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klenaSo, I have this BEAUTIFUL GORGEOUS CANADIAN BEAUTY that calls me her wife and she beta'd for me and I love her!
The City Lights, They Shine But Not Half As Brightly As You
Arashi, Ohmiya
951 words
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
crazychickencow, who flailed at me one night AGES AGO and told - ORDERED me to write her fic and I said 'ok' and only got around to it late on Saturday night after work and hours in the dark reading bandom fic. So slightly unusual piece! But written with ALL THE LOVE EVER! Much, much love to the fabulous waxrose for the speedy beta and awesome comments. Love you wifey! ♥
“Would you love me just the same?” He asks and it’s not even a question, not really because of course he would – you’d rearrange every single burning light in Tokyo to spell out their names - you’d sing every single love song in the world to him even though none of them get it right, none of them are what you feel for him but that doesn’t stop you feeling the heart beating in-between every word and you’d sing every second of every day in every language ever spoken if you could drag those other lover's hearts out from between the lines and wind them into a love song that would be your heart beating so loud, beating the rhythm of his breaths and blinks and smiles for everyone to hear and learn and remember - you’d go to the mountains and learn to make soba because it's his favourite and every time he eats it, his face lights up from the inside like the noodles are concepts made real and sunlight and rewarmed childhood memories and you’d do anything to keep that look on his face forever.
His brows quirk slightly and the lights of the city are on his skin in a way you feel jealous of and the smell of the coffee winds around you like a spell, like a curse because you find yourself half-believing you could trace your feelings into his skin and leave them there through your fingertips – little swirls and whorls and patterns that would show you were there, you love him and you are as much as part of him as the lights and the flashes and the glamour are.
He makes a noise in the back of his throat that you know is as much concern as it is irritation and you want to kiss him so badly your skin aches with it, want to chase away the worry with your tongue and lick into his mouth, carving a smile into his lips that will never fade because there isn’t any sight like his smile, not daybreak, not the first cherry blossoms of the year, not the heat of the summer nor the first snow nor the frantic buzz of the city at rush hour or the peace of the shrines.
Instead you duck your head, take a sip of your coffee which you will now taste as him in your head and smile as you think that only you will hold this idea, this knowledge that every time you drink your coffee you’re thinking of him and telling the entire world how much you love him in disguise, in a code only you have the key for.
“How could you even doubt that?” You question, softening your voice with the low rumble of wounded disbelief and flick your eyes over the ink on the page and the words that are printed there, the words that aren’t-quite-yours but fit in your mouth almost easily because they’re close enough to what you think that the blur between her heart and yours is nothing more than a rough smear.
“I told you I will always love you, I meant those words then and I still do now except now that I know you, I love you even more.” Your voice cracks then because it’s true, ten years can’t be faked and you can’t even begin to list all the things that ten years has told you about him. He raises his eyebrow at you but you smile and turn the script page,
“…but I can’t stand here and watch you destroy yourself – destroy families like this. Please leave all this – we’ll leave and live somewhere no one knows our names and you’ll never have to kill again. We could be happy. I’ll never be unhappy if you’re with me.”
His hand is a work of elegance and blurring movement as he lights a cigarette and breathes out shakily on the exhale. “…That last line wasn’t in the script.” He accuses and you tug your smile wider.
“No, it wasn’t.” You lean over and steal the cigarette from his fingers for a quick draw and let the smoke sting your eyes like revelation and the chemicals flood your brain like relief and letting go and breathe out as easy as relapsing and hand it back. “I’m sorry, Nino." You apologise softly and sneak a glance at him. He’s watching you as thought you’ve fractured suddenly into a thousand facets of yourself and he’s trying to piece you back together with his eyes. You run your fingers over your wrist as if to ground yourself and slide them onto the page, savouring the texture of the paper and the solidity of it all.
“I thought she should say that – it feels better that way, don’t you think? It’s more real. Sounds like something someone in love would say.”
