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magic_fratboyWhen I'm alone I dream of the horizon and words fail me.
There is no light in a room where there is no sun
and there is no sun if you're not here with me, with me.
From every window unfurls my heart the heart that you have won.
Into me you've poured the light,
the light that you found by the side of the road.
====================
Sitting in his studio, surrounded by his paintings, he can feel her. If he closes his eyes, he can feel her without pain or fear, at his side and in the world…and in the canvas.
“You were here.”
He whispers to the empty room full of visions and figments, but he also whispers into the light of day, into the air that moves through space and connects him to everything. Wherever she is, whatever’s being done to her, she’s breathing that air and occupying the same space he’s in…distant, out of reach, but real and blessedly alive.
“You were here all along. You never left…you were taken. Every breath, every heartbeat, I can feel them…I could feel them the whole time.”
The dark, ghastly lines of Amystika are beautiful to him now, a dark and glorious vision of her violent nature. She is an Immortal, a dealer in death and bloodsport. Talons for fingers, sharp as her sword, ice blue eyes as cold and as calculating as her killer instinct.
The faceless bride is the soul only he’s ever seen, the one he found when she found him. She’s prostrate at his feet, waiting for him to come and claim her…she’s been waiting for him this whole time, and he was too much a fool to hear her calling him.
Stopping before the vaguest of the paintings, jet black backdrop splashed with blobs of light, he reaches out and lays his hand against the canvas. Closing his eyes, he draws in her breath, feels her in the warmth of the air and the stillness that settles into his bones, nourishes him.
He can see the light changing, shifting behind closed eyelids, the vision returning and sharpening. There are figures now, human shapes with faces he can’t see. The figures have limbs, though…one with slim, athletic lines and another set lacking in so many ways, limbs that know the fire of an Amazon’s hands…
He can see with power he didn’t know he had. He can see them together, he can feel her body against his again. He can feel it and see it with a sudden, sharp lance of desire that makes it impossible to breathe for just a moment.
Her scent is with him. Her body is so close, and for a moment he can swear she’s reaching for him…he can swear that he hears her voice, the ghost of a shout, or is it a scream?...
“I can finally see you…and I’m coming.”
Pausing for a moment, he moves away from the painting and out of the room. He walks through the house and to the sliding glass door leading out to the backyard. The air touches his face, too cool compared to the outside, telling him he has the heater on too high.
He closes his eyes and wraps her essence around him, feels power in his blood for the first time since the day she died…and he sends his words out on a beam of sunlight, a breath of air that will find her lips and lungs and carry his message from his soul to hers.
“I’m waiting.”
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 522
There is no light in a room where there is no sun
and there is no sun if you're not here with me, with me.
From every window unfurls my heart the heart that you have won.
Into me you've poured the light,
the light that you found by the side of the road.
====================
Sitting in his studio, surrounded by his paintings, he can feel her. If he closes his eyes, he can feel her without pain or fear, at his side and in the world…and in the canvas.
“You were here.”
He whispers to the empty room full of visions and figments, but he also whispers into the light of day, into the air that moves through space and connects him to everything. Wherever she is, whatever’s being done to her, she’s breathing that air and occupying the same space he’s in…distant, out of reach, but real and blessedly alive.
“You were here all along. You never left…you were taken. Every breath, every heartbeat, I can feel them…I could feel them the whole time.”
The dark, ghastly lines of Amystika are beautiful to him now, a dark and glorious vision of her violent nature. She is an Immortal, a dealer in death and bloodsport. Talons for fingers, sharp as her sword, ice blue eyes as cold and as calculating as her killer instinct.
The faceless bride is the soul only he’s ever seen, the one he found when she found him. She’s prostrate at his feet, waiting for him to come and claim her…she’s been waiting for him this whole time, and he was too much a fool to hear her calling him.
Stopping before the vaguest of the paintings, jet black backdrop splashed with blobs of light, he reaches out and lays his hand against the canvas. Closing his eyes, he draws in her breath, feels her in the warmth of the air and the stillness that settles into his bones, nourishes him.
He can see the light changing, shifting behind closed eyelids, the vision returning and sharpening. There are figures now, human shapes with faces he can’t see. The figures have limbs, though…one with slim, athletic lines and another set lacking in so many ways, limbs that know the fire of an Amazon’s hands…
He can see with power he didn’t know he had. He can see them together, he can feel her body against his again. He can feel it and see it with a sudden, sharp lance of desire that makes it impossible to breathe for just a moment.
Her scent is with him. Her body is so close, and for a moment he can swear she’s reaching for him…he can swear that he hears her voice, the ghost of a shout, or is it a scream?...
“I can finally see you…and I’m coming.”
Pausing for a moment, he moves away from the painting and out of the room. He walks through the house and to the sliding glass door leading out to the backyard. The air touches his face, too cool compared to the outside, telling him he has the heater on too high.
He closes his eyes and wraps her essence around him, feels power in his blood for the first time since the day she died…and he sends his words out on a beam of sunlight, a breath of air that will find her lips and lungs and carry his message from his soul to hers.
“I’m waiting.”
Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 522
