Oneshot : Morning
Title: Morning
Pairing: Ohmiya
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Disclaimer: Never own them, and probably never will.
Summary: He's finally awake.
Notes: It's short and a bit depressing, I think.
He was awake on that morning.
It probably had been a week, or a month, perhaps even a year since the last time he was actually awake - or nearly close in being a functioning adult. He can’t even remember anymore because his hours, his minutes and his seconds had been muddled up into one pile of forgotten mess. Truth was, he had stopped caring a long time ago.
He blinked, eyes staring bleakly at the white-painted walls of his bedroom. It was a moment just before dawn, the light still dim but somehow too bright for his eyes. He didn’t like it. And so he closed his eyes, burying his face in his pillow, pretending that it wasn’t morning yet.
He inhaled deeply the old familiar scents on the pillow. The smells brought a certain peace yet longing to him, making his heart fluttered involuntarily. He sighed. His king size bed was his sanctuary. It never failed to offer him endless tranquility and comfort.
He wanted nothing but the warmth of the bed to engulf his whole being and disappear. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t fall back to sleep anymore because after such a long period of time, finally, he was now fully awake.
He grumbled silently, reluctantly tearing himself from the bed. He squinted, taking in his surrounding, brows furrowed stubbornly on his forehead. He tried to recall the last time he left his room. He shook his head when a memory of crying faces - of families and close friends, during that painful final parting flashed in front of his eyes.
He sighed. He didn’t want to remember after all. Staggering on his feet, he sluggishly made his way to the door.
When he entered the sitting room, he was greeted by the roaring silence of his cold and empty apartment. His heart lurched. Everything was so hard to look at, his very essence seeped into everything in that room, from the sight of the sketchpad to the forlorn fishing rod.
Then, something caught his eyes. The piano, ever loyal, stood waiting beside the close window.
Picking his way through the furniture, he slowly went to the piano and settled before it. He lifted the wooden lid, and ran a finger along one beautiful key. He pressed down, making the piano whispered back sympathetically at him, as if offering him its condolences.
“Play something happy for me.” A soft whisper tickled his ear as streams of memories that they had once had and shared together filled the empty air. He shook his head, and bit his lip, trying to drive the unseen voice away. He felt rebellious; he didn't want to follow the soothing voice that he had loved for all these years. He wanted to play something somber and funereal instead.
But the memories - memories of a familiar smiling face, in which the corners of the owner's eyes will always tilt slightly upward while doing so, kept flashing over and over again in every crook and corner of his mind.
His fingers suspended helplessly above the black and white keys. Everything felt numb.
“You left me.” a silent whisper escaped from his mouth, blurred with a sorrowful sob.
"You left me." he repeated, this time in an accusing tone.
"Y-you p-promised..." he choked, eyes stinging with tears.
“No, please don’t cry.” the voice pleaded brokenly. Something inside him snapped. He gritted his teeth, feeling a sudden anger burnt his longing heart.
He was a mess of angry tears now.
"You left me!" he screamed. “Why?!”
His hands slammed messily on the piano keys producing ugly, loud noise of mixed up key notes that didn't go together. Yet, it cried out all the anguish and loneliness in his heart.
“You’re gone…you promised me you’d stay with me.” he whimpered pathetically.
He lifted his face when he felt burning warmth spread through him like a protective well-known embrace. The sun was already streaming through the window.
“I’ll always be with you.” the whisper promised softly. “Always.”
He blinked once, twice, before he stood and padded over silently to the window. He opened it, letting the morning breeze blew right past him. He breathed in the fresh air deeply, his mind echoed with the pleasant noises of trees rustling, and birds chirping outside of his window.
He wiped the remaining moist off his tear stricken face then slowly placed his hand to his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the faint steady beating of his heart.
At last, he smiled.
“I miss you.” he whispered as the cool morning breeze came over him again.
He received no reply.
~
He was awake on that morning; and on that morning, everything changed.