“I’m playing a character who is a samurai assassin in a drama. Realism is not exactly on the top of their list.” He snorts, raising his eyebrow. You make a little agreeing noise in your mouth that tastes like disappointment and look into the blinding lights of the city.
“She should realise how much he also loves her. Even if he makes her unhappy by not realising how his choices upset her – that has nothing to do with the fact he loves her.” He grumbles, not looking at you when you look back as he continues to smoke, breathing out frustration that curls in the air. It disperses and his unhappiness leaves his face turning his face into something so blinding and beautiful that you can’t look away until he looks at you and breathes,
“It does sound better that way.”
- - - - - - - - -
IN OTHER NEWS!
1.mcee I am blaming you (and stereomer) for the fact that after you and stereomer talking about Asshole!Frank because I started daydreaming in work about it, y'know in an attempt to stop me GOING POSTAL AND KILLING CUSTOMERS last night because they WOULD NOT STOP COMING - GO EAT A SALAD, YOU BASTARDS, which progressed from asshole!frank musing in my head into plotting a McDonalds/Fast Food Restaurant AU with bandom. I BLAME YOU. BECAUSE IT WON'T LEAVE MY HEAD /o\
2. The clothes started arriving! \o/ Expect ryro-styled camwhoring once I return from work of my new FUCKING AWESOME t-shirt and Panic!Hoodie
3. I have been in work since Friday. Friday and Saturday I had different shifts. From Sunday until tomorrow night I have been on closes. ARGH. 4 closes in a row is NOT GOOD TIMES D:
4. Once I get out of my close tomorrow night I am crawling into bed with my sketchbook, my laptop and I am going to sit and draw and read Big Bang fic and drink tea and it is going to be FUCKING AWESOME.
[edit] 5. TELL ME TO GET OFF THE INTERNET - I DO NOT HAVE TIME TO READ AND COMMENT ON EVERYONE'S JOURNALS BECAUSE I HAVE LESS THAN 30 MINUTES UNTIL I HAVE TO GO TO WORK AND AM NOT DRESSED YET. ...I am so fail worthy sometimes.
The City Lights, They Shine But Not Half As Brightly As You
Arashi, Ohmiya
951 words
For
crazychickencow, who flailed at me one night AGES AGO and told - ORDERED me to write her fic and I said 'ok' and only got around to it late on Saturday night after work and hours in the dark reading bandom fic. So slightly unusual piece! But written with ALL THE LOVE EVER! Much, much love to the fabulous waxrose for the speedy beta and awesome comments. Love you wifey! ♥ “Would you love me just the same?” He asks and it’s not even a question, not really because of course he would – you’d rearrange every single burning light in Tokyo to spell out their names - you’d sing every single love song in the world to him even though none of them get it right, none of them are what you feel for him but that doesn’t stop you feeling the heart beating in-between every word and you’d sing every second of every day in every language ever spoken if you could drag those other lover's hearts out from between the lines and wind them into a love song that would be your heart beating so loud, beating the rhythm of his breaths and blinks and smiles for everyone to hear and learn and remember - you’d go to the mountains and learn to make soba because it's his favourite and every time he eats it, his face lights up from the inside like the noodles are concepts made real and sunlight and rewarmed childhood memories and you’d do anything to keep that look on his face forever.
His brows quirk slightly and the lights of the city are on his skin in a way you feel jealous of and the smell of the coffee winds around you like a spell, like a curse because you find yourself half-believing you could trace your feelings into his skin and leave them there through your fingertips – little swirls and whorls and patterns that would show you were there, you love him and you are as much as part of him as the lights and the flashes and the glamour are.
He makes a noise in the back of his throat that you know is as much concern as it is irritation and you want to kiss him so badly your skin aches with it, want to chase away the worry with your tongue and lick into his mouth, carving a smile into his lips that will never fade because there isn’t any sight like his smile, not daybreak, not the first cherry blossoms of the year, not the heat of the summer nor the first snow nor the frantic buzz of the city at rush hour or the peace of the shrines.
