Decadent comfort abounds in the third floor apartments, from the sumptuous tapestries, to the marbled bath and the gilded curtains. The night, long and deep, has dropped into its quietest, darkest point, staving off the tumultuous dawn. She?ll arrive and crash her rays into the depths of dark morning, shattering black and indigo into a million pink-orange streams. The massive bed sits on a central wall, against stone and velvet. In it, a man rests, covered scarcely by linens and thick blankets. Despite the luxury of such bedding, he?s only partially covered at his waist, and his ankles and a knee are visible, as well as his upper body. Golden hair?s tousled upon the pillows, and he seems to rest soundly.

Also in the room, another man walks silently. Stone floor is covered with rugs, leaving little of the smooth rock exposed. He walks towards the bed, near the sleeping man, and crouches beside him quietly, staring as he sleeps. Edward?s hand reaches out and curves softly at Valan?s aquiline features, but only hovers above a touch. His head tilts to the side as he balances himself on the balls of his feet, and each arm comes to rest on either knee. The tension of his precarious position causes his muscles to stand out in definition, but agility wins, and Edward holds still, pads of feet perched perfectly.

There's an army on the dance floor
It's a fashion with a gun my love
In a room without a door
A kiss is not enough

In
Love my way
It's a new road
I follow where my mind goes?

There are few things that have happened to me that mean anything. Not my birth, nor my rape and embrace. Not my southern education, nor the wars I willingly enjoyed. Not even those I have killed.

There are but three events that have meaning, and when I think of them, I am moved. All three of them are in this house.

One lies here, in a bed we share.

He found me somehow, and made me wake up when I didn?t know I was sleeping. Drifting through my own life, with nothing to show for it. And now? There?s something else. I don?t know what it is, but shouldn?t I be more than this?

But at the same time, this is what I am. And there?s nothing wrong with it. I Am. That is enough. It is enough for him, and it?s been enough for me. But there?s this?thing.

I wish it would go away. It?s a thing, but it tells me nothing. Shows me nothing. Explains nothing. It?s just there, but now, it?s useless.

When I am with him, I feel filled with something. Energy? Desire? I feel myself more than just what I Am. I can do anything, when we are, well. It?s weird though. No words describe it. But whatever it is, it lives inside me, kindled occasionally and staring at me, like out of a mirror. But I don?t see anything yet. It sees me, but I cannot see it.

?they'd dearly make us pay
for laughing in their faces and making it our way
There's emptiness behind their eyes, there's dust in all their hearts
They just want to steal us all and take us all apart.

But not in
Love my way it's a new road
I follow where my mind goes...

Here, if I touch his cheek, will he wake? Maybe that?s just me wishing. I?d love to have him wake, but not if I do it. I shouldn?t disturb him.

Christ. I can?t believe I?m thinking like this. It?s only started since he came. He looked at me, and something happened.

He looked at me as if I was someone.

So swallow all your tears my love, and put on your new face
You can never win or lose if you don't run the race?

We are going to France, he and I, together. Away from this island. Away from what?s happened. He?s taking me home, and I think I want to go.

Posted by Criseyde at May 28, 2004 07:38 PM