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31_days2011-08-03 07:52 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2011-08-03 07:52 pm
[August 3] [Baccano!] The Sleep of the Trust-less
Title: The Sleep of the Trust-less
Day/Theme: Aug. 3, 2011 "I hope for a passion that could shatter illusions"
Series: Baccano!
Character/Pairing: Maiza/Czeslaw
Rating: PG-13 (here- rating will rise in later parts)
Author's comment: To be continued on the 4th.
There came a tapping at the door, some gentle type of knock meant to awaken Maiza but not to disturb anyone else. If it were Firo, he wouldn't have hesitated. After knocking, he would come right in. It was someone less familiar with the rowdy, awkwardly mannered way things went around there. Maiza sat up and reached onto the side table for his glasses. He had a feeling he knew who he would find, but he wasn't the type to make assumptions. "Come in," he invited.
He didn't have to raise his gaze. It was already poised at the perfect level to take in the wide-eyed face peeking in. Czeslaw, as expected. " Should I turn on the light?" his hand wavered over the switch.
"If you would like. But if there's no need for it, leave it off." Maiza adjusted the collar of his nightshirt, but didn't rise from his place in bed. It wasn't exactly his ordinary sort of manners, but this wasn't exactly an ordinary situation. Immortal business and Martillo family business, although they now overlapped, were two different things. In any case, Czeslaw probably wasn't here in the middle of the night about anything "official" at all. He was a deeply troubled man, and while Maiza might not be able to make everything right (there wasn't, for instance, any way for him to change the past), he would do everything in his power to bring positive change to Czes' life.
Czeslaw declined to flip the switch. There was moonlight enough for his purposes. "I keep waking up. I have nightmares." Indeed, he was pale and unable to completely still his trembling. "I was wondering, if it's not too much of an imposition, could I sleep in your bed?"
"Of course not," Maiza smiled. If that small action would be enough to soothe Czeslaw's woes, wouldn't it be a miraculous thing? Maiza knew that such an outcome was well beyond the bounds of reasonable thinking.
"Thank you." The inner brightness generated by the tiny smile arising in his eyes brought the welling of withheld tears to Maiza's attention. If Czeslaw didn't comment on them though, he wouldn't either. Not all problems need to be discussed head on.
Czeslaw's pale nightshirt slid up over his knees as he climbed into bed on Maiza's left. His skin was pale. No scars endured, despite the innumerable tortures he had been through. In a tiny boyish voice, but with the words and weight of a man, Czeslaw whispered hints of things too terrible to name. "I could show you," he made that fearful offer, "Though it's all things that no one should have to see. All I can bear to say I've already said." He held up his small, empty hands. "It's up to you. I wouldn't blame you if you said no. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't trust me to put my hand innocently on your forehead."
Trust was so devalued in Czeslaw's world that he didn't even trust himself. Maiza would have his work cut out for him. "If you're willing to let me see you in those most troubled of times, I don't feel I should even consider turning you down."
Czeslaw had reiterated his warnings. Was it a matter of 'one could never be too sure' or 'I want you to say no even though I'm offering you the opportunity to say yes?' Maiza gently reaffirmed his choice. Working within the Martillo family, Maiza had encountered some complex people and a lot of simpler ones. Czeslaw was more complicated than most.
Sharing those harrowing memories (and they were disturbing indeed), had tightened the bond that had already existed between Czeslaw and Maiza, but it hadn't solved any problems (not that either man had expected it to).
As Czeslaw moved tentatively up against Maiza, the older man was left to wonder if he would feel more or less comfortable about this if Czes looked like less of a child. At least his feelings wouldn't be quite so confused. Czes' toes brushed against his bare skin. They were cold. Maiza wrapped his arm around Czeslaw's dainty shoulders and found him, even with the covering of his nightshirt, as if he had taken a nocturnal dip in the East River. "Do you need an extra blanket on your bed?"
