nightcenturymountain: (standoffish)
[personal profile] nightcenturymountain
2 x 100 word short-fic-bit-things. rated g for general audiences, because there is nothing here that will challenge any of your perceptions. not that there usually is anything like that in my writings (so she says). ^___^
What's that, you ask? Am I writing again? ...well. Maybe. ^_~


Shukaido knew guilt. If he knew nothing else, he knew guilt.

Standing silent with Shion’s arms around him; soft apologetic words spilling strangely from that mouth, usually filled with insults—yes, Shukaido knew guilt.

“I was wrong about you.”

He thinks I’ve saved her...

Shukaido thought, abstractly, of the curve of Mokuren’s cheek, the way she brushed her hair back from her eyes, the smile she reserved for Shion, and Shion alone. He closed his eyes and shuttered his heart. His own death meant nothing; it was practically foreordained. Her death was more difficult to justify.

Yes, Shukaido knew guilt.

this pain.

Some things are better left as dreams. He knew this. It didn’t matter.

It didn’t stop the memories from spilling forth, drowning his waking hours in a mutinous haze of hands and heat and bitterly unrequited love. It couldn’t keep his heart from beating faster when Jinpachi’s serious brown eyes met his and held them. He always looked away first, each time more certain that his secrets were laid bare.

He prayed and cursed and entreated both God and Sarjalim, but nothing changed. The dreams kept flowing, his memories of the moon continued spreading their unwanted poison through his life.


nightcenturymountain: (Default)

March 2010

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