Fic: It Echoes in Silence
For coffeecommunity who prompted "this love is difficult, but it's real."
It Echoes in Silence
Demi/Selena - Disney RPF
PG | 842 Words
The moon hung large in the sky, waiting for their next move. Silver light filtered in through the unshaded window and bathed them in an eerie glow. They lay in bed, side by side and almost touching. The house had gone so quiet in these early hours of the morning, that they could almost believe they were the last people left in the world. Sometimes, it felt that way. (Later, much later, they will come back to this night and it's revelations and consider it the night that started it all.) Shadows crept up the wall and licked at the ceiling, standing witness in the quiet.
Demi rolled onto her stomach and stretched; toes and fingers pointed, her limbs extending like a cat's. Next to her, there's a disruption of breath and Demi stills. Her face is pressed against the cool side of a pillow, away and at a wall.
“You sleeping?”
“No, not really,” Demi murmurs, her words getting caught in the layers of cotton and down. She is awake. She's exhausted, but restless despite herself. She couldn't sleep if she tried. Her eyes are closed, but she can see it just as well when Selena turns on her side and scoots closer.
“Thinking?” Selena asks. Demi can hear the sleep in her voice, like Selena could drift off any second.
“Yes,” Demi answers. (She is always thinking.) “Yeah.”
“What about?” Selena's voice is closer now, like she's bent her head to share Demi's pillow.
“Just.” Demi sighs and grips the corner of the sheet. “Life.”
“Life is a big thing.”
Demi doesn't say anything to that. She ruminates on the truth of Selena's statement. Life is a big thing. One look to the sky outside that window reminds her how big. She is little else than a drop in an ocean. She lets things be bigger than they should, mean more than they do. She puts obstacles in her own way that don't need to be there, and she rankles when she has to struggle over them. She's self-aggrandizing at best, masochistic at worst. Maybe she's not as important as she thinks she is.
“You ever think about us, Sel?”
Selena doesn't answer for a very long time. Demi thinks maybe she actually has fallen asleep. Selena responds in a huff of breath, a flurry of truth: “Sure.”
“And what do you think?” Demi wants to know, she needs to.
“Mostly,” Selena starts. “I think it could be good. I think it could be really good.”
“You think about it a lot?” Demi presses; in the darkness, she is free to be indulged.
“More than I used to.” That tells Demi nothing (nothing and everything).
Demi quiets then and the room fills with the sound of slow breathing. Demi concentrates and tries to match her exhalations to Selena's, in and out. Then Selena's hand glides across that minute expanse and her fist settles between Demi's shoulder blades, knuckles ghosting over spine.
“We'd be happy, wouldn't we?” Demi begs of no one. She isn't even sure Selena could hear her, her voice is so small. (But it's no surprise that she can; Selena had always understood her best.)
“I like to think so.” Selena's hand is still circling her back gently. It's making sleep seem less and less impossible.
“Would it be okay-” Demi stops short to suppress the bark of embarrassed laughter that's climbing her throat. It sounds more needy out loud than it did in her head. “Could I hold you?”
Selena's hand lands in the small of Demi's back, palm flat. Her fingers curl and apply the smallest pressure at Demi's hip; beckoning wordlessly. Demi rises up on her elbows and turns to press herself into the open circle of Selena's arms. (What she really meant was, Can you hold me?) Selena wraps her up in a tangle of arms and legs and Demi tucks her head in the crook of Selena's shoulder. The closeness only reminds her that aching loneliness is never far behind. It scares her, knowing what lies ahead. Demi remembers fear. It comes five-foot tall and looks like her best friend.
“You ever get scared?” Demi wonders. She lifts a hand to where Selena's heart is racing, caged inside her, and feels that thump-thump.
“Sometimes.” Selena turns her head and her chin collides with the bridge of Demi's nose. Her lips meet Demi's brow and press softly; once, twice. “Because it's so hard. I wish it wasn't so hard. I wish it was different.” (More than that, though, Demi wishes it could be.)
Demi tips her head back and tried to find Selena's eyes in the near-black of the night. When she does, she implores softly, “What would you do if it were different?”
“Just...” Under the covers, Selena's hand finds hers. “Just love you, I guess.”
Demi lays her head back down and settles against Selena. She closes her eyes and eases into sleep. When she dreams, it's of a better world; one where they are happy and free.
