[Orig] This I Believe (31days)
Title: This I Believe
Day/Theme: 31_days September 3 -- IT GETS UNDER YOUR SKIN, LIFE
Series: Original -- Stockholm Syndrome
Pairing: Lucian/Jonathan
Author's Notes: I'm testing myself if I can write at all if I'm in a different, unfamiliar territory--aka, the library. lol This is supposed to be a drabble, but I got carried away so... enjoy! :D
This I Believe
31_days, September 3
It never takes long for me to realize just how much of your words are the truth, and how much are just lies. A second short of a minute, sometimes almost instantaneous, but usually in just a blink of the eye.
I must admit though that it definitely takes me longer to know the motives behind your false words. It almost seems inplausible for you to be doing something for another's sake. Hence I was truly surprised when I found out that you denied yourself the power to rule the Famiglia because you believed it isn't rightfully yours, that it only belongs to its right owner. I must say I was truly impressed by such feat, such rare display of humility and self-righteousness.
I can say though, honestly, that I'm still impressed by the end of the night. Then again, I'm not complaining.
So here we are now, with you behind your grand desk, signing away papers with credibilities I truly questions. With all due respect, I know you are wary of these people, of their delusional offers, but sometimes, you give me the impression that you really don't bother about what it entails in the near future. Remember that incident with the Kritiker? I know it is one of our best decisions, one of our legacies that will never fade, but you have to agree it's also not one of the easiest. In fact, truth to be told, I suffered the worst headache I ever had every single night because of it.
Imagine not having a good 7 hour of sleep for three months. Yes, you may not be aware of it, but let me tell you the real deal. Those two idiots and I didn't have a decent bed rest in the span of those three agonizing months. What we had were only naps and the occasional head-rollings. I never thought that I'll experience falling asleep in the middle of typing. You know what it feels like after waking up from it? It feels like someone had axed my head without really severing it. I know you never experience it, because you happen to the kind of person who falls asleep mid-work sprawling all over the table, head conveniently nestled by your arms that it made me ponder at most if you indeed sincerely fell asleep, or if you planned it right from the beginning.
Then again, knowing you... ah, nevermind. I'd rather not speak about you and your insufferable habits.
You pause a little, eyes on the contract you're reading (and hopefully understanding with complete focus) with your hand hoveirng a little from the desk.
You know what I notice about you since years ago? You never lean your arm on the table when you work, when you write, or when you type. You always keep them away from contact with the table, and seriously, I can't figure out why. Is this just an unconscious habit of yours? A proof of your seriousness? Or is it a sign of your insecurities, a smaller depiction of your hard-headedness, of always relying on no one but yourself, as if you don't want to show it to anyone that you need a support?
"What do you think is the best way to tell them that it's highly impossible for the Family to agree to this?" You ask, your dark eyes flickering towards me. Despite the hand shying your lips, I know they're quirked into the slightest smile.
I walk forward, leaning my weight on the side of the desk as I gaze at you with the equal intensity you constantly give me. Frankly, I find this very sexy--your eyes very sexy.
"You burn it," is simply my answer, and it makes me giddy a little that it made you laugh quite loudly. And when I notice you wouldn't be saying anything with how you keep on choking on your own laughter, I couldn't keep myself from hitting you upside the head, my eyes narrowing and lips frowning at your sudden mirth.
"I'm sorry," you apologize, yet I can still feel your amusement at this. "It's just that your suggestion is a bit too much, don't you think?"
"Then what did you think of?"
He's quiet for a minute, his lips returning to its slight smile as he stare off at the far distance. I can't dare myself, of all things, to interrupt such insightful look. So, I just tilt my head to the left, eyes gazing at how you lose your consciousness when you think, as if you're entering another world and enjoying another scenery, grabbing your ideas from them.
It makes me envious at most times that you can do such and I can't, that I'm always tied to reality, always chained to negativity and cynism. And truly I wish that I have your idealistic views and hopes and optimism.
"Oh, nevermind. I'll think of something for this later."
And as you set that parchment aside, I can't help but smile fondly at you, and you in turn return that smile with the same kind of affection.
At least this love, this strong attachment you have for me, this unbreakable bond we have, is the truth, and that there is no reason, not a single one, that can disprove me and make me doubt your true feelings.
