OC: Window
Title: Window
Word Count: 1,166
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (for language only)
Summary: When you lose something perfect, it's hard to go on.
Notes: Written for allfireburns, on her 18th birthday (I love you bao bei!) and inspired by a drawing by harbek (included at the end of the story), with one line stolen from Nat (whose LJ I don't know). I honestly don't know if this is some sort of fanfic or if it's an original story. If I ever get the MC to talk to me again… I'll let y'all know.
You have to let me at least take a picture of your face if you're going to model for me.
No. I… I can't. Just… can't you take artsy pictures or something?
If it's about the glasses, they'll turn out fine.
No, it's not that. I just…
You don't do eye contact?
Yeah… how'd you know?
I don't know what color your eyes are. I notice those things about people, but I still don't know what color your eyes are.
Oh. That's… pretty observant of you.
I'm a photographer.
Right.
…You wanna talk about it?
I… not really.
Okay.
…So you're just gonna take pictures of my back and shit?
Pretty much.
… He said he loved my eyes. That's why I don't… do eye contact. I don't want to hear how nice my eyes are. It's not him saying it, and I don't want to be reminded.
Okay. Who is he?
My soulmate.
Pretty dramatic, don't you think?
Not really. He was. He was… everything to me. He was… he was city and poetry and light and dark and imperfectly perfect. One of those people who embodied the city, you know? Wild and… and rough and painful… but there was still love there. And you couldn't help but love him.
Huh. Sounds like an amazing guy. Where'd you meet him?
Club. A show. He was a musician.
What club?
I… I've forgotten.
Liar.
Yeah, well. Anyway, he was up on stage and his voice was… amazing. Imperfectly perfect, that's really the only way I can describe it. Do you understand?
I think so.
He was unearthly when he was on stage. Then you get him off stage and he was goofy and silly and caring and stupid and just as human as the rest of us. But on stage… on stage he was a god.
Did you ever tell him that?
What, and feed his ego?
Hey, a smile! I'm making progress. Continue.
Continue what?
The story. How you and he ended up meeting. How the hell you got to my studio. And, of course, the shit in between.
Oh… right. Um, well, he was watching me, for most of the show. I thought it was my imagination, but then he said he'd been watching me and… well I never asked him if that was just a line or not.
A line?
To get me in bed.
Did it work?
No. But I went anyway.
What happened?
We had sex… god, it was amazing. It was… he knew everywhere to touch. Knew every way to make me moan and shudder and-
Yeah, okay, I get the picture.
Don't laugh. It's true, he was… it was like he knew my body better than I did. And I didn't have anywhere to go, and… well, afterwards I stayed until the next morning. And next morning rolled around and he didn't kick me out, he just… smiled and said it was nice having a pet in a no-animals building.
So what, you were like… a sex object?
No! No, nothing like that… it was our joke, you see? I was the puppy he couldn't actually get. I… he loved me. He really did. More than almost anything, that's what he told me.
He told you he loved you more than almost anything? Jackass.
No, he… he said more than everything else. But his music was more important. It was always the most important. And there were… other things.
Drugs?
Maybe. I don't know. He could've been fucking someone else on the side for all I know. But it didn't matter, because he came home to me every night. He curled up in bed with me every night. He fucked me hard enough to make me cry, sometimes, but it was wonderful because it was him and I was his and that's all I ever wanted to be.
Sounds like you two were pretty happy. Why the hell is this all in past tense?
We're not together anymore.
No, really?
You don't have to be sarcastic.
But it's so fun! Anyway, you know what I meant. Why did you split up?
… I don't really… god, I can't believe I'm… He got into some shit. Did some stupid things.
So you left?
No! Never. I couldn't have.
He left you, then.
In… in a way, yes.
In a way?
Yes. ... He… he loved my eyes. He said he could drown in them. They were deep pools of emotion, no matter what it seemed like I was feeling, you could always tell what I actually felt if you looked in my eyes and knew how to read what was there. And he did. He always did. And sometimes I hated him for it, because why shouldn't I have private emotions, you know? But… really, I was glad. Because it felt so damn good to have someone care enough to learn how to read my eyes.
He could read them past the glasses and the hair?
Yeah. Well, the glasses. Growing my hair out was his idea. He said it'd look cooler, and that I could hide my eyes behind it, so no one else would be able to learn my eyes like he had. As if anyone but him could read my eyes like that.
So. Sounds like a great guy, really in love with you… what the hell happened?
He… died.
Oh… I'm so… god, I didn't mean to bring that up, I'm sorry.
It's okay. I just… miss him.
How did he… I mean, if you don't mind my asking.
Got mugged. They didn't take anything, not his wallet, nothing, so… so the police figure it was probably a hate crime. Against us, you know?
Fuck. They ever catch the guys?
No. Coulda been anyone, really. Lot of people didn't like us. Didn't like what we stood for.
So where are you living now?
Same place. I didn't want to move - that's the only place I have that… that he's still there. There's memories of him there, like there aren't anywhere else. It… hurts, but it's better to feel and remember than go numb and forget. Feeling might hurt more but I'll take it any day. It helps you feel alive.
You're a brave kid. I'm honored to be taking your picture.
You still don't have a picture of my face.
True. I'll live.
Maybe… I'm not going to… do you understand why I…
…That'll be a nice picture.
I didn't know you were going to snap one just then.
Yes, well, it is a photo shoot.
Yeah. Right. I forgot, sorry.
No prob. …They're blue.
What?
Your eyes. They're blue. They remind me of windows.
Windows into a house? That's kind of an old cliché.
No, not in. Windows out. Windows into the rest of the universe. Fuck, I'm not making much sense.
No, you're not. But I think I get it anyway.
You want a Kleenex?
No, just keep shooting.
I never stop, kid.
