I never meant to cause you trouble and I never meant to do you wrong [lol, more fic!]
TIME FOR MORE MIRACLES HOT DAMN.
Title: a pirate’s map of buried treasure
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Wordcount: 1016
Summary: "Maybe I should fight harder for you but I said I'd let you go when you wanted me to"
A/N: Written for iambickilometer in exchange for his BODY (because sillyangelfaery already has claim on his SOUL, but that's a whole different ship to sail). She requested future!fic written to his angst mix. Voila. (He also wanted a happy ending. I'll let you discover for yourselves whether or not I followed up on that prompt). Also, second person FTW!
Warnings?: UNBETAED as are all my fics. EDITS ARE LOVE PLZTHNX. :D
You stand in the back and stare up the aisle at Watanuki, who is nervously shifting in place, hands reaching to straighten his immaculate tuxedo jacket. You stare and stare and had never expected this to be the ending. You stare past the rows and rows of people (who the hell are these people anyway? Watanuki couldn’t possibly know all of them). Then loud music blasts seemingly right into your eardrums and you resist the urge to plug your ears like old times. The Girl enters, in customary white, looking as beautiful as always. She comes up to the front and smiles at Watanuki, who smiles back. Your hands curl into helpless fists.
Kunogi makes her way over to you, being as quiet as possible so as to not interrupt the ceremony. An old man drones in the background and Kunogi touches your arm gently, looking up at you with worried eyes. She can touch you, just for today, without any risks. (It was her wish to Yuuko, to not miss one of the most important days of Watanuki’s life. You don’t want to know the price).
“What are you going to do?” she asks you softly.
“Let him go,” you murmur roughly in return, and can’t stop the vague hitch of your breath. The concern in her eyes darkens.
“Doumeki-kun,” she whispers urgently, but never gets to finish as a woman turns in her seat and glares. You brush Kunogi's hand off and move away, ever so slightly.
Despite her meddling (meddling is too negative; you know she really does want you to be happy, but you can’t help feeling slightly bitter at her interference) you won’t change your mind. As long as he is safe and happy, well, that’s all that really matters. You won’t begrudge him this, a normal, healthy romance. He courted her in the traditional manner, with open affection, instead of heavy denial, and flailing, and hidden meanings and something stifling that never felt like a romance
The droning in the distance cuts off and you realize that the whole room (except for you, of course) is hanging on the edge of their seats waiting for Watanuki’s answer. His eyes look down at her, and he looks so certain, but he brings his gaze back up and it glances hesitantly in your direction for an odd breathless moment.
You have to get out.
::1.0.4::
This should be one of the happiest days off his life, but something feels off from the moment he wakes up. He attributes this to nervousness and moves on with preparations. The feeling is still there in his gut when he waits for her before the ceremony. He has to keep reminding himself not to look in Doumeki’s direction. When she finally does sweep towards him, he feels a flush sweep through him. She really is beautiful. Watanuki waits through the long-winded speech of ceremony trying to look like he’s paying absolute attention while killing time until it was his turn. For a moment he doesn’t realize that the old man has stopped pattering on and it is his turn. He glances down at her again and yes, he does love her. Unfortunately, his gaze flickers over to focus on Doumeki as he opens his mouth. His breath catches and his heart simultaneously leaps into his throat and aches at the look on Doumeki’s face. Like his heart is breaking but he’s absolutely too ridiculously stubborn to show it. Their eyes lock for a second and Doumeki’s eyes have a strange panicked look about them (when has he gotten this good at reading Doumeki?). His former archer turns tail and leaves, slipping unobtrusively out the door. Watanuki can’t breathe, can’t think and he’s stricken with the sudden urge to follow Doumeki. He regards his bride-to-be again to reassure himself and realizes that while he does love her, he doesn’t love her enough, or the most.
“Sorry,” he chokes out, “I can’t. I just…can’t. Sorry.”
And he turns and runs out as well, praying Shizuka hasn’t gone far, because the moments between when the archer had left and he’d given his answer had felt like an eternity and half a breath at the same time. Not far down the street he can see the familiar solitary figure, faintly hunched shoulders and slightly lowered head giving Doumeki a miserable impression.
“Doumeki!” he calls, “Wait!”
But his cry is drowned in the sounds of traffic and a sudden prolific stream of profanities from an infuriated driver.
“Shizuka!” he tries this time, and Doumeki’s given name rings out in the sudden calm. Doumeki pivots slowly and looks genuinely shocked that Watanuki is coming towards him.
::1.0.4::
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?” you demand bitterly.
“I…no, I’m not…I mean,” Watanuki tries to get out. “I couldn’t…”
“I thought you loved her.”
“I did, I mean, I do, but-”
“What are you waiting for, then?”
“WOULD YOU LET ME FINISH?!” Watanuki snaps, sounding more like himself.
“…”
“Yes, I loved-love-her,” he says impatiently, “But not the most.”
Silence stretches between the two of you. Watanuki swallows audibly and looks away.
“I made you…wait…a long time, so um,” he murmurs shyly and hesitantly and he looks so scared, “I mean, if you’ll still have me, I…”
“Yes,” you say, because if he’s offering himself, you’d take him up on that offer regardless of other factors and you reach to brush down flyaway locks of his hair with your palm. He leans into the touch for a moment then brings his fingers up to caress your arm, looking so relieved you’re surprised he hasn’t sunk down to the pavement. You move your arm and take his hand tentatively. He tightens his grip on your hand and the two of you walk down the street hand in hand, dressed in the finest suits either of you own.
“Oi,” you say, “I want oden.”
“What the hell do you think I am, a waiter?!” he retorts irritably, but a smile breaks past his self-imposed exasperation.
