The little AU: Summer lights: distance
The little AU: Summer lights: distance
slashfairy
“Some people spend their entire lives reading but never get beyond reading the words on the page, they don't understand that the words are merely stepping stones placed across a fast-flowing river, and the reason they're there is so that we can reach the farther shore, it's the other side that matters.”
-Jose Saramago
They meet in London, quietly.
Orlando makes no special mention of the ring on his little finger, there since Paris. Viggo makes no mention at all of the bruise on his arm, a tetanus shot given after he matched wits with something sharp and hard, and lost.
They don't have a lot of time, but it's enough: there's a chapter- a story- to finish, and another to start, and the journey's not- journeys aren't- over yet.
Dinner in the rooms. A hot shower. A long lingering fuck, and restless [without Karl], then, comfortably peaceful [remembering he loves them], sleep. In the morning there's packing of clothes and misplacing of toothbrushes, information exchanged, promises kept and made.
Orlando's not leaving the house at the end of the bluff road. But he's- well, call it a parallel path, for now, that he's on, and who knows who he'll be bringing with him as the years go on.
In the meantime, there's no end to love, and no end to life, except on the other side. And they've not reached that, yet.
[a/n ~ Quote & article from Perceval Press]
José Saramago wiki article
Blindness (novel)
Article in El País (Spanish) (Google-translated into English)
slashfairy
“Some people spend their entire lives reading but never get beyond reading the words on the page, they don't understand that the words are merely stepping stones placed across a fast-flowing river, and the reason they're there is so that we can reach the farther shore, it's the other side that matters.”
-Jose Saramago
They meet in London, quietly.
Orlando makes no special mention of the ring on his little finger, there since Paris. Viggo makes no mention at all of the bruise on his arm, a tetanus shot given after he matched wits with something sharp and hard, and lost.
They don't have a lot of time, but it's enough: there's a chapter- a story- to finish, and another to start, and the journey's not- journeys aren't- over yet.
Dinner in the rooms. A hot shower. A long lingering fuck, and restless [without Karl], then, comfortably peaceful [remembering he loves them], sleep. In the morning there's packing of clothes and misplacing of toothbrushes, information exchanged, promises kept and made.
Orlando's not leaving the house at the end of the bluff road. But he's- well, call it a parallel path, for now, that he's on, and who knows who he'll be bringing with him as the years go on.
In the meantime, there's no end to love, and no end to life, except on the other side. And they've not reached that, yet.
[a/n ~ Quote & article from Perceval Press]
José Saramago wiki article
Blindness (novel)
Article in El País (Spanish) (Google-translated into English)