D.Gray-man fanfiction. Lavi/Neah.
Seventh day's prompt is Books.
This is a snippet set in the same universe as Stranger on the Shore.
Somber layer of thick grey clouds had hovered above the city all day, and when night came, the condensed clouds let up drifts of powdery snow.
Lavi tracked the slow increasing layer of snow on the outer part of the window sill as he sat on the chair by the window. The chill had seeped in through the thin wall of the shack.
He used to hate snowy night, the silence of it, of how it drowned out sounds like black holes, gobling up the space around them. On nights like these, he distracted himself with books, seeking comfort by immersing himself in dead people's thoughts -- given life again in yellowed pages and faded ink blots.
Some nights, Panda played a game with him. He would recite the entirety of a book, each line, and each precise word. Lavi rarely made mistakes. He had his memory to his name if nothing else. Photographic memory, Panda said, once, it certainly gives you advantage, but doesn't make you smart. Don't slack off!
"It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the Moon," he whispered.
"What is it?" came a voice from the bed. Walker's.
Lavi turned his head to look at him, a lump under the cover in the dark of their shared lodging. "I'm sorry to wake you," he said.
"You don't," Walker's reply was faint, mumbled by his blanket. "It's cold."
"Ah, yeah, it's snowing," Lavi said. He got up to check on the fireplace, throwing more logs into the heap already inside, disturbing the careful structure he made earlier that day. He stayed a moment to make sure they caught fire.
The room was brighter and warmer when they did.
"Thanks," Walker said.
Lavi walked to his own bed and sat. He saw Walker shift under the blanket. "It's Galileo Galilei," he told Walker, answering his earlier question.
"The mad scientist?" Walker snorted.
Lavi nodded, then remember that Walker couldn't see him, wrapped like a breakfast burrito as he was. "Yes," he said. "Although, I'd prefer to say that he's idealistic rather than mad."
"And executed because of it," Walker replied.
"You know your history," Lavi observed.
"Oh please, one doesn't have to be a Bookman to learn," Walker said, then added, "I used to like Ovid."
Lavi didn't care much for poetry, didn't see the point of it. "Metamorphoses?"
"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit," Walker said.
"Sanctius his animal mentisque capacius altae, deerat adhuc et quod dominari in cetera posset: Natus homo est," Lavi recited.
A snort. "Show off."
"I've read it, once," Lavi said. "I thought it was boring."
Lavi saw the pillow coming his way. He didn't bother to dodge.
"Go to sleep, smart-ass," Walker chided him.
Lavi smiled despite himself.
This is a snippet set in the same universe as Stranger on the Shore.
Somber layer of thick grey clouds had hovered above the city all day, and when night came, the condensed clouds let up drifts of powdery snow.
Lavi tracked the slow increasing layer of snow on the outer part of the window sill as he sat on the chair by the window. The chill had seeped in through the thin wall of the shack.
He used to hate snowy night, the silence of it, of how it drowned out sounds like black holes, gobling up the space around them. On nights like these, he distracted himself with books, seeking comfort by immersing himself in dead people's thoughts -- given life again in yellowed pages and faded ink blots.
Some nights, Panda played a game with him. He would recite the entirety of a book, each line, and each precise word. Lavi rarely made mistakes. He had his memory to his name if nothing else. Photographic memory, Panda said, once, it certainly gives you advantage, but doesn't make you smart. Don't slack off!
"It is a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the Moon," he whispered.
"What is it?" came a voice from the bed. Walker's.
Lavi turned his head to look at him, a lump under the cover in the dark of their shared lodging. "I'm sorry to wake you," he said.
"You don't," Walker's reply was faint, mumbled by his blanket. "It's cold."
"Ah, yeah, it's snowing," Lavi said. He got up to check on the fireplace, throwing more logs into the heap already inside, disturbing the careful structure he made earlier that day. He stayed a moment to make sure they caught fire.
The room was brighter and warmer when they did.
"Thanks," Walker said.
Lavi walked to his own bed and sat. He saw Walker shift under the blanket. "It's Galileo Galilei," he told Walker, answering his earlier question.
"The mad scientist?" Walker snorted.
Lavi nodded, then remember that Walker couldn't see him, wrapped like a breakfast burrito as he was. "Yes," he said. "Although, I'd prefer to say that he's idealistic rather than mad."
"And executed because of it," Walker replied.
"You know your history," Lavi observed.
"Oh please, one doesn't have to be a Bookman to learn," Walker said, then added, "I used to like Ovid."
Lavi didn't care much for poetry, didn't see the point of it. "Metamorphoses?"
"Omnia mutantur, nihil interit," Walker said.
"Sanctius his animal mentisque capacius altae, deerat adhuc et quod dominari in cetera posset: Natus homo est," Lavi recited.
A snort. "Show off."
"I've read it, once," Lavi said. "I thought it was boring."
Lavi saw the pillow coming his way. He didn't bother to dodge.
"Go to sleep, smart-ass," Walker chided him.
Lavi smiled despite himself.