knightofmercury (
knightofmercury) wrote2011-01-28 04:48 pm
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Frederick and Tiwa (Outside a Bar-shaped place)
Frederick is out in the forest tonight, lying in a clearing by the lake, looking up at the stars. He traces patterns of constellations in the air with one hand, his other arm placed casually under his head and his legs crossed above him. He hums softly as he does so, a wayward tune that seems to vascillate between songs he's only vaguely familiar with, and nonsensical melodies he's made up on the spot.
The calm, dark water of the lake nearby reflects the glittering specks of light in the clear night sky, creating the illusion of space both above and below.
The calm, dark water of the lake nearby reflects the glittering specks of light in the clear night sky, creating the illusion of space both above and below.
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"Lower," he pleads, in a whisper-- one word is about all he can manage at this point. He tugs gently in her hair, guiding her kisses more towards his upper chest.
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Frederick has a noticeable reaction when she kisses his collarbone; he cries out, muscles tightening all at once, and grasps firmly onto her back, fingers digging into her skin.
He is strangely aware of everything, in this instant. He can feel her, every part of her, closed around his body and flowing through his veins. It's a high that's better than flying, and yet oddly similar-- her energy is lofty and fluttering and free, yet mixed with an unfamiliar, musical quality that almost seems to ring pleasantly in his ears.
He lets out another cry as he releases into her, not long after the first. He locks his hands tight around her waist, desperate to feel her as close to himself as he can in this moment.
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"More, please."
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"Thank you, my dove," he whispers, sighing again and stroking her. "You are truly wonderful, in this as you are in everything else."
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She says breathily and hugs him, he's quite real and useful since she feels as if she might just float off.
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"Is that what kind of bird you are? Very well, then, my little fantail," he corrects himself, with an air of delight and satisfaction.
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She moves just enough to shift off him and rest on the bed but still in his arms.
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He catches a glimpse of the window as he does so, with the stars and sky looking within reach just beyond. It feels perfect somehow, and he smiles, holding her closer.
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...
............
His eyes open suddenly in the darkness. It felt like it should have come with more of a jolt than that-- his breath starts to come more quickly, to match the way his heart is racing.
He lets go of Tiwa as gently as he can-- trying to be silent, trying not to notice the way his hands are shaking-- and sits up, fumbling to bring the pendant of his necklace back around to the front so he can grasp it in his hand. The purple jewel is glowing, ever so slightly, almost too softly for one to be able to know for certain that it is.
He runs his fingers through his hair, trying not to sigh.
He wishes this were unusual.
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That wakes her up and she watches him before reaching out to touch his back, "What's wrong?"
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"Just a nightmare, was all," he says, with a slight grimace-- is his voice shaking? He meant for it to sound casual. "It..."
He hesitates, as if the words won't come out for some reason, even though he wants them to.
"...It's nothing." His shoulders fall slightly, and he rubs the pendant at his throat.
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"Are you shivering? Frederick?"
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He brings one knee up to his chest, resting his forehead on the blanket that's now draped over it.
"This... happens, from time to time," he admits, sounding defeated somehow.
"I didn't mean to wake you, my dear."
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She hugs him tighter since he's worrying her.
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The same hesitance returns, and he reaches up to clasp his necklace rather tightly.
"...ghost, of something."
He sighs, resting his cheek against hers. "I'm no good at talking about this sort of thing," he tells her, honestly. "I really do apologize... It has nothing to do with you-- it's just that I've never told anyone."
Usually, of course, he avoids any questions simply by leaving. Even now, he has to fight the urge to pull away. It wouldn't be fair to her, he thinks, even if he's done it to people before.
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Her voice is quieter as she kisses him on the cheek and turns her arm so he can see the tattoo and the scar it covers.
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"They're difficult for me to talk about," he says slowly. "Perhaps because they don't honestly have all that much to do with me. Unlike yours, I'm sure."
He's quiet for a moment, until he thinks of something-- an acceptable compromise, with any luck.
He turns and pushes her back down onto the bed, cuddling against her cheek. "Let's talk about something else," he says, with a quick kiss. "For example, why is it that I always have this terrible urge to fly away, even when I have everything a man could possibly want right here beside me? Clearly, I can't be right in the head."
He gives her a rather apologetic smile, hoping this sort of honesty was what she was looking for.
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"Who does it have to do with if not you? Is the person who gave the pendant connected?"
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"Not directly, no," he replies, stroking her cheek. "It has more to do with someone I've never met. Well..." He pauses; that's not quite true. But doesn't elaborate. He seems to start, but then doesn't, for whatever reason.
His eyes are far away. "It only wakes me up at night. And I just feel so sorry for him..." He flinches, then swallows, feeling like he's said too much. "But there's nothing to be done about it, anymore. What bothers me is waking up feeling alone, and feeling guilty for it, because so often I'm not."
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