Fic: One Day (Mal/Inara)
Title: One Day
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: Mal/Inara
Prompt: #015 The Future
Word Count: 477
Rating: T+
Summary: "Inara." His voice is husky and deep.
Notes: Written for joss100. 28/08/08.
Her eyes glisten. Tears, like tiny crystalline bubbles, leave salty trails down her cheeks. Her skin almost glows from the moisture gathered there. A wound mars her left cheek and although it is merely a scratch, it is what breaks him.
"Inara." His voice is husky and deep.
She stares up at him from where she crouches on the ground. Her usual defiance and strength is nowhere to be seen. It scares him.
He takes a step forward and then another. Another step.
She still feels too far away.
"Inara," he repeats.
Swallowing, she continues to watch him. She doesn't say a word.
He moves closer and closer and bends down beside her. He pays no mind to the rest of the crew around them and reaches out to brush a finger along her jaw line and just underneath her wound. He studies it, assesses it.
It shouldn't have happened. She didn't deserve this. Any of this. None of them did.
His eyes slide from her injury to meet her eyes. He feels like he could easily drown in their deep, brown, captivating depths. He feels drawn to them, drawn to her.
He wants to forget everything and give in to the desire, but can't seem to let go of the horrifying images burnt into his brain. Her expression suggests she too is reliving recent events.
He clenches his jaw. "Inara, you doin' okay?" He doesn't expect a verbal answer. He can barely find the words to say, himself.
She shakes her head and it's like she injected poison into his heart. Pain. Screaming pain. All of it's for her.
"I...I'm not doin' too well myself," he admits. His eyes burn as tears prick at them. His vision blurs.
Before he knows what he's doing, he's reaching for Inara and pulling her close to him, being careful as to not to disturb the wound on her face. He's burying his head in the crook of her neck and letting his fears and his pain out in the form of salty, wet tears.
He can feel her own tears begin to soak their way through his shirt.
He strokes her hair.
"We'll be okay," he says softly. "We'll be okay."
She pulls back slowly and looks him in the eyes. "I hope you're right."
He recalls the Battle of Serenity Valley and the sharp realisation that he was alone, the Browncoats were alone. He recalls the pain he felt when they were given the order to surrender. He recalls the moment he lost what had mattered to him so fiercely before the war: his faith.
He sees the same hopelessness in Inara's expression.
"I am right," he tells her firmly. "One day, maybe not for a long while, but one day, we'll be okay."
He takes her hand in his and squeezes it gently.
"We'll get through this."
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: Mal/Inara
Prompt: #015 The Future
Word Count: 477
Rating: T+
Summary: "Inara." His voice is husky and deep.
Notes: Written for joss100. 28/08/08.
Her eyes glisten. Tears, like tiny crystalline bubbles, leave salty trails down her cheeks. Her skin almost glows from the moisture gathered there. A wound mars her left cheek and although it is merely a scratch, it is what breaks him.
"Inara." His voice is husky and deep.
She stares up at him from where she crouches on the ground. Her usual defiance and strength is nowhere to be seen. It scares him.
He takes a step forward and then another. Another step.
She still feels too far away.
"Inara," he repeats.
Swallowing, she continues to watch him. She doesn't say a word.
He moves closer and closer and bends down beside her. He pays no mind to the rest of the crew around them and reaches out to brush a finger along her jaw line and just underneath her wound. He studies it, assesses it.
It shouldn't have happened. She didn't deserve this. Any of this. None of them did.
His eyes slide from her injury to meet her eyes. He feels like he could easily drown in their deep, brown, captivating depths. He feels drawn to them, drawn to her.
He wants to forget everything and give in to the desire, but can't seem to let go of the horrifying images burnt into his brain. Her expression suggests she too is reliving recent events.
He clenches his jaw. "Inara, you doin' okay?" He doesn't expect a verbal answer. He can barely find the words to say, himself.
She shakes her head and it's like she injected poison into his heart. Pain. Screaming pain. All of it's for her.
"I...I'm not doin' too well myself," he admits. His eyes burn as tears prick at them. His vision blurs.
Before he knows what he's doing, he's reaching for Inara and pulling her close to him, being careful as to not to disturb the wound on her face. He's burying his head in the crook of her neck and letting his fears and his pain out in the form of salty, wet tears.
He can feel her own tears begin to soak their way through his shirt.
He strokes her hair.
"We'll be okay," he says softly. "We'll be okay."
She pulls back slowly and looks him in the eyes. "I hope you're right."
He recalls the Battle of Serenity Valley and the sharp realisation that he was alone, the Browncoats were alone. He recalls the pain he felt when they were given the order to surrender. He recalls the moment he lost what had mattered to him so fiercely before the war: his faith.
He sees the same hopelessness in Inara's expression.
"I am right," he tells her firmly. "One day, maybe not for a long while, but one day, we'll be okay."
He takes her hand in his and squeezes it gently.
"We'll get through this."