In This Moment
Just something I finally got around to finishing. My first time trying the 2nd person POV and I really like it! :]
In This Moment
Tokyo DOGS drabble
Sou Takakura x Yuki Matsunaga
Episode 7 (I believe? I'm too lazy to go back & check)
You find yourself sitting across from her, alone, without your obnoxious idiot of a partner. You’re tense, although you hide it under layers of military and police training. You watch her as she places a pair of chopsticks on each of the three plates laid out on the table. You quickly glance at the food displayed, avoiding her soft eyes. The silence without that idiot presses down on you, for you can’t stand being alone with her.
It’s not that you hate her. You just hate her past with that despicable man, the man you vowed to arrest with your own hands. It’s the fact that she once loved him, of all people. Him, the man you hate the most in the entire world. Of all people, why him? Of all people, why her?
You take a gulp of lukewarm tea to calm your nerves. You step away from those dangerous ponderings and slip back into the safety of your apathy. You ask the question you always do: “Do you remember anything?” It is a question she hates, but she answers anyways. You want to know the type of person he is, what made her fall in love. You follow your curiosity and ask her.
You listen to her speak of him, of his gentleness and her love for him. You feel resentment building in you. You don’t want her to make your enemy into someone kind, when he clearly is not. You can’t understand how someone like him could have moved her heart. How could someone so innocent come to love someone so wicked?
She lapses into silence, her eyes shift to gaze at you, warm and eager and sorrowful all at once. You feel your eyes being drawn to hers, but you stubbornly glare at the bowl before you. You break under the tension and grab your chopsticks to try her food.
The omelet tastes like steel in your mouth, hard and unyielding like your stubborn heart. You bite out a criticism, relishing in its bitter familiarity. The sight of her disappointed frown constricts your heart. For some reason you want to wipe that forlorn look from her face.
“I’ll teach you how to make a soft omelet,” you mutter. A smile blossoms on her lips and you feel warm. It’s not the flush of alcohol, nor the heat of heady desire. It’s a gentle warmth, pure and innocent and unlike anything you have ever experienced. You feel light yet grounded at the same time. It’s an odd sensation, but one you enjoy. Unknowingly, you realize you’ve returned her bright smile with a small grin of your own.
The loud crash as the front door is kicked open tear you from the blissful moment. Your partner lumbers into the flat, bruised and a little bloody. He thrusts a memory stick into your hands before collapsing onto the couch in exhaustion. You watch as she rushes to his side, concern etched in the furrow of her brow. For a fleeting moment you feel a cold jolt of envy. The notion of jealousy is absurd, so you forcibly squash it before turning to your room.
You browse through the files your partner risked his life to acquire. You smile, pleased at the amount of evidence he acquired for the gambling case. For once, your partner is helpful. You go check on him in the living room, only to find him knocked out on the couch. She is sound asleep, resting her upper body on the coffee table.
You try to wake them up, to no avail. You place a blanket over her shoulders. For a moment, you stare at the curve of her chin and the gentle slope of her jaw. Her face is peaceful in slumber, and for the first time, you realize she is beautiful. For some reason there is a sinking feeling in your heart. It is a feeling you are not too familiar with. You can feel it though, an invisible bond snapping in place around your wrist, cuffing you to her.
You should be panicking, but you are not. It just seems natural, as if a truth you had known all along but refused to accept. It is still unsettling, however, how foreign it feels. You are not the type of person to dwell in matters like this. To you, life is simply the arrest of criminals and the pursuit of your sole sworn enemy. Trivial things like women did not affect you. That is before. Now, as much as you deny it, you can’t imagine life in her absence.
The thought of her leaving is discomforting. If Jinno asks her to come back to him, would she? Would you let her? Would you try to keep her? The ugly shadow of doubt disrupts the calm you just felt a moment ago. You glance at her again, wondering if you should continue allowing her to worm her way into your heart, because if you are being honest, she has already chipped a little corner of it.
The longer you stare at her, the more you want to reach out and touch her, in all her innocence and shortcomings and beauty. You want some tangible proof that she is really there, not some abstraction you’ve somehow conjured in your mind. You want to that know she is real, that she wouldn’t disappear, that she’ll stay and keep butting into your business as if she had a right to, because you want her to.
Your hand reaches forward, but before it gets anywhere near her, your self-control jumps in and you pull it back. Nervousness and doubt clog your senses and instead of facing them, you flee to your room, closing the door on her and the danger she poses to your sanity and ambitions.
In another lifetime, you would have no qualms with acting on these feelings of yours. In another lifetime, you would not hide nor suppress them. In another lifetime, you wouldn’t be burdened by revenge and hatred. This is not it. But you can wait. You can wait until you’ve captured Jinno, when you’ve made him bear the consequences of his actions. After he is out of your mind (her mind) you’ll have a new life. A different life. One in which you are not afraid to have her beside you. One in which you dare to live and love freely. But now is not the time. Not yet. You can wait. You just hope she is willing to wait too.
