he walks alone in the days on fire (alex/boone, pg-13)
Title: he walks alone in the days on fire
Author: cloudytea
Characters/Parings: Alex/Boone
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They keep the past buried underneath the dirt and dust of time. For snowweisz. 395 words.
His thumbs dig into her hipbones and blood-stained lips taste of a warmth she is unused to -- He is everything that death shouldn't be, and she unsure if she could live (is that what she is doing now? -- living? No, she is dying. She is dead) without it, without him. Without this.
One day, Boone whispers his story (his life) into her hair and all she can hear are strings of nonsense about hatches and inhalers, and the name Theresa pops up every so often.
Sometimes, she’ll awake and he won’t be there. She’s used to it by now. The island takes almost as much as it gives, and she knows sacrifice’s the name of the game if she’s going to play along with it. She’ll wait days, maybe even weeks, and he’ll come wandering back, leaves in his hair and soaked in perspiration, taking the place of the blood painted to his skin as he muttered his last breaths.
(Tell Shannon, tell her…)
He doesn’t love her anymore, Shannon. Sometimes, he’ll tell Alex that he’s unsure if he even did in the first place, or that their one-time intimacy was just a product of their youth and the alcohol that stained her lips. Whatever it was, it doesn’t exist anymore, here -- in this place -- and they keep the past buried underneath the dirt and dust of time.
This will never last, she says to him one day, back digging into a tree as his teeth gnaw at her collarbone. Boone's just returned from wherever the hell he goes whenever he isn’t with her. She doesn’t ask him questions. She just knows that his absences grow longer and longer with every venture and there are moments when she closes her eyes and wonders if he’ll ever even come back this time.
She’s afraid he’s found peace without her.
His eyes are sad when they meet her own and he presses against her, breath hot on Alex’s lips.
I know it won’t. The kiss is long and deep, filled with all the grief they’ve experienced in their old lives, as well as this one. But why not make the best of the time we’ve got left?
His kisses will always taste like blood, even if her veins are dry and cold. Through him, she lives, and through her, he’ll finally find peace.
Author: cloudytea
Characters/Parings: Alex/Boone
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They keep the past buried underneath the dirt and dust of time. For snowweisz. 395 words.
His thumbs dig into her hipbones and blood-stained lips taste of a warmth she is unused to -- He is everything that death shouldn't be, and she unsure if she could live (is that what she is doing now? -- living? No, she is dying. She is dead) without it, without him. Without this.
One day, Boone whispers his story (his life) into her hair and all she can hear are strings of nonsense about hatches and inhalers, and the name Theresa pops up every so often.
Sometimes, she’ll awake and he won’t be there. She’s used to it by now. The island takes almost as much as it gives, and she knows sacrifice’s the name of the game if she’s going to play along with it. She’ll wait days, maybe even weeks, and he’ll come wandering back, leaves in his hair and soaked in perspiration, taking the place of the blood painted to his skin as he muttered his last breaths.
(Tell Shannon, tell her…)
He doesn’t love her anymore, Shannon. Sometimes, he’ll tell Alex that he’s unsure if he even did in the first place, or that their one-time intimacy was just a product of their youth and the alcohol that stained her lips. Whatever it was, it doesn’t exist anymore, here -- in this place -- and they keep the past buried underneath the dirt and dust of time.
This will never last, she says to him one day, back digging into a tree as his teeth gnaw at her collarbone. Boone's just returned from wherever the hell he goes whenever he isn’t with her. She doesn’t ask him questions. She just knows that his absences grow longer and longer with every venture and there are moments when she closes her eyes and wonders if he’ll ever even come back this time.
She’s afraid he’s found peace without her.
His eyes are sad when they meet her own and he presses against her, breath hot on Alex’s lips.
I know it won’t. The kiss is long and deep, filled with all the grief they’ve experienced in their old lives, as well as this one. But why not make the best of the time we’ve got left?
His kisses will always taste like blood, even if her veins are dry and cold. Through him, she lives, and through her, he’ll finally find peace.