Author's Notes: Subaru POV, angst, death, sensuality and a touch of severe unreality
And Bells Shall Chime
I can only run so far before I get too tired. My legs turn to stone and somehow root themselves to the ground. Heavy arms rise up, bringing fingers to my sweaty brow... warm liquid on my fingertips, filling up the grooves. I don't know why I do this.
Every Sunday morning, I run. Down the quiet pre-dawn streets, cheap sneakers pounding against cracked pavement. I know each dandelion that grows relentlessly past the blacktop, splitting it open and struggling for sunlight. I make sure not to tread on them as I run. They have a right to be here. Just like I do. I have a right to be running before the world awakes, I have a right to be breathing in the humid air before the congestion of cars forces the oxygen away, I have a right to enjoy the sound of my breathing... I have a right to live and try to find daylight. Or for daylight to find me, as it does every Sunday morning. Peeking over the edge of night, illuminating the buildings and the mountains..... Earth covered in a shade of yellow.
A bell chimes, five tolls then silence. ....I peer around for a moment, feeling watched. Something tickles the hair at the nape of my neck. Just a breeze, though. It is not.... I shut my eyes, willing the idea away before it can start. And I prod my feet forward, slowly picking up speed again.
I was reading when I fell asleep.
I was sleeping when I began this dream.
I was dreaming.....
I was dreaming when I saw you again.
A small laugh escapes past my lips. A sound that so reminds me of my youth, unstoppable humor at the smallest of things. A coffee mug. A penguin. A hat. You look over at me, trying to be serious... but I can see amusement in your eyes. I don't marvel at the fact that I can watch you the entire time I am running down the street. Cool air caressing my damp skin. All sounds muted except for my small chuckle and the air exhaled from my nose. You watching me. I watching you. Maybe I think you are running, too. Running in your suit and tie, coat billowing behind you like a raven's wing.... and your dark sunglasses have blown away.....
A bell chimes, five tolls then silence..... I ask you if you hear it and you only smile, that smile I know so well, that smile that haunts me..... Left foot collides with the right and I cannot stop my fall, my body smacking against the hard surface below.
I was touching you when you spoke.
I was speaking when you kissed me.
I was kissing you when you died.
I turn over timidly. The bones in my chest pop and crack. I gingerly touch my wrist, noting the blossom of a bruise upon my pale skin. I breathe out and my breath is a gray fog. It is cold. I push myself up, feeling the familiar slush of snow against my hands. The sweat dramatically turning to icy rivers on my body. In a rush, you descend.....fingers pushing me back down, fingers parting my lips and slipping cold flesh into my warm mouth... I wanted to fight you off, but darker wants are controlling me. My eyes shut and I wrap my tongue around your index finger, tasting smoke and copper.... I make love to your hand, kissing and sucking and nibbling. Arctic air chills my now exposed torso, causing gooseflesh to spread and causing me to suck my stomach in.
A bell chimes, five tolls then silence.... You dip your tongue into my navel and all my thoughts drift to the heat between my legs, how it bums and how it throbs and how it aches for you. I think I beg you to touch me, knees opening wide.... My eyelids fluttering open once as you smother me with your body, focusing on a soggy brown weed buried in the snow.
I was dying when you left me.
I was leaving when you called me.
I was calling to you when you.......
I wake up earlier than usual this Sunday morning. The dusk-like blue is still blanketing the sky. I can't find my running shoes. I pad around barefoot and look under every surface. Nothing. The window is open and I hear the faint sound of distant clapping, drawing nearer and nearer. My eyes scan the street below and I think I see you. I am gripping the window sill very hard, my knuckles turning a deadly white.
A bell chimes, five tolls then silence.... You've ran off with my shoes and I drop to my knees.
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