Fic: Yami no Matsuei - Guide Me Gently (Saki, Kazutaka)
Challenge/Theme: 039: Playing House
Rating: PG for imagery
Summary: Saki is sleepless. [Saki’s POV.]
Saki can’t sleep. He tosses, he turns, he stretches, he beats his fists against the pillows, and turns to wander the empty halls with bloodshot eyes, like the shadow of a ghost; restless. He wants to sleep.
No, he wants to walk to his brother’s room, to wake him and steal his sleep, his innocence, his life and take his place. He wants to walk in his brother’s skin, and it claws at him, constantly, deep in his chest, driving him mad with hunger.
No, he wants to be soothed, embraced by velvety warm blood or frozen limbs long dead. He doesn’t want his brother’s mother. He wants to be taken by the night, to hide himself in her arms, make a small place for himself in her coffin. He wants to belong with her.
No, he wants to hide from this shell his brother calls ‘Mother’, he doesn’t want to believe, to be led by her lies. He stands over them, curled together like two pieces of the same soul; red frills from his brother’s china-doll dress, dampened slightly by her parted lips. He sees so many things; death, and want, and greed and sin…a puppet and strings.
He leaves them there, hopes they never wake and rot before they die. He makes his bed, miles from her gave, and dreams his hollow dreams.
But in his sleep he says a prayer and reaches for her hand.
- Sarrasi
07/08/05
Rating: PG for imagery
Summary: Saki is sleepless. [Saki’s POV.]
Saki can’t sleep. He tosses, he turns, he stretches, he beats his fists against the pillows, and turns to wander the empty halls with bloodshot eyes, like the shadow of a ghost; restless. He wants to sleep.
No, he wants to walk to his brother’s room, to wake him and steal his sleep, his innocence, his life and take his place. He wants to walk in his brother’s skin, and it claws at him, constantly, deep in his chest, driving him mad with hunger.
No, he wants to be soothed, embraced by velvety warm blood or frozen limbs long dead. He doesn’t want his brother’s mother. He wants to be taken by the night, to hide himself in her arms, make a small place for himself in her coffin. He wants to belong with her.
No, he wants to hide from this shell his brother calls ‘Mother’, he doesn’t want to believe, to be led by her lies. He stands over them, curled together like two pieces of the same soul; red frills from his brother’s china-doll dress, dampened slightly by her parted lips. He sees so many things; death, and want, and greed and sin…a puppet and strings.
He leaves them there, hopes they never wake and rot before they die. He makes his bed, miles from her gave, and dreams his hollow dreams.
But in his sleep he says a prayer and reaches for her hand.
- Sarrasi
07/08/05