It Echoes in Silence
Demi/Selena - Disney RPF
PG | 842 Words
The moon hung large in the sky, waiting for their next move. Silver light filtered in through the unshaded window and bathed them in an eerie glow. They lay in bed, side by side and almost touching. The house had gone so quiet in these early hours of the morning, that they could almost believe they were the last people left in the world. Sometimes, it felt that way. (Later, much later, they will come back to this night and it's revelations and consider it the night that started it all.) Shadows crept up the wall and licked at the ceiling, standing witness in the quiet.
Demi rolled onto her stomach and stretched; toes and fingers pointed, her limbs extending like a cat's. Next to her, there's a disruption of breath and Demi stills. Her face is pressed against the cool side of a pillow, away and at a wall.
“You sleeping?”
“No, not really,” Demi murmurs, her words getting caught in the layers of cotton and down. She is awake. She's exhausted, but restless despite herself. She couldn't sleep if she tried. Her eyes are closed, but she can see it just as well when Selena turns on her side and scoots closer.
“Thinking?” Selena asks. Demi can hear the sleep in her voice, like Selena could drift off any second.
“Yes,” Demi answers. (She is always thinking.) “Yeah.”
“What about?” Selena's voice is closer now, like she's bent her head to share Demi's pillow.
“Just.” Demi sighs and grips the corner of the sheet. “Life.”
“Life is a big thing.”
Demi doesn't say anything to that. She ruminates on the truth of Selena's statement. Life is a big thing. One look to the sky outside that window reminds her how big. She is little else than a drop in an ocean. She lets things be bigger than they should, mean more than they do. She puts obstacles in her own way that don't need to be there, and she rankles when she has to struggle over them. She's self-aggrandizing at best, masochistic at worst. Maybe she's not as important as she thinks she is.
“You ever think about us, Sel?”
Selena doesn't answer for a very long time. Demi thinks maybe she actually has fallen asleep. Selena responds in a huff of breath, a flurry of truth: “Sure.”
“And what do you think?” Demi wants to know, she needs to.
“Mostly,” Selena starts. “I think it could be good. I think it could be really good.”
“You think about it a lot?” Demi presses; in the darkness, she is free to be indulged.
“More than I used to.” That tells Demi nothing (nothing and everything).
Demi quiets then and the room fills with the sound of slow breathing. Demi concentrates and tries to match her exhalations to Selena's, in and out. Then Selena's hand glides across that minute expanse and her fist settles between Demi's shoulder blades, knuckles ghosting over spine.
“We'd be happy, wouldn't we?” Demi begs of no one. She isn't even sure Selena could hear her, her voice is so small. (But it's no surprise that she can; Selena had always understood her best.)
“I like to think so.” Selena's hand is still circling her back gently. It's making sleep seem less and less impossible.
“Would it be okay-” Demi stops short to suppress the bark of embarrassed laughter that's climbing her throat. It sounds more needy out loud than it did in her head. “Could I hold you?”
Selena's hand lands in the small of Demi's back, palm flat. Her fingers curl and apply the smallest pressure at Demi's hip; beckoning wordlessly. Demi rises up on her elbows and turns to press herself into the open circle of Selena's arms. (What she really meant was, Can you hold me?) Selena wraps her up in a tangle of arms and legs and Demi tucks her head in the crook of Selena's shoulder. The closeness only reminds her that aching loneliness is never far behind. It scares her, knowing what lies ahead. Demi remembers fear. It comes five-foot tall and looks like her best friend.
“You ever get scared?” Demi wonders. She lifts a hand to where Selena's heart is racing, caged inside her, and feels that thump-thump.
“Sometimes.” Selena turns her head and her chin collides with the bridge of Demi's nose. Her lips meet Demi's brow and press softly; once, twice. “Because it's so hard. I wish it wasn't so hard. I wish it was different.” (More than that, though, Demi wishes it could be.)
Demi tips her head back and tried to find Selena's eyes in the near-black of the night. When she does, she implores softly, “What would you do if it were different?”
“Just...” Under the covers, Selena's hand finds hers. “Just love you, I guess.”
Demi lays her head back down and settles against Selena. She closes her eyes and eases into sleep. When she dreams, it's of a better world; one where they are happy and free.