"Not really. Not yet, at least," Czeslaw scooted his head forward until his forehead touched Maiza's chest, just below the collarbone. "I was chilled by fright."
Day/Theme: Aug. 3, 2011 "I hope for a passion that could shatter illusions"
Series: Baccano!
Character/Pairing: Maiza/Czeslaw
Rating: PG-13 (here- rating will rise in later parts)
Author's comment: To be continued on the 4th.
There came a tapping at the door, some gentle type of knock meant to awaken Maiza but not to disturb anyone else. If it were Firo, he wouldn't have hesitated. After knocking, he would come right in. It was someone less familiar with the rowdy, awkwardly mannered way things went around there. Maiza sat up and reached onto the side table for his glasses. He had a feeling he knew who he would find, but he wasn't the type to make assumptions. "Come in," he invited.
He didn't have to raise his gaze. It was already poised at the perfect level to take in the wide-eyed face peeking in. Czeslaw, as expected. " Should I turn on the light?" his hand wavered over the switch.
"If you would like. But if there's no need for it, leave it off." Maiza adjusted the collar of his nightshirt, but didn't rise from his place in bed. It wasn't exactly his ordinary sort of manners, but this wasn't exactly an ordinary situation. Immortal business and Martillo family business, although they now overlapped, were two different things. In any case, Czeslaw probably wasn't here in the middle of the night about anything "official" at all. He was a deeply troubled man, and while Maiza might not be able to make everything right (there wasn't, for instance, any way for him to change the past), he would do everything in his power to bring positive change to Czes' life.
Czeslaw declined to flip the switch. There was moonlight enough for his purposes. "I keep waking up. I have nightmares." Indeed, he was pale and unable to completely still his trembling. "I was wondering, if it's not too much of an imposition, could I sleep in your bed?"
"Of course not," Maiza smiled. If that small action would be enough to soothe Czeslaw's woes, wouldn't it be a miraculous thing? Maiza knew that such an outcome was well beyond the bounds of reasonable thinking.
"Thank you." The inner brightness generated by the tiny smile arising in his eyes brought the welling of withheld tears to Maiza's attention. If Czeslaw didn't comment on them though, he wouldn't either. Not all problems need to be discussed head on.
Czeslaw's pale nightshirt slid up over his knees as he climbed into bed on Maiza's left. His skin was pale. No scars endured, despite the innumerable tortures he had been through. In a tiny boyish voice, but with the words and weight of a man, Czeslaw whispered hints of things too terrible to name. "I could show you," he made that fearful offer, "Though it's all things that no one should have to see. All I can bear to say I've already said." He held up his small, empty hands. "It's up to you. I wouldn't blame you if you said no. I wouldn't blame you if you didn't trust me to put my hand innocently on your forehead."
Trust was so devalued in Czeslaw's world that he didn't even trust himself. Maiza would have his work cut out for him. "If you're willing to let me see you in those most troubled of times, I don't feel I should even consider turning you down."
Czeslaw had reiterated his warnings. Was it a matter of 'one could never be too sure' or 'I want you to say no even though I'm offering you the opportunity to say yes?' Maiza gently reaffirmed his choice. Working within the Martillo family, Maiza had encountered some complex people and a lot of simpler ones. Czeslaw was more complicated than most.
Sharing those harrowing memories (and they were disturbing indeed), had tightened the bond that had already existed between Czeslaw and Maiza, but it hadn't solved any problems (not that either man had expected it to).
As Czeslaw moved tentatively up against Maiza, the older man was left to wonder if he would feel more or less comfortable about this if Czes looked like less of a child. At least his feelings wouldn't be quite so confused. Czes' toes brushed against his bare skin. They were cold. Maiza wrapped his arm around Czeslaw's dainty shoulders and found him, even with the covering of his nightshirt, as if he had taken a nocturnal dip in the East River. "Do you need an extra blanket on your bed?"
"Not really. Not yet, at least," Czeslaw scooted his head forward until his forehead touched Maiza's chest, just below the collarbone. "I was chilled by fright."