Title: Through the Art of Loving
Sub-Title:Of Our Love and Voices
Genre: Romance
Rating Fiction Rated: K+
Summary: None at the moment.
Author's Note: A little short story that has been in my computer for quite some time. Enjoy.
Through The Art of Loving
- Of Our Love and Voices –
The disappearing fragments of my memory
Are stored within my heart, packed with care so they will never be broken
You slipped through my fingertips and vanished into the night sky, never look back
Like those stars, my heart will also sink into darkness...Your voice calling from beyond the lightStill echoes like it did on that dayThis sadness must have an end, so
Somehow, I will reach you
"In a castle long forgotten, a sleeping princess awaits for a true love's kiss."
"...a true love's kiss?"
"A kiss bestowed by only one who can make your heart sings and your body feels alive."
"…someone like Big Brother and Brother Conrad?"
"Even more, my sweet prince."
"Even more-" a small frown marred his forehead as the young boy of eight wistfully thought. "Someone like…Papa Weller to Mama?"
"Why him and not your father?"
Thoughtfully the boy frowned again. A slight blush dusted his cheeks and nose while his eyes shyly glanced at the smiling young woman.
"Because he treats Mama like the other Papas do. He's kind to me and Brother Conrad – Calia?"
"Will there be someone like Papa Weller for me?"
The smile widened on the young nanny's face as she gathered the young boy up her lap. Her arms enveloped his small body and her cheek pressed softly upon the soft golden crown of hair.
"Absolutely, sweet prince. There is always a special someone for everyone. And yours…yours will be someone will the purest of heart. Most worthy of you."
"…a true love's kiss…"
Eyes of green viewed the gloomy night with nothing more than a cold glint. A hand pressed hard against the cold window pane as the eyes shifted from the wet trails of raindrops towards the moon instead.
A hand slipped past his bare thin shoulder, towards the slipped robe, pulling it up to rest snugly upon the shoulder. A mouth, hinted with a smile, touched the shell of his ear.
"What are you doing up, princess? Come back to the bed, we can't allow that beautiful skin be damaged by the cold air."
He allowed the hands to turn him around, to press him closely against a hard body. With automatic pretence enthusiasm, his arms rose and curled around the neck and soft kisses traced along his own. Knowing his partner's preference, he arched as he let out a soft gasp. His eyes, emotionless as ever, stared at the black nothingness of the room over his partner's shoulder. An untimely gasp escaped him, his body arched even more and his eyes closed.
"Calia, you told me that if I wish hard, and if I was sincere, someone like Papa Weller will come for me."
His body lay pliant atop the soft mattress, arranged to please, as his arms slid up towards the hard metal of the headrest. His fingers curled around the tiny rods of the headrest. The sounds around became customary to his ears. His eyes, heavy and hooded, stared at the body hovering above him. The smile his partner wore turned into somewhat of a leer and his eyes closed once again.
"I wished with everything I had, Calia. I wished with my body, my heart and even my soul. For someone as pure as you've said to come and take me away from everything that hurts me. But Calia,"
Two bodies contorted to one another, the heated sounds growing louder. The slapping of bodies, the urgency in the night. The sins committed under the velvet cloak of darkness. And soon, he was enticed by the darkness. He tried his best, to ignore the sounds. He knew he did…tried his best to ignore the soft cries and moans he made.
"No one came for me. Not even after years of waiting, Calia. Wishing is only for the hopeful, Calia. And I am no longer that innocence anymore."
His tear trembled slightly before slipping down a soft white cheek as his body arched one last time. He trembled with the finality of the act.
"You lied, Calia. There is no one for me."
The lonely petal of a sorrowfully blooming flower fell with a sigh, faintly and diminishingly in the darkness.
"…his beautiful hair shines even brighter than the sun, like spun gold. His eyes...they will burn like green flames in the throes of passion. This I promise you that!"
