(no subject)
Title: Your Song
Author: mozarts_piano
Pairing: Scorpius/James
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own a thing.
Words: 510
If I was a sculptor, oh
But then again, no
Or a man who made potions in the traveling shows.
I don’t have much money but,
Boy if I did
I’d buy a big house where
We both could live.
Do you like it?
The words spoken so soft, so quiet, so frail - waiting to be broken, torn and thrown away like rubbish into a can, a tin can, clang went his heart, clang would go his lungs and liver, clang away everything that ever seemed important.
I don’t understand it
It’s gnarled and twisted and is that a face? You can’t decipher between the abstract and the reality of the monument in front of you, of the situation you’ve been painfully put in, of the heartbroken look on his face.
It’s you
The faint thumping of a heartbeat, so nervous and scared and frightened that this is it, that this is his last chance to put something amazing together for this boy, this boy that deserves every last word, every priceless memory, every happy day.
It’s beautiful
You’re not sure if you’re speaking the truth. Maybe it isn’t, but he certainly is, so torn apart and god - there is nothing more devastatingly gorgeous than watching him fall into that vulnerable, small part of himself that he tries so hard to hide.
I just… I thought that if maybe…
The ramblings, the insecurity, more heart than anything; but he’s trying, trying to pull himself together and be brave, but lord being brave only makes him reckless, which makes his heart get torn out of his chest in the long run, and it doesn't matter how many times it has and will happen to him, he can't get used to it, especially now because this boy is too good, too fast, he means too much for him now.
James.
It's a warning, a drop of something in your voice, because you care for him, like nothing else, and you believe he's talented and amazing, but there's no way you two can continue on until he finds something real, something bigger, more important than this 'art'. It makes him sweet, like the day you first met him for real, the day he looked up in the library with that little grin on his face and gave you the sketch he did of you. And you loved that version of him, you do, but your father's right. The future is now.
But Scorpius, I-
Begging, pleading; he doesn't ever want to disappoint the boy, but he's never had to make the decision before, was always able to keep his one passion and his one love in the same place. But now he has to chose and he doesn't want to, like a child, like a heartbroken train engine.
Please.
You need practical, not beauty, if you want this thing to work. And you do. You do more than anything. You hear him swallow and you're so proud it hurts. Proud of him for giving up his dream. His dream for you.
It is silent then as the boy stays in the room, looking down at the twisted statue as he takes off to the fireplace, putting his coat on so he can take the boy's father up on his job offer.
Something respectable.
Author: mozarts_piano
Pairing: Scorpius/James
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own a thing.
Words: 510
If I was a sculptor, oh
But then again, no
Or a man who made potions in the traveling shows.
I don’t have much money but,
Boy if I did
I’d buy a big house where
We both could live.
Do you like it?
The words spoken so soft, so quiet, so frail - waiting to be broken, torn and thrown away like rubbish into a can, a tin can, clang went his heart, clang would go his lungs and liver, clang away everything that ever seemed important.
I don’t understand it
It’s gnarled and twisted and is that a face? You can’t decipher between the abstract and the reality of the monument in front of you, of the situation you’ve been painfully put in, of the heartbroken look on his face.
It’s you
The faint thumping of a heartbeat, so nervous and scared and frightened that this is it, that this is his last chance to put something amazing together for this boy, this boy that deserves every last word, every priceless memory, every happy day.
It’s beautiful
You’re not sure if you’re speaking the truth. Maybe it isn’t, but he certainly is, so torn apart and god - there is nothing more devastatingly gorgeous than watching him fall into that vulnerable, small part of himself that he tries so hard to hide.
I just… I thought that if maybe…
The ramblings, the insecurity, more heart than anything; but he’s trying, trying to pull himself together and be brave, but lord being brave only makes him reckless, which makes his heart get torn out of his chest in the long run, and it doesn't matter how many times it has and will happen to him, he can't get used to it, especially now because this boy is too good, too fast, he means too much for him now.
James.
It's a warning, a drop of something in your voice, because you care for him, like nothing else, and you believe he's talented and amazing, but there's no way you two can continue on until he finds something real, something bigger, more important than this 'art'. It makes him sweet, like the day you first met him for real, the day he looked up in the library with that little grin on his face and gave you the sketch he did of you. And you loved that version of him, you do, but your father's right. The future is now.
But Scorpius, I-
Begging, pleading; he doesn't ever want to disappoint the boy, but he's never had to make the decision before, was always able to keep his one passion and his one love in the same place. But now he has to chose and he doesn't want to, like a child, like a heartbroken train engine.
Please.
You need practical, not beauty, if you want this thing to work. And you do. You do more than anything. You hear him swallow and you're so proud it hurts. Proud of him for giving up his dream. His dream for you.
It is silent then as the boy stays in the room, looking down at the twisted statue as he takes off to the fireplace, putting his coat on so he can take the boy's father up on his job offer.
Something respectable.