It’s something you never want to think about losing.
Title: a pirate’s map of buried treasure
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Wordcount: 1016
Summary: "Maybe I should fight harder for you but I said I'd let you go when you wanted me to"
A/N: Written for iambickilometer in exchange for his BODY (because sillyangelfaery already has claim on his SOUL, but that's a whole different ship to sail). She requested future!fic written to his angst mix. Voila. (He also wanted a happy ending. I'll let you discover for yourselves whether or not I followed up on that prompt). Also, second person FTW!
Warnings?: UNBETAED as are all my fics. EDITS ARE LOVE PLZTHNX. :D
You stand in the back and stare up the aisle at Watanuki, who is nervously shifting in place, hands reaching to straighten his immaculate tuxedo jacket. You stare and stare and had never expected this to be the ending. You stare past the rows and rows of people (who the hell are these people anyway? Watanuki couldn’t possibly know all of them). Then loud music blasts seemingly right into your eardrums and you resist the urge to plug your ears like old times. The Girl enters, in customary white, looking as beautiful as always. She comes up to the front and smiles at Watanuki, who smiles back. Your hands curl into helpless fists.
Kunogi makes her way over to you, being as quiet as possible so as to not interrupt the ceremony. An old man drones in the background and Kunogi touches your arm gently, looking up at you with worried eyes. She can touch you, just for today, without any risks. (It was her wish to Yuuko, to not miss one of the most important days of Watanuki’s life. You don’t want to know the price).
“What are you going to do?” she asks you softly.
“Let him go,” you murmur roughly in return, and can’t stop the vague hitch of your breath. The concern in her eyes darkens.
“Doumeki-kun,” she whispers urgently, but never gets to finish as a woman turns in her seat and glares. You brush Kunogi's hand off and move away, ever so slightly.
Despite her meddling (meddling is too negative; you know she really does want you to be happy, but you can’t help feeling slightly bitter at her interference) you won’t change your mind. As long as he is safe and happy, well, that’s all that really matters. You won’t begrudge him this, a normal, healthy romance. He courted her in the traditional manner, with open affection, instead of heavy denial, and flailing, and hidden meanings and something stifling that never felt like a romance
The droning in the distance cuts off and you realize that the whole room (except for you, of course) is hanging on the edge of their seats waiting for Watanuki’s answer. His eyes look down at her, and he looks so certain, but he brings his gaze back up and it glances hesitantly in your direction for an odd breathless moment.
You have to get out.
::1.0.4::
This should be one of the happiest days off his life, but something feels off from the moment he wakes up. He attributes this to nervousness and moves on with preparations. The feeling is still there in his gut when he waits for her before the ceremony. He has to keep reminding himself not to look in Doumeki’s direction. When she finally does sweep towards him, he feels a flush sweep through him. She really is beautiful. Watanuki waits through the long-winded speech of ceremony trying to look like he’s paying absolute attention while killing time until it was his turn. For a moment he doesn’t realize that the old man has stopped pattering on and it is his turn. He glances down at her again and yes, he does love her. Unfortunately, his gaze flickers over to focus on Doumeki as he opens his mouth. His breath catches and his heart simultaneously leaps into his throat and aches at the look on Doumeki’s face. Like his heart is breaking but he’s absolutely too ridiculously stubborn to show it. Their eyes lock for a second and Doumeki’s eyes have a strange panicked look about them (when has he gotten this good at reading Doumeki?). His former archer turns tail and leaves, slipping unobtrusively out the door. Watanuki can’t breathe, can’t think and he’s stricken with the sudden urge to follow Doumeki. He regards his bride-to-be again to reassure himself and realizes that while he does love her, he doesn’t love her enough, or the most.
“Sorry,” he chokes out, “I can’t. I just…can’t. Sorry.”
And he turns and runs out as well, praying Shizuka hasn’t gone far, because the moments between when the archer had left and he’d given his answer had felt like an eternity and half a breath at the same time. Not far down the street he can see the familiar solitary figure, faintly hunched shoulders and slightly lowered head giving Doumeki a miserable impression.
“Doumeki!” he calls, “Wait!”
But his cry is drowned in the sounds of traffic and a sudden prolific stream of profanities from an infuriated driver.
“Shizuka!” he tries this time, and Doumeki’s given name rings out in the sudden calm. Doumeki pivots slowly and looks genuinely shocked that Watanuki is coming towards him.
::1.0.4::
“Aren’t you supposed to be getting married?” you demand bitterly.
“I…no, I’m not…I mean,” Watanuki tries to get out. “I couldn’t…”
“I thought you loved her.”
“I did, I mean, I do, but-”
“What are you waiting for, then?”
“WOULD YOU LET ME FINISH?!” Watanuki snaps, sounding more like himself.
“…”
“Yes, I loved-love-her,” he says impatiently, “But not the most.”
Silence stretches between the two of you. Watanuki swallows audibly and looks away.
“I made you…wait…a long time, so um,” he murmurs shyly and hesitantly and he looks so scared, “I mean, if you’ll still have me, I…”
“Yes,” you say, because if he’s offering himself, you’d take him up on that offer regardless of other factors and you reach to brush down flyaway locks of his hair with your palm. He leans into the touch for a moment then brings his fingers up to caress your arm, looking so relieved you’re surprised he hasn’t sunk down to the pavement. You move your arm and take his hand tentatively. He tightens his grip on your hand and the two of you walk down the street hand in hand, dressed in the finest suits either of you own.
“Oi,” you say, “I want oden.”
“What the hell do you think I am, a waiter?!” he retorts irritably, but a smile breaks past his self-imposed exasperation.
It’s something you never want to think about losing.