KiraxCagalli - Petals and Doves
Title: Petals and Doves
Claim: Kira Yamato x Cagalli Yula Athha; romance (for endless_future)
Theme: Set #2 - #12: Waiting in vain
Genres: Angst/Romance
Pairings: Kira x Cagalli
Word Count: 959
Rating: G
Summary: “When a dove dies, its mate can't help but flutter around it helplessly, unsure of what has happened. The remaining dove is so sad; the other bird was its life, its main reason for living. Sometimes it's so blindsided by its confusion and grief, waiting in vain for its mate to stand back up, that it is killed by another predator, whether that be an animal or a car.” A hand rests on his shoulder. “Don't be a grieving dove, Kira.”
The sun fading on an empty graveyard. One stone slab is surrounded by flowers, always covered with flowers. Her fans miss her as much as he does, it seems.
He'd skipped out on the after party, turning his car out of the church parking lot before the cake had even been served. Missed the toasts, missed the dances. He doesn't miss missing them, nor does he feel the least bit guilty. Athrun is surrounded by enough friends as it were. Yzak, Dearka, Luna, Shinn, Cagalli, his bride Meyrin...
But Lacus is beneath the crumbly dirt, feet resting scuffling it.. Alone. Even though she had died gently in her sleep, she still needed company once and a while. Even though she told Kira she wanted him to live his life to the fullest, he wanted to sit with her grave. Even though he was alone.
He turns his purple eyes to his hands, twisting in his lap. It's hard to be calm sometimes. It's unfair she had to die. He had cursed every God he could think of, whether it be Jewish, Christian, Muslim, or Hindu. He had thrown tables and dressers, including the heavy oak one that had cramped their bedroom. All out the window effortless in a blind rage.
Eyes to the sky, purple matching purple. Life is unfair, he's decided before. It will always be unfair, giving and taking in uneven proportions. He hates it yet sometimes begs it to snap him out of what he thinks must be a horrible dream.
But it's not.
A soft but comfortingly rough voice pierces his deep thought. “When a dove dies, its mate can't help but flutter around it helplessly, unsure of what has happened. The remaining dove is so sad; the other bird was its life, its main reason for living. Sometimes it's so blindsided by its confusion and grief, waiting in vain for its mate to stand back up, that it is killed by another predator, whether that be an animal or a car.” A hand rests on his shoulder. “Don't be a grieving dove, Kira.”
He feels pinned down, hollow, more like the dead dove underneath the hard rubber tire than the fretting, living one. “How did you find me?” His own throat burns as he barks to her, twisting his body slightly to glance at her. She holds a bouquet in the offhand, rose petals all a velvety white.
“We all miss her.”
“Not as much as I do.” A bitter reply. They're all he can give these days, he thinks.
“I know.” Her own face is slack, whitened in pain. “I know.”
“You don't.” Her hand's presence is suddenly overwhelming; he shrugs it off with a frown.
She replaces it as if the rude gesture had not happened. “I know that I would feel like terribly, just as you do now, if something happened to my brother.” Her head places itself on the tip of his shoulder, beside her hand, face tipped up toward his ear. She's taller. I haven't realized.
“Nothing will happen to me.” This is something he wants desperately yet never knows the gift's been received until death calls from the dark depths of his body. The melancholy playing out on her face makes him pray nothing will happen. She's tender enough, stretched thin enough to shatter if anything further hurts her. A safe-guarded spot of his heart doesn't want her to break.
“You never know.” The tips of her lips, of her delicate mouth, are drooped, autumn eyes tinged with a certain sadness. Athrun told the same thing to her long ago, told her not to worry about their relationship. Now look at him. More bitterness.
“Why aren't you there?” He knows Cagalli isn't the kind to cry over something as trivial as a man's affections. He knows she's too strong to let herself even let her lip quiver over a man. She must only be here for him.
“I was worried about you.” Focus more on yourself, Cagalli. I can tell you're hurting.
“You shouldn't be. You should be talking with a handsome man, someone that will make you happy. You should be dancing with him, having fun. Not here, comforting me when you shouldn't be.”
“You make me happy, Kira. I love you,” she says, her voice something more than a whisper, a hesitant whisper, as it floats to his ear. “I only want you to be as happy as I am.” Sincere. She, despite present appearances, is happy.
“I am.” It's hard to say, but the warmth of her lithe fingers on his shoulder, the slight pressure of her head upon it, helped his heart force out the words. That heated hand slides down his arm and grabbed his tightly, fingers weaving together as though the siblings would be torn apart any second.
She fixes him with a calm stare. She's trying to read his complicated dark eyes and finds her answer. “I believe you.” The white bouquet is carefully leaned against the tombstone, on top of a bundle of pinkish lilies. One of the luminous petals catches on a torn, ripping it in half. Startlingly white like a dove. Unmoving as a dead one.
He squeezes Cagalli's hand, grateful for finally having something to reach for in his pain. The fingers of his other hand brush the ragged stone of the grave. It's not as comforting as it had been, but still something lifted from his shoulders.
His lips touch the blond's. “Thank you.” She is surprised for the briefest of a moment as she fidgets. She is pleased. His fingers graze the grave again, the tips of the nails breaking into microscopic fractures. “Goodbye, Lacus.”
