Just because
Title: Compromise
Fandom: Dir en grey
Pairing: Kyo/Kaoru, if you squint
Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.
Rating: G
Warning: no beta
Summary: The places where you find your inspiration perhaps tell more about you than the finished piece itself.
Word count: 1320
A/N: This is a little snippet I wrote in a burst of inspiration about a year ago, and finally decided to share. Lyrics taken from 24ko Cylinder.
---
Ankles crossed, papers spread all over my lap, I watch him strumming on the guitar. A note here, a sequence there. His face is set in the frowns of deep concentration, scribbling down notes on a piece of paper here and there. He is so engrossed in work he doesn't even notice. I turn my eyes back to the sheets before me, trying to concentrate.
Sometimes, words just buzz through mind mind, uninvited, from time to time, unwelcome, even. Sometimes, they drag to the surface strings of thoughts like pieces of a broken mosaic waiting to be put together again. Sometimes, I scribble them down and they come alive, sometimes they just wither away like empty husks without a meaning.
They are not coming now. I try to think of the things I have seen, heard, the pain that is out there, eternal and compelling in its beautiful reign of terror. But not today, I can't seem to feel it. Nightmares that didn't let me sleep announce their late effect, and I'm just too content to lean back and watch his lone silhouette against the faint light from under lowered lids.
It's always the same, the rays on his hair, the graceful movements of his hands, the stoic man in the light. Yet, it's never the same, he is never the same, even if I know him as the back of my hand. Suddenly, it feels like a sin to even blink, because then the moment is lost forever, and the image only remains suspended in a flow of memories. Suddenly, I don't want to lose it.
It's a battle I can't win, and yet I try fighting. It's just how I am. He would probably laugh at me if he knew what I'm thinking. Then again, perhaps not. Kaoru has always understood me on a level no one else has, something beyond words and gestures. Then I blink, and he is still there, the same - and not the same. Awkwardly, I scribble on the paper on my thigh.
full of contradictions
I chew on the end of the pen, then let my hand fall back into my lap uselessly. The words just refuse to come forth. I look out the window, seeking distraction, something, anything. I think it'll rain soon, the air is stuffy and electric, it presses down heavily on the city. I feel lazy, yet strangely restless. I shift, stare at the paper again, and sigh when it becomes boring all over again. Frustrating.
Something lingers on my mind, forming on the soft resonance of solitary notes vibrating in the air, full of skittish tension like they want to capture the atmosphere of the calm before the storm. I play along a string of words, trying to find the one that can set the universe into motion against its will if mine is greater. Contradiction, compulsion, creation, convulsion... compromise. I almost flinch back from the word as it flashes in my mind with sudden clarity.
Compromises. They are like ugly medicine. You sometimes have to swallow it, and Kaoru makes sure I do. The only person in this rotten world who can do it, convince me somehow that it'll make things better, feed me the poison bit by bit that would otherwise kill me.
Give me nothing, I write, and I feel something taking over, mind running away from me to chase dethroned ideals to grieve over. There is something in this static afternoon, something in need of expression, forming, needing to be born, but it is so vague yet, a shadow of a feeling like a movement deep under the water that disturbs the surface.
Kaoru. Compromise. Time. Change. Medicine. Surface.
I remember the day that we met, two strangers in a crowd of mutual acquitances. I don't really know how we ended up talking in a corner. Maybe I should ask him one of these days. But the fact of the matter is that we did, and after months of unsuccessful search, I was recruiting him into the band by the second round. It was a strange sort of understanding, more a compulsion than a want.
It all seems so long ago, and yet not, like I can still smell the smoke and the booze and the freshly lacquered wood. Well over a decade now, and here we are, the same men and yet so much have changed since then. Some of them good, some of them bad... so much, and yet, it seems so little when pinned against things that will never change.
Time. Change. Ends. Beginnings. Unmoving. Unstoppable. Past. Present.
Contradictions.
The here and the now I cling to.
Time will end time will change me, you, now, will be branded into the flow of time, the words spill easy now, they echo in dark corners of my inner workings, lazily like raptors flapping their wings, circling the sky in widening ellipses. They gallop through my conscious like horses bred for war, and the pen slides along paper faster and faster. The time is changing, the passage of time burns me, you, now. The time is over, the time will stop, at the end of the time...
