Winter Twilight
Title: Winter Twilight (Seasons One)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened
Summary: They always went walking in the twilight.
We went walking in the twilight. His hand reached for mine, fingers lacing. I could not feel the warmth of him through our gloves. It nearly drove me mad.
The snow crunched beneath our boots, and our breath plumed out in front of us. Often, it was joined by the smoke from my cigarette. I loved to inhale deeply on those nights, smell the tobacco mixed with the painful cold of the snow.
The night swelled, silent and clear all around us. Sometimes it felt like we were the only ones who existed. I knew in those precious moments that I was quite fine with that. If I never had to share him again, it would be too soon.
The moon glowed, a silver orb, illuminating the faint shadows that dared to cast themselves upon the white canvas of the snow. Already the day light was a distant dream, a memory that you could almost capture in your fingers.
Stars, hardly daring to believe it was their turn to appear, began to dot the sky as he tilted his head back to look up. I was taken in by the column of his neck, the way his little goatee looked when he smiled, how it made him almost sinister if you didn’t know better.
I, of course knew better. I always knew better. I knew that at the heart of this wretched little skater boy, who pulled pranks and tortured his parents, there was a glowing ember of warmth and love. I knew that sometimes I alone was allowed to see it. But just as long as it existed, I think the world should have been happy.
Clouds had begun to roll in as my love stood there, in the middle of the street, staring up at the sky. Fat white flakes soon began to fall, powdering that goatee and clinging to his eyelashes.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” he breathed, looking at me.
And suddenly I was breathless. Not asthma attack breathless, but the sort of breathless you are when you’re in love. My heart squeezed in my chest and my lips parted as I tried to suck air back in.
He had that affect on me, always. The simplest things, coming from him, had the power to bring me to my knees. I reached out, pressing the tips of my gloved fingers to his cheek.
To his credit, he allowed the gesture. He always allowed me my little moments of strangeness, just as I allowed him his. He smiled, leaned into my caress. Sometimes I think he was starving for touch, the way he reached out for me.
Or maybe he was afraid if he wasn’t touching me, I’d float away. I knew the terrible feeling. Sometimes I woke in the middle of the night and reached for me, afraid he would be gone.
I looked at my love, the way he smiled at me.
“Yes, it is beautiful.” I murmured, before leaning in to kiss him. He kissed back.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't know, don't own, never happened
Summary: They always went walking in the twilight.
We went walking in the twilight. His hand reached for mine, fingers lacing. I could not feel the warmth of him through our gloves. It nearly drove me mad.
The snow crunched beneath our boots, and our breath plumed out in front of us. Often, it was joined by the smoke from my cigarette. I loved to inhale deeply on those nights, smell the tobacco mixed with the painful cold of the snow.
The night swelled, silent and clear all around us. Sometimes it felt like we were the only ones who existed. I knew in those precious moments that I was quite fine with that. If I never had to share him again, it would be too soon.
The moon glowed, a silver orb, illuminating the faint shadows that dared to cast themselves upon the white canvas of the snow. Already the day light was a distant dream, a memory that you could almost capture in your fingers.
Stars, hardly daring to believe it was their turn to appear, began to dot the sky as he tilted his head back to look up. I was taken in by the column of his neck, the way his little goatee looked when he smiled, how it made him almost sinister if you didn’t know better.
I, of course knew better. I always knew better. I knew that at the heart of this wretched little skater boy, who pulled pranks and tortured his parents, there was a glowing ember of warmth and love. I knew that sometimes I alone was allowed to see it. But just as long as it existed, I think the world should have been happy.
Clouds had begun to roll in as my love stood there, in the middle of the street, staring up at the sky. Fat white flakes soon began to fall, powdering that goatee and clinging to his eyelashes.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” he breathed, looking at me.
And suddenly I was breathless. Not asthma attack breathless, but the sort of breathless you are when you’re in love. My heart squeezed in my chest and my lips parted as I tried to suck air back in.
He had that affect on me, always. The simplest things, coming from him, had the power to bring me to my knees. I reached out, pressing the tips of my gloved fingers to his cheek.
To his credit, he allowed the gesture. He always allowed me my little moments of strangeness, just as I allowed him his. He smiled, leaned into my caress. Sometimes I think he was starving for touch, the way he reached out for me.
Or maybe he was afraid if he wasn’t touching me, I’d float away. I knew the terrible feeling. Sometimes I woke in the middle of the night and reached for me, afraid he would be gone.
I looked at my love, the way he smiled at me.
“Yes, it is beautiful.” I murmured, before leaning in to kiss him. He kissed back.