Fic: The Hollow Man
The Hollow Man, Ten/Rose, G, Instead he deflects, he puts off, he tries to do anything except let her see how much this is killing him, too. He fails at that. 373 words
A/N: Excerpts are from the poem The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot. Also, serious Doomsday angst.
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
He cannot look at her and yet he cannot look away. The pain in her eyes is enough to shatter him, enough for him to wish he did not have eyes that could see. He wants to wipe away her pain and her fear and her devastation. He can do nothing. No touch. No touching her ever again. Three hearts are dying in this barren place.
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
He doesn’t want it to be true. He doesn’t want to never see her again. He cannot bear to never hold her in his arms, not even once. He cannot find the words that even come close to conveying what he wants to say. Instead he deflects, he puts off, he tries to do anything except let her see how much this is killing him, too. He fails at that. His empty eyes won’t focus on the beach and instead they stray back to her and are filled. He knows their time will be up soon. He knows his eyes will be empty again, as lonely as his hand is without hers, as vacant as his hearts will be.
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
He wishes so hard that he could find the perpetual star, fire it into nova forever, something that could power his return for her. It doesn’t exist. He knows the hope is false, the hope of an empty man, that he will never get her back. It deadens everything within him and hollows him out.
She’s gone.
He tries to cry out in his agony, but a stifled sob chokes it back. He knows, he’s always known…
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
A/N: Excerpts are from the poem The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot. Also, serious Doomsday angst.
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
He cannot look at her and yet he cannot look away. The pain in her eyes is enough to shatter him, enough for him to wish he did not have eyes that could see. He wants to wipe away her pain and her fear and her devastation. He can do nothing. No touch. No touching her ever again. Three hearts are dying in this barren place.
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
He doesn’t want it to be true. He doesn’t want to never see her again. He cannot bear to never hold her in his arms, not even once. He cannot find the words that even come close to conveying what he wants to say. Instead he deflects, he puts off, he tries to do anything except let her see how much this is killing him, too. He fails at that. His empty eyes won’t focus on the beach and instead they stray back to her and are filled. He knows their time will be up soon. He knows his eyes will be empty again, as lonely as his hand is without hers, as vacant as his hearts will be.
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
He wishes so hard that he could find the perpetual star, fire it into nova forever, something that could power his return for her. It doesn’t exist. He knows the hope is false, the hope of an empty man, that he will never get her back. It deadens everything within him and hollows him out.
She’s gone.
He tries to cry out in his agony, but a stifled sob chokes it back. He knows, he’s always known…
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.