I try to stifle a yawn, but a second too late do I realise I can't, hand flying to my mouth, almost managing to poke myself in the eye with the pen. I groan and look up when I hear him chuckle, just to find him looking back, smiling that shy little half-smile of his, warring with an attempt to look serious. How long could he have been watching me? I lose track of time so easily when I'm in my own world. "Sorry..."
"You can take a nap if you want, you know," he says, and I laugh.
"Nah," I mumble, fighting another yawn. It's the air, this stale, lazy air of the too warm afternoon, the peace of sitting here without a care in the world because the only eyes around I need not hide from. Maybe I could just... rest my eyes a bit. Yeah.
Give me nothing full of contradictions...
"Sure you don't," he says, and I crack an eye open just in time to see him bite back a chuckle as he leans back down to the guitar, searching the strings for a melody just the same way as I reach out to the words and embrace them. You laugh as you look down, I scribble a new line.
"Do you remember what I said when we first met?" I ask with my eyes closed. It's a silly question, really, because we talked about many things... but he knows what I mean regardless.
"You said you didn't want any compromises when it came to the music."
"And you said that if I can't find my own compromises, the compromises will find me," I smile at the memory. "I think you were right."
He hums a little and goes back to making his instrument sing, but I know he is mulling it over in the silence that stretches between us. He is my compromise, the one who sculpts my pain into sound, the one who tied himself to my path of destruction and made me his compromise against his former world. Nothing more, nothing less. Unmoving. Unstoppable.
I can tell this will be a great song. As I drift off, I can feel it thrum through my veins with my heartbeat like a slow march towards destruction and victory. Forming, becoming...
Time will end time will change me, you, now, will be branded into the flow of time, time will stop at the end of time... at the end of time we'll...
When I wake up, yes, when I wake up, I just know it'll be there, perfect and twisted and whole, while he plays and watches over me as I... watches... as I...
sleep in this love without warmth
Fandom: Dir en grey
Pairing: Kyo/Kaoru, if you squint
Disclaimer: I don't own them, they own me.
Rating: G
Warning: no beta
Summary: The places where you find your inspiration perhaps tell more about you than the finished piece itself.
Word count: 1320
A/N: This is a little snippet I wrote in a burst of inspiration about a year ago, and finally decided to share. Lyrics taken from 24ko Cylinder.
---
Ankles crossed, papers spread all over my lap, I watch him strumming on the guitar. A note here, a sequence there. His face is set in the frowns of deep concentration, scribbling down notes on a piece of paper here and there. He is so engrossed in work he doesn't even notice. I turn my eyes back to the sheets before me, trying to concentrate.
Sometimes, words just buzz through mind mind, uninvited, from time to time, unwelcome, even. Sometimes, they drag to the surface strings of thoughts like pieces of a broken mosaic waiting to be put together again. Sometimes, I scribble them down and they come alive, sometimes they just wither away like empty husks without a meaning.
They are not coming now. I try to think of the things I have seen, heard, the pain that is out there, eternal and compelling in its beautiful reign of terror. But not today, I can't seem to feel it. Nightmares that didn't let me sleep announce their late effect, and I'm just too content to lean back and watch his lone silhouette against the faint light from under lowered lids.
It's always the same, the rays on his hair, the graceful movements of his hands, the stoic man in the light. Yet, it's never the same, he is never the same, even if I know him as the back of my hand. Suddenly, it feels like a sin to even blink, because then the moment is lost forever, and the image only remains suspended in a flow of memories. Suddenly, I don't want to lose it.
It's a battle I can't win, and yet I try fighting. It's just how I am. He would probably laugh at me if he knew what I'm thinking. Then again, perhaps not. Kaoru has always understood me on a level no one else has, something beyond words and gestures. Then I blink, and he is still there, the same - and not the same. Awkwardly, I scribble on the paper on my thigh.
full of contradictions
I chew on the end of the pen, then let my hand fall back into my lap uselessly. The words just refuse to come forth. I look out the window, seeking distraction, something, anything. I think it'll rain soon, the air is stuffy and electric, it presses down heavily on the city. I feel lazy, yet strangely restless. I shift, stare at the paper again, and sigh when it becomes boring all over again. Frustrating.