Day/Theme: 31_days September 3 -- IT GETS UNDER YOUR SKIN, LIFE
Series: Original -- Stockholm Syndrome
Pairing: Lucian/Jonathan
Author's Notes: I'm testing myself if I can write at all if I'm in a different, unfamiliar territory--aka, the library. lol This is supposed to be a drabble, but I got carried away so... enjoy! :D
This I Believe
31_days, September 3
It never takes long for me to realize just how much of your words are the truth, and how much are just lies. A second short of a minute, sometimes almost instantaneous, but usually in just a blink of the eye.
I must admit though that it definitely takes me longer to know the motives behind your false words. It almost seems inplausible for you to be doing something for another's sake. Hence I was truly surprised when I found out that you denied yourself the power to rule the Famiglia because you believed it isn't rightfully yours, that it only belongs to its right owner. I must say I was truly impressed by such feat, such rare display of humility and self-righteousness.
I can say though, honestly, that I'm still impressed by the end of the night. Then again, I'm not complaining.
So here we are now, with you behind your grand desk, signing away papers with credibilities I truly questions. With all due respect, I know you are wary of these people, of their delusional offers, but sometimes, you give me the impression that you really don't bother about what it entails in the near future. Remember that incident with the Kritiker? I know it is one of our best decisions, one of our legacies that will never fade, but you have to agree it's also not one of the easiest. In fact, truth to be told, I suffered the worst headache I ever had every single night because of it.
Imagine not having a good 7 hour of sleep for three months. Yes, you may not be aware of it, but let me tell you the real deal. Those two idiots and I didn't have a decent bed rest in the span of those three agonizing months. What we had were only naps and the occasional head-rollings. I never thought that I'll experience falling asleep in the middle of typing. You know what it feels like after waking up from it? It feels like someone had axed my head without really severing it. I know you never experience it, because you happen to the kind of person who falls asleep mid-work sprawling all over the table, head conveniently nestled by your arms that it made me ponder at most if you indeed sincerely fell asleep, or if you planned it right from the beginning.
Then again, knowing you... ah, nevermind. I'd rather not speak about you and your insufferable habits.
You pause a little, eyes on the contract you're reading (and hopefully understanding with complete focus) with your hand hoveirng a little from the desk.
You know what I notice about you since years ago? You never lean your arm on the table when you work, when you write, or when you type. You always keep them away from contact with the table, and seriously, I can't figure out why. Is this just an unconscious habit of yours? A proof of your seriousness? Or is it a sign of your insecurities, a smaller depiction of your hard-headedness, of always relying on no one but yourself, as if you don't want to show it to anyone that you need a support?
"What do you think is the best way to tell them that it's highly impossible for the Family to agree to this?" You ask, your dark eyes flickering towards me. Despite the hand shying your lips, I know they're quirked into the slightest smile.
I walk forward, leaning my weight on the side of the desk as I gaze at you with the equal intensity you constantly give me. Frankly, I find this very sexy--your eyes very sexy.
"You burn it," is simply my answer, and it makes me giddy a little that it made you laugh quite loudly. And when I notice you wouldn't be saying anything with how you keep on choking on your own laughter, I couldn't keep myself from hitting you upside the head, my eyes narrowing and lips frowning at your sudden mirth.
"I'm sorry," you apologize, yet I can still feel your amusement at this. "It's just that your suggestion is a bit too much, don't you think?"
"Then what did you think of?"
He's quiet for a minute, his lips returning to its slight smile as he stare off at the far distance. I can't dare myself, of all things, to interrupt such insightful look. So, I just tilt my head to the left, eyes gazing at how you lose your consciousness when you think, as if you're entering another world and enjoying another scenery, grabbing your ideas from them.
It makes me envious at most times that you can do such and I can't, that I'm always tied to reality, always chained to negativity and cynism. And truly I wish that I have your idealistic views and hopes and optimism.
"Oh, nevermind. I'll think of something for this later."
And as you set that parchment aside, I can't help but smile fondly at you, and you in turn return that smile with the same kind of affection.
At least this love, this strong attachment you have for me, this unbreakable bond we have, is the truth, and that there is no reason, not a single one, that can disprove me and make me doubt your true feelings.