李杏 | Frances J., a lion-hearted girl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
perfectworry) wrote2012-07-07 02:20 pm
perfectworry) wrote2012-07-07 02:20 pm
[original: people's republic] Last Night (A Million Years Ago & A Million Worlds Away)
title: Last Night (A Million Years Ago & A Million Worlds Away)
'verse: People's Republic of Heaven
community:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writerverse
prompt: Phase #03: Challenge #14: Weekly Quick Fic #05 ("ill met by moonlight" + "thunderbird" + "empathy" + "understanding" + "friends falling in love" (whew!))
characters: Salomé
rating: T?
summary: On their last night together, Salomé didn't even bother to say goodbye.
She didn't call herself Salomé back then.
That night - it might have been a million years ago now and it was a million worlds away - she sat on the roof of a fancy car beside a black haired man with brilliant green eyes. The stars were burning themselves out above her head.
He stretched out beside her, back against the windshield. He's smoking a cigarette and talking with his hands.
"Shut up, asshole," she said, punching him lightly on the arm. In the silence that followed, she leaned over him to light her cigarette, and they were almost kissing until the paper caught and she sat back up again to look at the sky.
They sat in silence for awhile, watching the stars. Their thoughts ran parallel, both of them thinking about what the morning light would bring.
"We're fucked," he exhaled smoke she could see illuminated by the moonlight. It blurred her vision for a moment, but it's not enough to erase the memory of his face.
"Probably," she agreed.
She sat cross legged next to him, hands resting on her knees. She might have liked to lay down beside him, but she didn't and she doesn't regret it. It's better to remember him for who they were and not for what might have been between them. Still, when she watches Frances's heart breaking, so many worlds away, she remembers his face with stunning clarity; in her mind, his eyes aren't obscured by time and his name hurts too much to say.
She and the man who would later call himself Gabriel Aldreich would run from that world like bats out of hell and she would have to leave this man behind.
She didn't say that to him then. She didn't tell him goodbye. It was always easier to just disappear, change her name, and try to forget the friends she made when they jumped from one world to the next.
That night, they sat next to each other and the name on his lips is one she hasn't ever had the heart to call herself again in her long years. It hurt too much to hear someone else say it out loud.
There's a card in her deck, 3"x5", white with blue lines and in her untidy scrawl has no name, only: Never fall in love with your friends again.
'verse: People's Republic of Heaven
community:
writerverse prompt: Phase #03: Challenge #14: Weekly Quick Fic #05 ("ill met by moonlight" + "thunderbird" + "empathy" + "understanding" + "friends falling in love" (whew!))
characters: Salomé
rating: T?
summary: On their last night together, Salomé didn't even bother to say goodbye.
She didn't call herself Salomé back then.
That night - it might have been a million years ago now and it was a million worlds away - she sat on the roof of a fancy car beside a black haired man with brilliant green eyes. The stars were burning themselves out above her head.
He stretched out beside her, back against the windshield. He's smoking a cigarette and talking with his hands.
"Shut up, asshole," she said, punching him lightly on the arm. In the silence that followed, she leaned over him to light her cigarette, and they were almost kissing until the paper caught and she sat back up again to look at the sky.
They sat in silence for awhile, watching the stars. Their thoughts ran parallel, both of them thinking about what the morning light would bring.
"We're fucked," he exhaled smoke she could see illuminated by the moonlight. It blurred her vision for a moment, but it's not enough to erase the memory of his face.
"Probably," she agreed.
She sat cross legged next to him, hands resting on her knees. She might have liked to lay down beside him, but she didn't and she doesn't regret it. It's better to remember him for who they were and not for what might have been between them. Still, when she watches Frances's heart breaking, so many worlds away, she remembers his face with stunning clarity; in her mind, his eyes aren't obscured by time and his name hurts too much to say.
She and the man who would later call himself Gabriel Aldreich would run from that world like bats out of hell and she would have to leave this man behind.
She didn't say that to him then. She didn't tell him goodbye. It was always easier to just disappear, change her name, and try to forget the friends she made when they jumped from one world to the next.
That night, they sat next to each other and the name on his lips is one she hasn't ever had the heart to call herself again in her long years. It hurt too much to hear someone else say it out loud.
There's a card in her deck, 3"x5", white with blue lines and in her untidy scrawl has no name, only: Never fall in love with your friends again.