| Warm (Morpheus) |
[08 Nov 2008|05:41pm] |
OOC: Set after this.
London's November hand had long since seized the night, strangled all the sun, and drained the heat from the ground. Condensation slid into the corners of her fragile windowpanes and dripped onto the sills. In front of the empty wood-burning heater, Nanshe could hear the tiny sounds it made, even under the nighttime sounds of the city outside. Desert creatures always heard water when it was close; precious and scarce, survival of their people had depended on it at one time. Now it filtered in and out of her consciousness, a whisper louder to her than the random staggering footsteps or raucous masculine calls outside. But it was hard to appreciate the beauty of that shushing fall of water, just now.
Her hands were curled around the block of firewood she had in her lap, but her eyes were unfocused. The chill of her run-down flat had long ago slid past her notice. Behind the glass of her fixed stare, too many thoughts ran rampant, and at such a pace as to be uncatchable.
The night had been a distraction, albeit a poor one, for as long as it had lasted. In the end, she couldn't endure the company of her dear friend and dearer brother - not because she didn't hold them close in her heart, but because their presence around her reminded her too sharply of just how alone she truly was. It shouldn't have ever been this way.
There was no end to her calculations, but no matter how many times she twisted and turned the brief relationship she shared with Utu, she couldn't find a way that would have ended better than it had. What was it about her? Or was it him? Or was it them together? What had she done wrong, and what had he? The distance... He'd been happy with her; she was certain of it. She was sure. Again, she drew up the picture of Utu at her window, lanky figure sprawled lengthwise across the rail, rose clenched in his teeth, and his tongue trying to mumble through thorns and stem. The smile still came, but the edges of her lips twisted at the end of it, and her eyes burned too sharply. Yes, he'd been happy. She'd been happy. And for everything, she couldn't find what it was that had drawn up that restlessness in him. She couldn't find the reason why he had to leave her. It was not in her nature to cling when it was time to let go; that was a lesson she'd learned too soon and too well from her widows to now change. But with all of her heart, she missed him.
A knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts. How long had she been sitting here on the floor? Her feet were numb. Her fingers were numb. When she scrambled to stand, she tripped over her pin-prickling legs and the early evening's carelessly-discarded shoes. But for all her flailing about, there was truly no reason for it. She'd apparently left the door unlocked, and apparently the frame around the doorknob needed only that pressure of the knock to give way. The door swung open, letting in pale yellow lamplight and the shadow of someone else. While she tried to get her balance, she called, "Come in!"
Whoever it was, it wasn't a mortal. She knew that almost immediately. But it wasn't family.... Familiar... She didn't have time to pin down that feeling of familiarity before the figure stepped into the room.
|
|
