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31_days2005-08-10 11:19 pm
of-carabas.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-08-10 11:19 pm
[August 10] [Mars] Whole
Title: Whole
Day/Theme: August 10th/Way of difference
Series: Mars
Pairing: Rei/Kira
Rating: PG13
He's not the one for her.
Late at night, with her hair spilling across his chest, when she feels so fragile in his arms, these thoughts go through his head.
He's all edges, sharp and rough; no one can get too close to him for long, not without getting hurt. That's the way it's always been. She's been hurt enough already, so much that he wants to hold her close and make all the pain go away - but being held close by something sharp and rough doesn't heal anything, does it? That's not for her.
He's rushing through his life, racing, barely pausing to look around. She sees so much, sitting quietly in a park, taking in everything around her and recording it in flowing lines and vivid colors. She takes two steps for every one of his. They don't match.
These aren't things he would ever say by the light of day. If someone else were to tell him, stay away from Kira, this thing isn't going to work, he'd knock the moron out. Because Kira was his, and he was Kira's, and fuck anyone who tried to change that.
But at night, it got to him. Worried him. Because yes, Kira was his and he was Kira's, and no, no one else could change that. No one but themselves, with all the hundred tiny and not-so-tiny differences working their way between them.
It worried him. For a few moments, or minutes, or hours.
But eventually, Kira would sigh, and roll over, and pull closer to him in the dark. Her arm fitting just so, here. Her head tucked against his shoulder, there. A physical demonstration, a silent reminder, that it was the differences between them were what let them fit perfectly together, seamlessly, tying them together until they were both, somehow, whole.
Day/Theme: August 10th/Way of difference
Series: Mars
Pairing: Rei/Kira
Rating: PG13
He's not the one for her.
Late at night, with her hair spilling across his chest, when she feels so fragile in his arms, these thoughts go through his head.
He's all edges, sharp and rough; no one can get too close to him for long, not without getting hurt. That's the way it's always been. She's been hurt enough already, so much that he wants to hold her close and make all the pain go away - but being held close by something sharp and rough doesn't heal anything, does it? That's not for her.
He's rushing through his life, racing, barely pausing to look around. She sees so much, sitting quietly in a park, taking in everything around her and recording it in flowing lines and vivid colors. She takes two steps for every one of his. They don't match.
These aren't things he would ever say by the light of day. If someone else were to tell him, stay away from Kira, this thing isn't going to work, he'd knock the moron out. Because Kira was his, and he was Kira's, and fuck anyone who tried to change that.
But at night, it got to him. Worried him. Because yes, Kira was his and he was Kira's, and no, no one else could change that. No one but themselves, with all the hundred tiny and not-so-tiny differences working their way between them.
It worried him. For a few moments, or minutes, or hours.
But eventually, Kira would sigh, and roll over, and pull closer to him in the dark. Her arm fitting just so, here. Her head tucked against his shoulder, there. A physical demonstration, a silent reminder, that it was the differences between them were what let them fit perfectly together, seamlessly, tying them together until they were both, somehow, whole.