Meme drabble: Blind Boy meets Studly Protector
Kind of an odd one, for animeartistjo
As requested:
The voice was rich, deep, like warm chocolate with a hint of licorice. It was also the only sound the man made; Ishael couldn't even hear him breathing. Impressive.
"What's your name?" Ishael asked.
There was a vague rustle of clothing, sounded like denim and some sort of blend, and the faint creak of boot leather.
"Nigrae."
Ishael smiled. "So you're the one they got to be my bodyguard?"
More rustling, then soft - very soft - footsteps coming toward him. To anyone else, they'd probably be silent. The man was good.
"I requested the assignment, yes." Nigrae's voice was only an arm's reach away. Ishael rather fancied if he reached out for it he'd find chocolate wrapped in denim instead of a real man.
Then the man's words sunk in.
"Requested?"
He hadn't been expecting that. Not even close. Ishael was highly respected for what he could do, for the contributions he made, but no one liked to get too close to him. No one wanted to have their whole life laid bare. Everyone had their secrets.
So then, who was Nigre, to willingly offer to give up his privacy to play bodyguard to a blind man who saw too much?
Through the turmoil of his thoughts, Ishael realized that Nigrae hadn't given him an answer. "Nigrae?"
More soft rustlings, then the faint thud of flesh (a knee?) touching the ground. A stirring of the air, then a large, warm hand clasped itself around his. Ishael stifled a gasp.
The images came swiftly; they always did. Running backwards through time, he saw himself sitting on his chair, then views of moving around, driving, people. Many people. Days blurred together, people, faces... his face. In a crowd, in a corner, nearby, from a distance. Nigrae had been watching him.
Why?
Then the emotion hit, and this time Ishael did gasp.
Want. Desire. Need. A clear and painful longing that made his own chest ache.
"Y-you're an empath."
The quiet sound of assent, then the warm hand on his was gone and Ishael was once more in darkness.
But not alone.
"You've been watching me..."
Once more, Nigrae murmured his agreement, that voice still reminding Ishael of chocolate. He wondered if Nigrae tasted like chocolate too.
"Why me?" Ishael asked.
"Why not?" Nigrae answered.
Ishael would have mentioned privacy, the way a person's life was laid bare to him when he touched them, the way something so small as a ring could betray a man's deepest, darkest secrets, but the point was moot. Nigrae had already proven he didn't care. Nigrae was the first person to touch him willingly since his abilities had surfaced.
He didn't know Nigrae, not yet, but he wanted to. He wanted to keep the warm chocolate voice and the strong hands and the only man in the world willing to share his secrets for the chance of something more.
"I accept your offer to be my bodyguard," Ishael said.
Though he couldn't see it, he knew Nigrae smiled.
As requested:
The voice was rich, deep, like warm chocolate with a hint of licorice. It was also the only sound the man made; Ishael couldn't even hear him breathing. Impressive.
"What's your name?" Ishael asked.
There was a vague rustle of clothing, sounded like denim and some sort of blend, and the faint creak of boot leather.
"Nigrae."
Ishael smiled. "So you're the one they got to be my bodyguard?"
More rustling, then soft - very soft - footsteps coming toward him. To anyone else, they'd probably be silent. The man was good.
"I requested the assignment, yes." Nigrae's voice was only an arm's reach away. Ishael rather fancied if he reached out for it he'd find chocolate wrapped in denim instead of a real man.
Then the man's words sunk in.
"Requested?"
He hadn't been expecting that. Not even close. Ishael was highly respected for what he could do, for the contributions he made, but no one liked to get too close to him. No one wanted to have their whole life laid bare. Everyone had their secrets.
So then, who was Nigre, to willingly offer to give up his privacy to play bodyguard to a blind man who saw too much?
Through the turmoil of his thoughts, Ishael realized that Nigrae hadn't given him an answer. "Nigrae?"
More soft rustlings, then the faint thud of flesh (a knee?) touching the ground. A stirring of the air, then a large, warm hand clasped itself around his. Ishael stifled a gasp.
The images came swiftly; they always did. Running backwards through time, he saw himself sitting on his chair, then views of moving around, driving, people. Many people. Days blurred together, people, faces... his face. In a crowd, in a corner, nearby, from a distance. Nigrae had been watching him.
Why?
Then the emotion hit, and this time Ishael did gasp.
Want. Desire. Need. A clear and painful longing that made his own chest ache.
"Y-you're an empath."
The quiet sound of assent, then the warm hand on his was gone and Ishael was once more in darkness.
But not alone.
"You've been watching me..."
Once more, Nigrae murmured his agreement, that voice still reminding Ishael of chocolate. He wondered if Nigrae tasted like chocolate too.
"Why me?" Ishael asked.
"Why not?" Nigrae answered.
Ishael would have mentioned privacy, the way a person's life was laid bare to him when he touched them, the way something so small as a ring could betray a man's deepest, darkest secrets, but the point was moot. Nigrae had already proven he didn't care. Nigrae was the first person to touch him willingly since his abilities had surfaced.
He didn't know Nigrae, not yet, but he wanted to. He wanted to keep the warm chocolate voice and the strong hands and the only man in the world willing to share his secrets for the chance of something more.
"I accept your offer to be my bodyguard," Ishael said.
Though he couldn't see it, he knew Nigrae smiled.