On cue, at the sound of the snap of fingers, he pushed himself off the wall which he had been leaning docilely against. His hands lifted to the hood covering his head, and pushed it back. And as always, there was a gasp of delight that came accompanied with his showing of his long 'spun gold' hair. With a trained movement, he tilted his head to the side. His lips stretched to accommodate a smile of seduction. His cold eyes showed a little promise of a good time. His partner, blue eyes glinting, turned to smile knowingly at him as the enraptured client stood motionlessly while staring at him.
A hand, slender and feminine, lifted with its palm facing toward the cold misty moon above. It gave a small gesture, an offering. The unnamed man drew a sharp intake of breath as he lifted his own trembling hand.
His smile widened, a shock of his bangs sliding to hide part of his face. His hand gestured again, and the other slowly and reluctantly came to grasp his.
Even if I were to turn back the hands of time, I could never return to the time of innocence.
The bed dipped and moved as the body beside him rose and turned. The sound of rustling alerted him, his eyes opening only to stare at the black darkness of the room. When he heard the final sound of a zip, he made himself turn and pushed up by an elbow. A wicked grin in place, his eyes turned a smoky green.
"Final last kiss for the road, stranger?"
The back he faced stiffened before it twisted back at the waist, facing him once again. His head tilted to the side, allowing the invading lips to do its pursuit.
I'm terrified of these four walls
They can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Emptiness. That was what he felt as he stared at the mirror. Blankness. Even he could not read the blank expression the reflection had. He turned away from the sight of his own. Darkness. The darkness of the room, the black around, was suffocating. Draining and swallowing. The sound of thunder, the brilliant light of the lightning that always came after illuminated the entire room. Shadows casted here and there, elongated and disappeared. In silence, he stared out of the window.
The sound of the rain pattering. The cold came in wisps as the sound of the rain grew a little louder. His eyes never wavered from the trailing lines of water that ran against the glass. He started to move towards the fascinating sight of the water, and brought himself to sit in the chair directly against the window. A delicate finger lifted and precariously traced a line of water as he leaned his head onto the cool glass pane. Lush lashes of dark gold swept against pale cheeks.
It was only this time that he allowed himself to dream. Dream of freedom he longed for. Dream of a love his caretaker had told him of. He did not care that he already knew it was just a wishful delusion.
His delusion would have him living in a far, far away, a castle with a magnificent view of its surroundings. He was a prince, a possible candidate for the throne. He had everything he could ever dream off.
"Calia, it hurts when reality invades."
A hand rose to a wet cheek, his eyes staring mutely at his shiny glistening fingers. With quick swipes, his eyes and cheeks were once again dry.
A knock at the door was what he heard next, causing him to turn slightly. He watched with stilled quietness as the doorknob slowly turned and the door itself was gently pushed. His eyes caught sight of the well-built body clothed in a crisp suit first, lingering there for a moment before travelling up to a pair of dark, dark eyes. The concern was clear in the dark eyes and he broke down. Repressed and bottled, his emotions emerged in soft sniffles and soon quiet sobs.
"I want my innocence back. I want to go back before all this happened. I want -"
A hand snaked around his body, pulling him close to the hard body he watched under the doorway, and at the same time another hand cradled the back of his head. His face was gently pressed onto the crisp texture of the suit. He jerked once but the strong grip was relentless.
All I really want is to be free from this world
I don't ever want to feel like I did that day
So please take me to somewhere I love
"Please take me all the way."
Author's Note: I will be restarting work on "In The Darkness" and the second arc of "The Voice of My Troubled Heart" which I will probably call it "To You, I Finally Thee Wed". I can not promise that I will be able to complete a new chapters for them any time soon, but they currently 'in progess'. In actuality, the first chapter of "To You, I Finally Thee Wed". I am also 'developing' another short story, currently 80% done. This new short story will be called "Symphony of Ours" and has no ties to any of my other stories.
Summary of "Symphony of Ours" : It was said that a composition can reveal one's sould and mind. So through lyrical words and melodic sounds, he sought to convey his to everyone but most particularly to only one.