Through the Darkness
Title: Through the Darkness
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: 2PM/F(x)
Pairing: Victoria/Nichkhun
Word Count: 626
Summary: Victoria can't sleep at night.
Notes: Secret Agents!AU; inspired and for kinghero
You look towards the ocean, waves moving rhythmically like nature's own heartbeat. Licking your chapped lips, you taste the sun dried salt on peeling skin and the tartness of the tequila in your right hand. Sleep weighs down your eyelids like sand bells but by sheer force you are still awake, nightmares delayed a little longer tonight. The mahogany wood creaks with the shift of your weight, sorrow slowly polluting down your bloodstream.
"You should be asleep by now; you'll be running on two hours of sleep at this rate." His voice permeates the darkness behind you. "Come back to bed."
You tilt your head at the direction of his voice, going through the motions of listening to him but your thoughts lie elsewhere. You rub your arms gently; days spent near the ocean robbed you of the softness that used to be there. You sigh almost imperceptibly, but it's that almost that causes a ruffle in the bed sheets as he climbs out and slowly pads to where you stand in the doorway. It is by instinct now that when you feel strong arms sliding around you, you lean into it; a comfort that you never tire of.
He leans into your hair, his lips barely grazing the tips of your ears. "Ever since we've been assigned to this mission you've been brooding." His lips were softer than you ever remembered. "You can't save everyone."
Flashes of carmine liquid spilling out, out, out- dripping between your calloused fingers, seeping into your jacket. The memory temporarily incapacitates you before you grasp reality again.
"I know." You sigh out softly, a contradiction to your moral standing to bear the sins of the past. "I know that there was nothing else I could have done." You don't want this wound to scar over; you want to bleed to death.
His mouth moves down to the soft juncture beneath your ear, pressing against the pulse of your own life force moving beneath your skin. He speaks his fear into your skin, tattooed by his confession: "I don't want to lose you to your own self."
Words catch in your mouth, a bubble of emotion barely contained below the surface. You bring your left hand to comb through his hair, dyed too many times with the need of secrecy, and angle your face so that your lips rest at his temple. No words are needed as he joins in your brooding, taking your anguish and accepting it as his own. He closes his eyes and hums in pleasure with the soft strokes of your hand.
"How could I lose myself when I have you to anchor me right here?" You say, more for your sake than his. "I'll never stray from the path I've chosen to walk with you."
"Three more times until we are free." He brings his lips to yours, and you taste salt that never touched the sea; his tears are the ones you are unable to shed.
"Go to bed." You say into his lips. He pulls away to look at you, to look in your eyes and you see hurt tinged on the edge of his irises. "Let me finish this," You hold up your glass of vodka. "I'll be in bed in five minutes I swear. I'm not going anywhere."
He takes one last look at you, determining whether your self-induced isolation was healthy for your mind or not. But you were always stubborn, and you win this silent soul searching contest as he resigns, knowing you need space to collect your thoughts. You notice his shoulders sag as he
walks away from you (another burden to bear).
Your eyes turn back to the ocean, its heartbeat as unwavering as you left it.
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: 2PM/F(x)
Pairing: Victoria/Nichkhun
Word Count: 626
Summary: Victoria can't sleep at night.
Notes: Secret Agents!AU; inspired and for kinghero
You look towards the ocean, waves moving rhythmically like nature's own heartbeat. Licking your chapped lips, you taste the sun dried salt on peeling skin and the tartness of the tequila in your right hand. Sleep weighs down your eyelids like sand bells but by sheer force you are still awake, nightmares delayed a little longer tonight. The mahogany wood creaks with the shift of your weight, sorrow slowly polluting down your bloodstream.
"You should be asleep by now; you'll be running on two hours of sleep at this rate." His voice permeates the darkness behind you. "Come back to bed."
You tilt your head at the direction of his voice, going through the motions of listening to him but your thoughts lie elsewhere. You rub your arms gently; days spent near the ocean robbed you of the softness that used to be there. You sigh almost imperceptibly, but it's that almost that causes a ruffle in the bed sheets as he climbs out and slowly pads to where you stand in the doorway. It is by instinct now that when you feel strong arms sliding around you, you lean into it; a comfort that you never tire of.
He leans into your hair, his lips barely grazing the tips of your ears. "Ever since we've been assigned to this mission you've been brooding." His lips were softer than you ever remembered. "You can't save everyone."
Flashes of carmine liquid spilling out, out, out- dripping between your calloused fingers, seeping into your jacket. The memory temporarily incapacitates you before you grasp reality again.
"I know." You sigh out softly, a contradiction to your moral standing to bear the sins of the past. "I know that there was nothing else I could have done." You don't want this wound to scar over; you want to bleed to death.
His mouth moves down to the soft juncture beneath your ear, pressing against the pulse of your own life force moving beneath your skin. He speaks his fear into your skin, tattooed by his confession: "I don't want to lose you to your own self."
Words catch in your mouth, a bubble of emotion barely contained below the surface. You bring your left hand to comb through his hair, dyed too many times with the need of secrecy, and angle your face so that your lips rest at his temple. No words are needed as he joins in your brooding, taking your anguish and accepting it as his own. He closes his eyes and hums in pleasure with the soft strokes of your hand.
"How could I lose myself when I have you to anchor me right here?" You say, more for your sake than his. "I'll never stray from the path I've chosen to walk with you."
"Three more times until we are free." He brings his lips to yours, and you taste salt that never touched the sea; his tears are the ones you are unable to shed.
"Go to bed." You say into his lips. He pulls away to look at you, to look in your eyes and you see hurt tinged on the edge of his irises. "Let me finish this," You hold up your glass of vodka. "I'll be in bed in five minutes I swear. I'm not going anywhere."
He takes one last look at you, determining whether your self-induced isolation was healthy for your mind or not. But you were always stubborn, and you win this silent soul searching contest as he resigns, knowing you need space to collect your thoughts. You notice his shoulders sag as he
walks away from you (another burden to bear).
Your eyes turn back to the ocean, its heartbeat as unwavering as you left it.