Good.
Word Count: 1,166
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 (for language only)
Summary: When you lose something perfect, it's hard to go on.
Notes: Written for allfireburns, on her 18th birthday (I love you bao bei!) and inspired by a drawing by harbek (included at the end of the story), with one line stolen from Nat (whose LJ I don't know). I honestly don't know if this is some sort of fanfic or if it's an original story. If I ever get the MC to talk to me again… I'll let y'all know.
You have to let me at least take a picture of your face if you're going to model for me.
No. I… I can't. Just… can't you take artsy pictures or something?
If it's about the glasses, they'll turn out fine.
No, it's not that. I just…
You don't do eye contact?
Yeah… how'd you know?
I don't know what color your eyes are. I notice those things about people, but I still don't know what color your eyes are.
Oh. That's… pretty observant of you.
I'm a photographer.
Right.
…You wanna talk about it?
I… not really.
Okay.
…So you're just gonna take pictures of my back and shit?
Pretty much.
… He said he loved my eyes. That's why I don't… do eye contact. I don't want to hear how nice my eyes are. It's not him saying it, and I don't want to be reminded.
Okay. Who is he?
My soulmate.
Pretty dramatic, don't you think?
Not really. He was. He was… everything to me. He was… he was city and poetry and light and dark and imperfectly perfect. One of those people who embodied the city, you know? Wild and… and rough and painful… but there was still love there. And you couldn't help but love him.
Huh. Sounds like an amazing guy. Where'd you meet him?
Club. A show. He was a musician.
What club?
I… I've forgotten.
Liar.
Yeah, well. Anyway, he was up on stage and his voice was… amazing. Imperfectly perfect, that's really the only way I can describe it. Do you understand?
I think so.
He was unearthly when he was on stage. Then you get him off stage and he was goofy and silly and caring and stupid and just as human as the rest of us. But on stage… on stage he was a god.
Did you ever tell him that?
What, and feed his ego?
Hey, a smile! I'm making progress. Continue.
Continue what?
The story. How you and he ended up meeting. How the hell you got to my studio. And, of course, the shit in between.
Oh… right. Um, well, he was watching me, for most of the show. I thought it was my imagination, but then he said he'd been watching me and… well I never asked him if that was just a line or not.
A line?
To get me in bed.
Did it work?
No. But I went anyway.
What happened?
We had sex… god, it was amazing. It was… he knew everywhere to touch. Knew every way to make me moan and shudder and-
Yeah, okay, I get the picture.
Don't laugh. It's true, he was… it was like he knew my body better than I did. And I didn't have anywhere to go, and… well, afterwards I stayed until the next morning. And next morning rolled around and he didn't kick me out, he just… smiled and said it was nice having a pet in a no-animals building.
So what, you were like… a sex object?
No! No, nothing like that… it was our joke, you see? I was the puppy he couldn't actually get. I… he loved me. He really did. More than almost anything, that's what he told me.
He told you he loved you more than almost anything? Jackass.
No, he… he said more than everything else. But his music was more important. It was always the most important. And there were… other things.
Drugs?
Maybe. I don't know. He could've been fucking someone else on the side for all I know. But it didn't matter, because he came home to me every night. He curled up in bed with me every night. He fucked me hard enough to make me cry, sometimes, but it was wonderful because it was him and I was his and that's all I ever wanted to be.
Sounds like you two were pretty happy. Why the hell is this all in past tense?
We're not together anymore.
No, really?
You don't have to be sarcastic.
But it's so fun! Anyway, you know what I meant. Why did you split up?
… I don't really… god, I can't believe I'm… He got into some shit. Did some stupid things.
So you left?
No! Never. I couldn't have.
He left you, then.
In… in a way, yes.
In a way?
Yes. ... He… he loved my eyes. He said he could drown in them. They were deep pools of emotion, no matter what it seemed like I was feeling, you could always tell what I actually felt if you looked in my eyes and knew how to read what was there. And he did. He always did. And sometimes I hated him for it, because why shouldn't I have private emotions, you know? But… really, I was glad. Because it felt so damn good to have someone care enough to learn how to read my eyes.
He could read them past the glasses and the hair?
Yeah. Well, the glasses. Growing my hair out was his idea. He said it'd look cooler, and that I could hide my eyes behind it, so no one else would be able to learn my eyes like he had. As if anyone but him could read my eyes like that.
So. Sounds like a great guy, really in love with you… what the hell happened?
He… died.
Oh… I'm so… god, I didn't mean to bring that up, I'm sorry.
It's okay. I just… miss him.
How did he… I mean, if you don't mind my asking.
Got mugged. They didn't take anything, not his wallet, nothing, so… so the police figure it was probably a hate crime. Against us, you know?
Fuck. They ever catch the guys?
No. Coulda been anyone, really. Lot of people didn't like us. Didn't like what we stood for.
So where are you living now?
Same place. I didn't want to move - that's the only place I have that… that he's still there. There's memories of him there, like there aren't anywhere else. It… hurts, but it's better to feel and remember than go numb and forget. Feeling might hurt more but I'll take it any day. It helps you feel alive.
You're a brave kid. I'm honored to be taking your picture.
You still don't have a picture of my face.
True. I'll live.
Maybe… I'm not going to… do you understand why I…
…That'll be a nice picture.
I didn't know you were going to snap one just then.
Yes, well, it is a photo shoot.
Yeah. Right. I forgot, sorry.
No prob. …They're blue.
What?
Your eyes. They're blue. They remind me of windows.
Windows into a house? That's kind of an old cliché.
No, not in. Windows out. Windows into the rest of the universe. Fuck, I'm not making much sense.
No, you're not. But I think I get it anyway.
You want a Kleenex?
No, just keep shooting.
I never stop, kid.
Good.