-END-
Pairing: Ohmiya
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Disclaimer: Never own them, and probably never will.
Summary: He's finally awake.
Notes: It's short and a bit depressing, I think.
He was awake on that morning.
It probably had been a week, or a month, perhaps even a year since the last time he was actually awake - or nearly close in being a functioning adult. He can’t even remember anymore because his hours, his minutes and his seconds had been muddled up into one pile of forgotten mess. Truth was, he had stopped caring a long time ago.
He blinked, eyes staring bleakly at the white-painted walls of his bedroom. It was a moment just before dawn, the light still dim but somehow too bright for his eyes. He didn’t like it. And so he closed his eyes, burying his face in his pillow, pretending that it wasn’t morning yet.
He inhaled deeply the old familiar scents on the pillow. The smells brought a certain peace yet longing to him, making his heart fluttered involuntarily. He sighed. His king size bed was his sanctuary. It never failed to offer him endless tranquility and comfort.
He wanted nothing but the warmth of the bed to engulf his whole being and disappear. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t fall back to sleep anymore because after such a long period of time, finally, he was now fully awake.
He grumbled silently, reluctantly tearing himself from the bed. He squinted, taking in his surrounding, brows furrowed stubbornly on his forehead. He tried to recall the last time he left his room. He shook his head when a memory of crying faces - of families and close friends, during that painful final parting flashed in front of his eyes.
He sighed. He didn’t want to remember after all. Staggering on his feet, he sluggishly made his way to the door.
When he entered the sitting room, he was greeted by the roaring silence of his cold and empty apartment. His heart lurched. Everything was so hard to look at, his very essence seeped into everything in that room, from the sight of the sketchpad to the forlorn fishing rod.
Then, something caught his eyes. The piano, ever loyal, stood waiting beside the close window.
Picking his way through the furniture, he slowly went to the piano and settled before it. He lifted the wooden lid, and ran a finger along one beautiful key. He pressed down, making the piano whispered back sympathetically at him, as if offering him its condolences.
“Play something happy for me.” A soft whisper tickled his ear as streams of memories that they had once had and shared together filled the empty air. He shook his head, and bit his lip, trying to drive the unseen voice away. He felt rebellious; he didn't want to follow the soothing voice that he had loved for all these years. He wanted to play something somber and funereal instead.
But the memories - memories of a familiar smiling face, in which the corners of the owner's eyes will always tilt slightly upward while doing so, kept flashing over and over again in every crook and corner of his mind.
His fingers suspended helplessly above the black and white keys. Everything felt numb.
“You left me.” a silent whisper escaped from his mouth, blurred with a sorrowful sob.
"You left me." he repeated, this time in an accusing tone.
"Y-you p-promised..." he choked, eyes stinging with tears.
“No, please don’t cry.” the voice pleaded brokenly. Something inside him snapped. He gritted his teeth, feeling a sudden anger burnt his longing heart.
He was a mess of angry tears now.
"You left me!" he screamed. “Why?!”
His hands slammed messily on the piano keys producing ugly, loud noise of mixed up key notes that didn't go together. Yet, it cried out all the anguish and loneliness in his heart.
“You’re gone…you promised me you’d stay with me.” he whimpered pathetically.
He lifted his face when he felt burning warmth spread through him like a protective well-known embrace. The sun was already streaming through the window.
“I’ll always be with you.” the whisper promised softly. “Always.”
He blinked once, twice, before he stood and padded over silently to the window. He opened it, letting the morning breeze blew right past him. He breathed in the fresh air deeply, his mind echoed with the pleasant noises of trees rustling, and birds chirping outside of his window.
He wiped the remaining moist off his tear stricken face then slowly placed his hand to his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the faint steady beating of his heart.
At last, he smiled.
“I miss you.” he whispered as the cool morning breeze came over him again.
He received no reply.
~
He was awake on that morning; and on that morning, everything changed.
-END-