plot, he asks me why I am not working. There is a pile of papers crying out for your eyes, he says, placing a hand on my shoulder and beckoning me toward the table. I slip my arm from around your shoulders, mutter an apology, and slavishly submit to his wishes.
You are not one to sit idly by as your husband makes these mistakes. The first few times, you smiled kindly (in the way only you can do) and wished me well in my endeavors. I cannot remember if I smiled back or not. But as time went on and the instances increased in frequency, you at last tried to stop me. “You've been working all day. You're home now,” you insist, “you deserve some time to rest;” and I think to myself, of course you're right. Business has had its way with me all day-- now I could give myself more willingly to someone I love.
I'm sure you know that-- you do, don't you? That I wish I could give you all of my time. I could pass hours just listening the sound of your voice, your laugh, your sighs. If only I could stop time, I would spend an eternity in your embrace. I desperately grab for any spare moment with you, for my heart is never too full to hold another memory.
That is what I decided, after all-- that is what I want. You are what I want.
Get married? You? That man had scoffed as we stood in the jewelry store. I was looking for the nicest ring, an expensive one, my eyes enraptured by the displays of glittering diamonds. I wanted to find the one that would light up that smile in your eyes. There are better things to be spending your money on, he said, tugging at my sleeve. Remember yesterday when you threw out an old pick? You have to buy a new one. The cord for your amp is getting a bit worn with age, don't you think? Don't spend your hard-earned money on frivolous things.
But she isn't a frivolous thing, I remember thinking. She's the most important thing to me.
I thought he would give up on me when I said that. Alas, he only grew more persistent.
That's why, Ayana-- it's not your fault and I can't let you blame yourself, if that is what you're thinking. You've done nothing wrong, and I need you to know that I still love you. I absolutely love you, no matter how my attentions may seem divided. It's because of that man that it's painful at times.
Our distance and that person-- I cannot help but draw the connection between the two.
He mocks me, tries to pull me away from my world and into his twisted phantasmagorias, second-guesses every decision I make now.
The man I used to be will not leave me alone.
That is not my life anymore, I tell him; I have decided that work is not everything anymore. I am in love with Ayana, and I married her because I love her.
Yes, I do still love you. I love you so much that at times, I'm sure my heart is going to burst. All of the joys and wonderful feelings you have given me will never go away. Please, never lose sight of that. Despite it all, that will always remain true.
I never thought I would get married-- but that me had never met you. I was dedicated to my job, and there was no space for anything else. Every spare moment was spent working. Still, though I am committed to my work, that is not my only obligation. The old me never believed that was possible-- and as he lives inside me now, he still cannot accept that it is.
Those times when I am in the bedroom, reviewing plans and contracts while you are at the table, eating alone-- they are just as painful for me as they are for you. The darkness of the night is saturated with the methodical clicking of a laptop's keys, rather than hushed whispers of love. I know this is not how you wanted it-- it's not how I want it, either. It's how he wants it.
Every time I open my mouth to tell you all of this, he covers it with a shadowy hand. Instead of those words, his fingers too easily spell out an excuse-- and do you believe it? Do you truly believe that the band is so busy, there is barely a spare moment left for you, for us? It alarms me, how easily those lies spill from my lips. It seems I would sooner describe the entire working history of my career to you than finally give voice to those two words, as I've wished to for months-- I'm sorry.
The man I once was is no longer a part of me. I tore those doubts from my chest, raw and bleeding, and cast them away. Everything has changed, and even he must accept that.
When he is gone, that distance will be gone too, I promise you.
Today, I open the door to the familiar world that is our home. In a moment you are there to greet me-- as you always do and always have without fail, even as that distance was growing, festering like a wound-- but your smile fades in an instant. You open your mouth as if on impulse, and I know you have found the hasty handwritten note that was left on the table this morning. I had lost the courage to speak to you directly, knowing my voice would falter-- I would only sing that chorus of excuses once again.
Our distance and that person have faded into dull gray memories, disappearing into the convoluted cacophony of the past. We have our memories from those times, yours and mine, and we can never go back. All I can do is promise you this present, and our future, together.
Not a single word makes it into audibility before I let my bass slide to the ground from my shoulder and pull you into a kiss. Close in my arms-- where I wish you always to be-- I can feel you melt into it. You understand, I know, and perhaps someday you will forgive me. Each second is an apology and a promise, and another shining memory. It is carved into my heart as the others have been, and every fracture disappears.
--and from somewhere beside me, a smug voice whispers, what is it that you really want?
My answer-- the only answer-- is
this.
~◦♥◦~
Fandom: L'Arc~en~Ciel
Pairing: Tetsuya/Ayana {1st person- Tetsuya's POV}
Prompt: 30 kisses #4: our distance and that person
Rating: PG
Warning(s): internal character conflict, angst, mildly dark
Words: 1384
Summary: Tetsuya struggles with the growing distance forming between himself and Ayana. There is someone trying to pull him away from her, second-guessing what he believes is most important in life-- his career or his marriage.
Author's Note: I literally wrote this in twenty minutes, and yet it ended up being far longer than I thought it would! This will be my first entry for the 30kisses prompt challenge~ As soon as I saw the prompt phrase, this entire story just popped into my brain. Also, this may be the first first-person fic I've written. Wow. Usually I'm very bad at it, but I think it was necessary for this one.
Enjoy~! \(^-^)/ Comments & feedback make this author very happy~! Even if it's just "I read it", that's good enough for me!
~◦♥◦~
I'm sorry.
At a time like this, that's all I can say, isn't it?