Instead you duck your head, take a sip of your coffee which you will now taste as him in your head and smile as you think that only you will hold this idea, this knowledge that every time you drink your coffee you’re thinking of him and telling the entire world how much you love him in disguise, in a code only you have the key for.
“How could you even doubt that?” You question, softening your voice with the low rumble of wounded disbelief and flick your eyes over the ink on the page and the words that are printed there, the words that aren’t-quite-yours but fit in your mouth almost easily because they’re close enough to what you think that the blur between her heart and yours is nothing more than a rough smear.
“I told you I will always love you, I meant those words then and I still do now except now that I know you, I love you even more.” Your voice cracks then because it’s true, ten years can’t be faked and you can’t even begin to list all the things that ten years has told you about him. He raises his eyebrow at you but you smile and turn the script page,
“…but I can’t stand here and watch you destroy yourself – destroy families like this. Please leave all this – we’ll leave and live somewhere no one knows our names and you’ll never have to kill again. We could be happy. I’ll never be unhappy if you’re with me.”
His hand is a work of elegance and blurring movement as he lights a cigarette and breathes out shakily on the exhale. “…That last line wasn’t in the script.” He accuses and you tug your smile wider.
“No, it wasn’t.” You lean over and steal the cigarette from his fingers for a quick draw and let the smoke sting your eyes like revelation and the chemicals flood your brain like relief and letting go and breathe out as easy as relapsing and hand it back. “I’m sorry, Nino." You apologise softly and sneak a glance at him. He’s watching you as thought you’ve fractured suddenly into a thousand facets of yourself and he’s trying to piece you back together with his eyes. You run your fingers over your wrist as if to ground yourself and slide them onto the page, savouring the texture of the paper and the solidity of it all.
“I thought she should say that – it feels better that way, don’t you think? It’s more real. Sounds like something someone in love would say.”
“I’m playing a character who is a samurai assassin in a drama. Realism is not exactly on the top of their list.” He snorts, raising his eyebrow. You make a little agreeing noise in your mouth that tastes like disappointment and look into the blinding lights of the city.
“She should realise how much he also loves her. Even if he makes her unhappy by not realising how his choices upset her – that has nothing to do with the fact he loves her.” He grumbles, not looking at you when you look back as he continues to smoke, breathing out frustration that curls in the air. It disperses and his unhappiness leaves his face turning his face into something so blinding and beautiful that you can’t look away until he looks at you and breathes,
“It does sound better that way.”
- - - - - - - - -
IN OTHER NEWS!
1.
mcee I am blaming you (and stereomer) for the fact that after you and stereomer talking about Asshole!Frank because I started daydreaming in work about it, y'know in an attempt to stop me GOING POSTAL AND KILLING CUSTOMERS last night because they WOULD NOT STOP COMING - GO EAT A SALAD, YOU BASTARDS, which progressed from asshole!frank musing in my head into plotting a McDonalds/Fast Food Restaurant AU with bandom. I BLAME YOU. BECAUSE IT WON'T LEAVE MY HEAD /o\2. The clothes started arriving! \o/ Expect ryro-styled camwhoring once I return from work of my new FUCKING AWESOME t-shirt and Panic!Hoodie
3. I have been in work since Friday. Friday and Saturday I had different shifts. From Sunday until tomorrow night I have been on closes. ARGH. 4 closes in a row is NOT GOOD TIMES D:
4. Once I get out of my close tomorrow night I am crawling into bed with my sketchbook, my laptop and I am going to sit and draw and read Big Bang fic and drink tea and it is going to be FUCKING AWESOME.
[edit] 5. TELL ME TO GET OFF THE INTERNET - I DO NOT HAVE TIME TO READ AND COMMENT ON EVERYONE'S JOURNALS BECAUSE I HAVE LESS THAN 30 MINUTES UNTIL I HAVE TO GO TO WORK AND AM NOT DRESSED YET. ...I am so fail worthy sometimes.
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Date: 2008-06-27 06:39 pm (UTC)