Story: Glimpses through the shattered glass at William and Cedrik

Jul 24, 2011 17:34

 Just pieces which need to be archived. 
Originally written for Scope. 
Only the things you have read already, I'm sorry.  Nothing more.

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For some time since Andrew had left him, he was kind of lonely.
William usually keeps his emotions far away from everyone. Keeping every little weakness hiden, he can appear cold. And kind of.. bitchy. It's hard to please him in any way, he's very demanding. But unlike Cedrik, William is very calm. It's almost impossible to make him cry (ever) and it's hard to make him laugh.
And despite all that, he grew to like Cedrik.
He reminds him of Khaitim.

Cedrik spent much time with his after Andrew left. Why not? William was comforting. Even when they didn't talk, which happened often, William only scribbled something in his papers or played, and Cedrik was only present.

As he is playing, his hair hiding his face, falling almost to his knees, on the back down to his waist, Cedrik is listening, watching his fingers move, and he's now not wearing gloves, and Cedrik realizes how pale his hands actually are.
He has long fingers. Unusually long for how short he is.
And in that something-more-than-a-room-but-something-less-than-an-apartment of his, he took off his black coat, and instead of his usual fishnet long-sleeved thing, he's wearing a black shirt, not bothering to button it up.
He doesn't want to disturb him, until he finishes the melody.
As his fingers stop, Cedrik is too close.
So close William can feel the radiant heat of his body, warmer than bodies of other human beings, not like he got to touch them too much.
And the skin of William's neck is cold.

His fingers brush his hair off his neck, revealing the pale skin.
And William does nothing, staring blankly to nowhere in front of him-
Hot hand follows the crook of his neck to his collarbone, leaving a path of warmth.
He doesn't move, closing his eyes, focusing on the touch, cosidering.
And for a little while the hand lets go, only to somehow appear on his waist, lips kissing his neck.
In the dim light of candles, he could just lean back into the touch and enjoy what was Cedrik aiming to do-
without a warning, he stood up.
Taking two steps, the air felt colder again.
He stepped closer to him, he felt it (as if with Cedrik the air moved too, warmed up around him, as when you step closer to a flame) - he turned around to face him.
For a moment they stood there, observing the color of each other's eyes. Emerald and ice.
He shook his head.
"No. Not you."
A flash of disappointment.
"Why."
He sighs.
Too many words...

pieces of the magic world, stories

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