Something lingers on my mind, forming on the soft resonance of solitary notes vibrating in the air, full of skittish tension like they want to capture the atmosphere of the calm before the storm. I play along a string of words, trying to find the one that can set the universe into motion against its will if mine is greater. Contradiction, compulsion, creation, convulsion... compromise. I almost flinch back from the word as it flashes in my mind with sudden clarity.
Compromises. They are like ugly medicine. You sometimes have to swallow it, and Kaoru makes sure I do. The only person in this rotten world who can do it, convince me somehow that it'll make things better, feed me the poison bit by bit that would otherwise kill me.
Give me nothing, I write, and I feel something taking over, mind running away from me to chase dethroned ideals to grieve over. There is something in this static afternoon, something in need of expression, forming, needing to be born, but it is so vague yet, a shadow of a feeling like a movement deep under the water that disturbs the surface.
Kaoru. Compromise. Time. Change. Medicine. Surface.
I remember the day that we met, two strangers in a crowd of mutual acquitances. I don't really know how we ended up talking in a corner. Maybe I should ask him one of these days. But the fact of the matter is that we did, and after months of unsuccessful search, I was recruiting him into the band by the second round. It was a strange sort of understanding, more a compulsion than a want.
It all seems so long ago, and yet not, like I can still smell the smoke and the booze and the freshly lacquered wood. Well over a decade now, and here we are, the same men and yet so much have changed since then. Some of them good, some of them bad... so much, and yet, it seems so little when pinned against things that will never change.
Time. Change. Ends. Beginnings. Unmoving. Unstoppable. Past. Present.
Contradictions.
The here and the now I cling to.
Time will end time will change me, you, now, will be branded into the flow of time, the words spill easy now, they echo in dark corners of my inner workings, lazily like raptors flapping their wings, circling the sky in widening ellipses. They gallop through my conscious like horses bred for war, and the pen slides along paper faster and faster. The time is changing, the passage of time burns me, you, now. The time is over, the time will stop, at the end of the time...
I try to stifle a yawn, but a second too late do I realise I can't, hand flying to my mouth, almost managing to poke myself in the eye with the pen. I groan and look up when I hear him chuckle, just to find him looking back, smiling that shy little half-smile of his, warring with an attempt to look serious. How long could he have been watching me? I lose track of time so easily when I'm in my own world. "Sorry..."
"You can take a nap if you want, you know," he says, and I laugh.
"Nah," I mumble, fighting another yawn. It's the air, this stale, lazy air of the too warm afternoon, the peace of sitting here without a care in the world because the only eyes around I need not hide from. Maybe I could just... rest my eyes a bit. Yeah.
Give me nothing full of contradictions...
"Sure you don't," he says, and I crack an eye open just in time to see him bite back a chuckle as he leans back down to the guitar, searching the strings for a melody just the same way as I reach out to the words and embrace them. You laugh as you look down, I scribble a new line.
"Do you remember what I said when we first met?" I ask with my eyes closed. It's a silly question, really, because we talked about many things... but he knows what I mean regardless.
"You said you didn't want any compromises when it came to the music."
"And you said that if I can't find my own compromises, the compromises will find me," I smile at the memory. "I think you were right."
He hums a little and goes back to making his instrument sing, but I know he is mulling it over in the silence that stretches between us. He is my compromise, the one who sculpts my pain into sound, the one who tied himself to my path of destruction and made me his compromise against his former world. Nothing more, nothing less. Unmoving. Unstoppable.
I can tell this will be a great song. As I drift off, I can feel it thrum through my veins with my heartbeat like a slow march towards destruction and victory. Forming, becoming...
Time will end time will change me, you, now, will be branded into the flow of time, time will stop at the end of time... at the end of time we'll...
When I wake up, yes, when I wake up, I just know it'll be there, perfect and twisted and whole, while he plays and watches over me as I... watches... as I...
sleep in this love without warmth