The grave gate makes a soft click behind them.
or here at ff.net: here.
Claim: Kira Yamato x Cagalli Yula Athha; romance (for endless_future)
Theme: Set #2 - #12: Waiting in vain
Genres: Angst/Romance
Pairings: Kira x Cagalli
Word Count: 959
Rating: G
Summary: “When a dove dies, its mate can't help but flutter around it helplessly, unsure of what has happened. The remaining dove is so sad; the other bird was its life, its main reason for living. Sometimes it's so blindsided by its confusion and grief, waiting in vain for its mate to stand back up, that it is killed by another predator, whether that be an animal or a car.” A hand rests on his shoulder. “Don't be a grieving dove, Kira.”
The sun fading on an empty graveyard. One stone slab is surrounded by flowers, always covered with flowers. Her fans miss her as much as he does, it seems.
He'd skipped out on the after party, turning his car out of the church parking lot before the cake had even been served. Missed the toasts, missed the dances. He doesn't miss missing them, nor does he feel the least bit guilty. Athrun is surrounded by enough friends as it were. Yzak, Dearka, Luna, Shinn, Cagalli, his bride Meyrin...
But Lacus is beneath the crumbly dirt, feet resting scuffling it.. Alone. Even though she had died gently in her sleep, she still needed company once and a while. Even though she told Kira she wanted him to live his life to the fullest, he wanted to sit with her grave. Even though he was alone.
He turns his purple eyes to his hands, twisting in his lap. It's hard to be calm sometimes. It's unfair she had to die. He had cursed every God he could think of, whether it be Jewish, Christian, Muslim, or Hindu. He had thrown tables and dressers, including the heavy oak one that had cramped their bedroom. All out the window effortless in a blind rage.
Eyes to the sky, purple matching purple. Life is unfair, he's decided before. It will always be unfair, giving and taking in uneven proportions. He hates it yet sometimes begs it to snap him out of what he thinks must be a horrible dream.
But it's not.
A soft but comfortingly rough voice pierces his deep thought. “When a dove dies, its mate can't help but flutter around it helplessly, unsure of what has happened. The remaining dove is so sad; the other bird was its life, its main reason for living. Sometimes it's so blindsided by its confusion and grief, waiting in vain for its mate to stand back up, that it is killed by another predator, whether that be an animal or a car.” A hand rests on his shoulder. “Don't be a grieving dove, Kira.”
He feels pinned down, hollow, more like the dead dove underneath the hard rubber tire than the fretting, living one. “How did you find me?” His own throat burns as he barks to her, twisting his body slightly to glance at her. She holds a bouquet in the offhand, rose petals all a velvety white.
“We all miss her.”
“Not as much as I do.” A bitter reply. They're all he can give these days, he thinks.
“I know.” Her own face is slack, whitened in pain. “I know.”
“You don't.” Her hand's presence is suddenly overwhelming; he shrugs it off with a frown.
She replaces it as if the rude gesture had not happened. “I know that I would feel like terribly, just as you do now, if something happened to my brother.” Her head places itself on the tip of his shoulder, beside her hand, face tipped up toward his ear. She's taller. I haven't realized.
“Nothing will happen to me.” This is something he wants desperately yet never knows the gift's been received until death calls from the dark depths of his body. The melancholy playing out on her face makes him pray nothing will happen. She's tender enough, stretched thin enough to shatter if anything further hurts her. A safe-guarded spot of his heart doesn't want her to break.
“You never know.” The tips of her lips, of her delicate mouth, are drooped, autumn eyes tinged with a certain sadness. Athrun told the same thing to her long ago, told her not to worry about their relationship. Now look at him. More bitterness.
“Why aren't you there?” He knows Cagalli isn't the kind to cry over something as trivial as a man's affections. He knows she's too strong to let herself even let her lip quiver over a man. She must only be here for him.
“I was worried about you.” Focus more on yourself, Cagalli. I can tell you're hurting.
“You shouldn't be. You should be talking with a handsome man, someone that will make you happy. You should be dancing with him, having fun. Not here, comforting me when you shouldn't be.”
“You make me happy, Kira. I love you,” she says, her voice something more than a whisper, a hesitant whisper, as it floats to his ear. “I only want you to be as happy as I am.” Sincere. She, despite present appearances, is happy.
“I am.” It's hard to say, but the warmth of her lithe fingers on his shoulder, the slight pressure of her head upon it, helped his heart force out the words. That heated hand slides down his arm and grabbed his tightly, fingers weaving together as though the siblings would be torn apart any second.
She fixes him with a calm stare. She's trying to read his complicated dark eyes and finds her answer. “I believe you.” The white bouquet is carefully leaned against the tombstone, on top of a bundle of pinkish lilies. One of the luminous petals catches on a torn, ripping it in half. Startlingly white like a dove. Unmoving as a dead one.
He squeezes Cagalli's hand, grateful for finally having something to reach for in his pain. The fingers of his other hand brush the ragged stone of the grave. It's not as comforting as it had been, but still something lifted from his shoulders.
His lips touch the blond's. “Thank you.” She is surprised for the briefest of a moment as she fidgets. She is pleased. His fingers graze the grave again, the tips of the nails breaking into microscopic fractures. “Goodbye, Lacus.”
The grave gate makes a soft click behind them.
or here at ff.net: here.