krisomniac (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
krisomniac) wrote2005-05-08 10:56 pm
krisomniac) wrote2005-05-08 10:56 pm
Ficlet: Rebuild
Title: Rebuild
Atuhor:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
krislaughs
Word Count: 543
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Jo or whomever she's signed it away to. All but the last quoted lines are from Order of the Phoenix, American Hardcover, dread page 806.
Author's Notes: Meh. It's late, I've been in a bit of a rut and so I decided to try something new. Don't know that it works, I mean at all. Let me know.
Summary: Every time Sirius closes his eyes, the world disappears. When he opens them, it returns.
Rebuild
He was a Saturday stumbled upon in the middle of an endless week of work. He was warm afternoons and sunset filtered through autumn leaves. He was the sound of waves crashing against rock, the silence of bread rising in the oven, the whisper of hands tracing the lines on his face.
Sirius closed his eyes.
With the sudden fear that he would forget the curve of Remus' spine, the musky-sweet scent of leaves and parchment and honey in his tea, the butterfly touch of lashes against his cheek, he opened them again.
Remus was still there.
In the moment his eyes were shut and the world went black, Sirius imagined it was all a dream, that this was the dream -- this bed and quilt and curtains blowing in the breeze, the figure breathing deeply beside him -- and the dark, awake. How he longed to ride the air, in and out, past those lips, those.... The dark was full of living things waiting. In a moment his world collapsed.
And as his pupils focussed, it was rebuilt -- built by the pinpoints of light travelling millions of miles to bounce off Remus' skin and into his eyes.
He blinked, and the world disintegrated again.
Eyes open, it returned.
Everything was still.
There was no sound. The bugs buzzed, birds chirped, even the air moved silently.
With every breath, Sirius soared from himself into something... else. Inhale, he rose. Exhale, he fell. He landed softly, almost felt the cotton under his cheek, almost reached out to touch the figure beside him, almost imagined that Remus would turn and smile, touch him kind. Then he could close his eyes, breathe, and stay in the world.
He lay still.
"SIRIUS! SIRIUS!" A scream rent the silence, anguish of the baby bird tumbling from its nest, fighting to find its wings.
The darkness was complete. He couldn't open his eyes. Heart thudding through the matter of the thing that was himself, he could only listen.
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"
His lids fluttered open, and silence welcomed him into her soothing embrace. The back of the figure beside him rose and fell, and with every breath, he was lifted from -- and returned to -- himself. Every time he closed his eyes, the world collapsed, and every time they opened, the sun rose again.
The things in the dark were waiting, waiting to taste the honeyed moment, waiting to find the key to the place where his eyes were open.
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"
Light. The curtains hung limp over the sill. The blankets were still, bed empty as the space between stars. A hand beckoned for him to rise, to follow where it lead. A thin scar ran from the littlest finger, over a network of faint veins, across bones that gently rose and fell under skin and ended on his wrist. He was a Saturday discovered in the middle of the week, the panes of glass that kept the weather outside and let the sun shine in.
"Save him, he's only just gone through!"
"shhhh," Remus mouthed, kneeling by the bed beside him. "I will."
Atuhor:
krislaughsWord Count: 543
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Jo or whomever she's signed it away to. All but the last quoted lines are from Order of the Phoenix, American Hardcover, dread page 806.
Author's Notes: Meh. It's late, I've been in a bit of a rut and so I decided to try something new. Don't know that it works, I mean at all. Let me know.
Summary: Every time Sirius closes his eyes, the world disappears. When he opens them, it returns.
Rebuild
He was a Saturday stumbled upon in the middle of an endless week of work. He was warm afternoons and sunset filtered through autumn leaves. He was the sound of waves crashing against rock, the silence of bread rising in the oven, the whisper of hands tracing the lines on his face.
Sirius closed his eyes.
With the sudden fear that he would forget the curve of Remus' spine, the musky-sweet scent of leaves and parchment and honey in his tea, the butterfly touch of lashes against his cheek, he opened them again.
Remus was still there.
In the moment his eyes were shut and the world went black, Sirius imagined it was all a dream, that this was the dream -- this bed and quilt and curtains blowing in the breeze, the figure breathing deeply beside him -- and the dark, awake. How he longed to ride the air, in and out, past those lips, those.... The dark was full of living things waiting. In a moment his world collapsed.
And as his pupils focussed, it was rebuilt -- built by the pinpoints of light travelling millions of miles to bounce off Remus' skin and into his eyes.
He blinked, and the world disintegrated again.
Eyes open, it returned.
Everything was still.
There was no sound. The bugs buzzed, birds chirped, even the air moved silently.
With every breath, Sirius soared from himself into something... else. Inhale, he rose. Exhale, he fell. He landed softly, almost felt the cotton under his cheek, almost reached out to touch the figure beside him, almost imagined that Remus would turn and smile, touch him kind. Then he could close his eyes, breathe, and stay in the world.
He lay still.
"SIRIUS! SIRIUS!" A scream rent the silence, anguish of the baby bird tumbling from its nest, fighting to find its wings.
The darkness was complete. He couldn't open his eyes. Heart thudding through the matter of the thing that was himself, he could only listen.
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"
His lids fluttered open, and silence welcomed him into her soothing embrace. The back of the figure beside him rose and fell, and with every breath, he was lifted from -- and returned to -- himself. Every time he closed his eyes, the world collapsed, and every time they opened, the sun rose again.
The things in the dark were waiting, waiting to taste the honeyed moment, waiting to find the key to the place where his eyes were open.
"Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!"
Light. The curtains hung limp over the sill. The blankets were still, bed empty as the space between stars. A hand beckoned for him to rise, to follow where it lead. A thin scar ran from the littlest finger, over a network of faint veins, across bones that gently rose and fell under skin and ended on his wrist. He was a Saturday discovered in the middle of the week, the panes of glass that kept the weather outside and let the sun shine in.
"Save him, he's only just gone through!"
"shhhh," Remus mouthed, kneeling by the bed beside him. "I will."
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Every time he closed his eyes, the world collapsed, and every time they opened, the sun rose again. I love that line.
And the end, oh, I loved the ending.
"Shhhh," Remus mouthed, kneeling by the bed beside him. "I will."
^^ Just in case you couldn't remember it! XD I'm adding this to my reclist when I update it.
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You want to write. You want to be poetic. You want to be lyrical. You want people to describe your work as beautiful. Please take note: THIS IS HOW YOU DO IT, YOU GREAT FLOUNDERING PLONKERS.
Thank you,
K.
P.S. Okay, the title and the last line make me hopeful. Are they supposed to make me hopeful?
P.P.S. The line about the baby bird makes me forgive all of Harry's CAPSLOCKY nonsense. Yep, one little line you have accomplished something that Jo couldn't manage in 800+ pages: I want to give Harry a hug.
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Gorgeous prose, and so very poetic, but not the poetic where you need cliff's notes to decipher it and you wonder where you missed something because it doesn't seem to make sense without some serious analyzing - it was like a stream of images and senses, and it was beautifully done. Considering this was something of experimental writing for you, it's even more impressive.
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