I want to express my regret for making you feel this way, for I have not yet been able to. Perhaps you have come to believe I am content this way-- allow me to assure you, I am not.
When those words rise in my throat, I feel his eyes upon my back. My heart is audibly tearing into pieces, rising to a fever pitch, and all I can hear are the echoes of his sneer. All the while, I see you nod quietly, a gracious surrender, and step out of the room. It is as if our hearts are tied together by a thin silver string, and when you move away like that, I feel it tug and snap.
I hate that man.
I hate him with the same intensity with which I love you. Perhaps because these two things are in such direct disagreement? I've never felt so divided within myself. For years I've always had a clarity of vision; if I did not know where I was going or what I was doing, I would figure it out. Naturally, when we met, when those first few shining memories were carved into my heart, I was struck with that self-assurance once again-- all I wanted anymore was you.
Those memories were evidently drawing a fine line within me, and as the brilliant times were flowing about us, it deepened and deepened until it broke.
When we sit on the sofa together watching a movie, merely to be in each other's presence more than to enjoy the plot, he asks me why I am not working. There is a pile of papers crying out for your eyes, he says, placing a hand on my shoulder and beckoning me toward the table. I slip my arm from around your shoulders, mutter an apology, and slavishly submit to his wishes.
You are not one to sit idly by as your husband makes these mistakes. The first few times, you smiled kindly (in the way only you can do) and wished me well in my endeavors. I cannot remember if I smiled back or not. But as time went on and the instances increased in frequency, you at last tried to stop me. “You've been working all day. You're home now,” you insist, “you deserve some time to rest;” and I think to myself, of course you're right. Business has had its way with me all day-- now I could give myself more willingly to someone I love.
I'm sure you know that-- you do, don't you? That I wish I could give you all of my time. I could pass hours just listening the sound of your voice, your laugh, your sighs. If only I could stop time, I would spend an eternity in your embrace. I desperately grab for any spare moment with you, for my heart is never too full to hold another memory.
That is what I decided, after all-- that is what I want. You are what I want.
Get married? You? That man had scoffed as we stood in the jewelry store. I was looking for the nicest ring, an expensive one, my eyes enraptured by the displays of glittering diamonds. I wanted to find the one that would light up that smile in your eyes. There are better things to be spending your money on, he said, tugging at my sleeve. Remember yesterday when you threw out an old pick? You have to buy a new one. The cord for your amp is getting a bit worn with age, don't you think? Don't spend your hard-earned money on frivolous things.
But she isn't a frivolous thing, I remember thinking. She's the most important thing to me.
I thought he would give up on me when I said that. Alas, he only grew more persistent.
That's why, Ayana-- it's not your fault and I can't let you blame yourself, if that is what you're thinking. You've done nothing wrong, and I need you to know that I still love you. I absolutely love you, no matter how my attentions may seem divided. It's because of that man that it's painful at times.
Our distance and that person-- I cannot help but draw the connection between the two.
He mocks me, tries to pull me away from my world and into his twisted phantasmagorias, second-guesses every decision I make now.
The man I used to be will not leave me alone.
That is not my life anymore, I tell him; I have decided that work is not everything anymore. I am in love with Ayana, and I married her because I love her.
Yes, I do still love you. I love you so much that at times, I'm sure my heart is going to burst. All of the joys and wonderful feelings you have given me will never go away. Please, never lose sight of that. Despite it all, that will always remain true.
I never thought I would get married-- but that me had never met you. I was dedicated to my job, and there was no space for anything else. Every spare moment was spent working. Still, though I am committed to my work, that is not my only obligation. The old me never believed that was possible-- and as he lives inside me now, he still cannot accept that it is.
Those times when I am in the bedroom, reviewing plans and contracts while you are at the table, eating alone-- they are just as painful for me as they are for you. The darkness of the night is saturated with the methodical clicking of a laptop's keys, rather than hushed whispers of love. I know this is not how you wanted it-- it's not how I want it, either. It's how he wants it.
Every time I open my mouth to tell you all of this, he covers it with a shadowy hand. Instead of those words, his fingers too easily spell out an excuse-- and do you believe it? Do you truly believe that the band is so busy, there is barely a spare moment left for you, for us? It alarms me, how easily those lies spill from my lips. It seems I would sooner describe the entire working history of my career to you than finally give voice to those two words, as I've wished to for months-- I'm sorry.
The man I once was is no longer a part of me. I tore those doubts from my chest, raw and bleeding, and cast them away. Everything has changed, and even he must accept that.
When he is gone, that distance will be gone too, I promise you.
Today, I open the door to the familiar world that is our home. In a moment you are there to greet me-- as you always do and always have without fail, even as that distance was growing, festering like a wound-- but your smile fades in an instant. You open your mouth as if on impulse, and I know you have found the hasty handwritten note that was left on the table this morning. I had lost the courage to speak to you directly, knowing my voice would falter-- I would only sing that chorus of excuses once again.
Our distance and that person have faded into dull gray memories, disappearing into the convoluted cacophony of the past. We have our memories from those times, yours and mine, and we can never go back. All I can do is promise you this present, and our future, together.
Not a single word makes it into audibility before I let my bass slide to the ground from my shoulder and pull you into a kiss. Close in my arms-- where I wish you always to be-- I can feel you melt into it. You understand, I know, and perhaps someday you will forgive me. Each second is an apology and a promise, and another shining memory. It is carved into my heart as the others have been, and every fracture disappears.
--and from somewhere beside me, a smug voice whispers, what is it that you really want?
My answer-- the only answer-- is
this.
~◦♥◦~