In This Moment
Tokyo DOGS drabble
Sou Takakura x Yuki Matsunaga
Episode 7 (I believe? I'm too lazy to go back & check)
You find yourself sitting across from her, alone, without your obnoxious idiot of a partner. You’re tense, although you hide it under layers of military and police training. You watch her as she places a pair of chopsticks on each of the three plates laid out on the table. You quickly glance at the food displayed, avoiding her soft eyes. The silence without that idiot presses down on you, for you can’t stand being alone with her.
It’s not that you hate her. You just hate her past with that despicable man, the man you vowed to arrest with your own hands. It’s the fact that she once loved him, of all people. Him, the man you hate the most in the entire world. Of all people, why him? Of all people, why her?
You take a gulp of lukewarm tea to calm your nerves. You step away from those dangerous ponderings and slip back into the safety of your apathy. You ask the question you always do: “Do you remember anything?” It is a question she hates, but she answers anyways. You want to know the type of person he is, what made her fall in love. You follow your curiosity and ask her.
You listen to her speak of him, of his gentleness and her love for him. You feel resentment building in you. You don’t want her to make your enemy into someone kind, when he clearly is not. You can’t understand how someone like him could have moved her heart. How could someone so innocent come to love someone so wicked?
She lapses into silence, her eyes shift to gaze at you, warm and eager and sorrowful all at once. You feel your eyes being drawn to hers, but you stubbornly glare at the bowl before you. You break under the tension and grab your chopsticks to try her food.
The omelet tastes like steel in your mouth, hard and unyielding like your stubborn heart. You bite out a criticism, relishing in its bitter familiarity. The sight of her disappointed frown constricts your heart. For some reason you want to wipe that forlorn look from her face.
“I’ll teach you how to make a soft omelet,” you mutter. A smile blossoms on her lips and you feel warm. It’s not the flush of alcohol, nor the heat of heady desire. It’s a gentle warmth, pure and innocent and unlike anything you have ever experienced. You feel light yet grounded at the same time. It’s an odd sensation, but one you enjoy. Unknowingly, you realize you’ve returned her bright smile with a small grin of your own.
The loud crash as the front door is kicked open tear you from the blissful moment. Your partner lumbers into the flat, bruised and a little bloody. He thrusts a memory stick into your hands before collapsing onto the couch in exhaustion. You watch as she rushes to his side, concern etched in the furrow of her brow. For a fleeting moment you feel a cold jolt of envy. The notion of jealousy is absurd, so you forcibly squash it before turning to your room.
You browse through the files your partner risked his life to acquire. You smile, pleased at the amount of evidence he acquired for the gambling case. For once, your partner is helpful. You go check on him in the living room, only to find him knocked out on the couch. She is sound asleep, resting her upper body on the coffee table.
You try to wake them up, to no avail. You place a blanket over her shoulders. For a moment, you stare at the curve of her chin and the gentle slope of her jaw. Her face is peaceful in slumber, and for the first time, you realize she is beautiful. For some reason there is a sinking feeling in your heart. It is a feeling you are not too familiar with. You can feel it though, an invisible bond snapping in place around your wrist, cuffing you to her.
You should be panicking, but you are not. It just seems natural, as if a truth you had known all along but refused to accept. It is still unsettling, however, how foreign it feels. You are not the type of person to dwell in matters like this. To you, life is simply the arrest of criminals and the pursuit of your sole sworn enemy. Trivial things like women did not affect you. That is before. Now, as much as you deny it, you can’t imagine life in her absence.
The thought of her leaving is discomforting. If Jinno asks her to come back to him, would she? Would you let her? Would you try to keep her? The ugly shadow of doubt disrupts the calm you just felt a moment ago. You glance at her again, wondering if you should continue allowing her to worm her way into your heart, because if you are being honest, she has already chipped a little corner of it.
The longer you stare at her, the more you want to reach out and touch her, in all her innocence and shortcomings and beauty. You want some tangible proof that she is really there, not some abstraction you’ve somehow conjured in your mind. You want to that know she is real, that she wouldn’t disappear, that she’ll stay and keep butting into your business as if she had a right to, because you want her to.
Your hand reaches forward, but before it gets anywhere near her, your self-control jumps in and you pull it back. Nervousness and doubt clog your senses and instead of facing them, you flee to your room, closing the door on her and the danger she poses to your sanity and ambitions.
In another lifetime, you would have no qualms with acting on these feelings of yours. In another lifetime, you would not hide nor suppress them. In another lifetime, you wouldn’t be burdened by revenge and hatred. This is not it. But you can wait. You can wait until you’ve captured Jinno, when you’ve made him bear the consequences of his actions. After he is out of your mind (her mind) you’ll have a new life. A different life. One in which you are not afraid to have her beside you. One in which you dare to live and love freely. But now is not the time. Not yet. You can wait. You just hope she is willing to wait too.