http://clampfix.fanworks.net/tb-fix/dust.txt </head><body><pre>Kill me. Right now. Or at least my stupid muse that decides to wake up whenever it's exam time. *sigh* Alright, de-stress piece from me. Very short, have fun and hopefully don't get (too) depressed. Not sure what I'm aiming for in this, I think I'm just experimenting with wordplay. Feedback is good. Especially for exam-stressed writers ^^ One more final: I would like to extend my thanks to whoever nominated my fics for the CFA-TB/X competition. You guys rock >P * * * * * * * Dust A Sumeragi Subaru piece by Leareth Empty home. Empty flask. Empty heart. Subaru stood in front of the bedroom mirror. He stared with the dull expression of one drugged. His reflection was blurred; there was a lot of dust on the mirror. Most people with their sight restored would smile. Subaru didn't. /Strange,/ he thought distantly. /His eye seems to burn./ Almost lethargically, Subaru reached out and touched the mirror, pressing his palm against the cool glass and feeling grit beneath his skin. He dragged his hand across it, leaving a curved smear. The glass hadn't been cleaned in over a month. The person who lived in this apartment hadn't come back to do so. He never would. /. . . empty home . . ./ On the surface, the apartment seemed normal. Frozen in time, a snapshot of life. There was food in the fridge, a remote control on the sofa's armrest, towels in the bathroom, and clothes in the wardrobe. It was as if the person living here had gone out for the day and the apartment was waiting for his return. Then one would notice the thin layer of dust over everything, and the feeling of staleness permeating through the furniture. That lifelessness had been the first thing that struck Subaru the moment he opened the door, using the key that had appeared next to his pillow the morning of the day the bridge had fallen. It seemed as if that person had always known how that day would end. /. . . empty flask . . ./ Subaru closed his left eye and gazed into the mirror with the other. Other, that was the name for it. Other. Unrelated. Separate. Not his. A gift from a dead man. A pittance of a compensation for his love. Someone up there had a sense of humour. Slowly, he opened his left eye again and stared with both. The gold of the other eye seemed to be the only colour in his face. His own orb had long lost its brilliance for there was no reason for it to shine, not when he had nothing left to live for. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to reach for. Just two completely different roles with completely different duties that he had never asked for or wanted, and certainly didn't care about. He had nothing left for himself. And Subaru didn't care. /. . . empty heart . . ./ There were shadows in the mirror. Subaru turned away and sat on the bed, wanting to hold his head in his hands. Instead, he let himself fall backwards and lay on his back, staring listlessly at the darkened ceiling. The sheets beneath him were clean - too clean. They held no warmth, no scent. Nothing but dust. What was that saying? Ashes to ashes, dust to . . . Cold. Subaru shifted to lay his head on the pillow. He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to find a trace of something in the place where that other person had slept. Perhaps there would be cigarettes, or flowers, or . . . There was nothing. Subaru curled around the pillow into a tight ball, burying his face in the scentless softness. He wanted to cry. He couldn't. ~owari~</pre><p><a href="./">Back</a></p><p><a href=http://www.dreamhost.com/donate.cgi?id=216><img border=0 alt="Donate towards our web hosting bill!" src=https://secure.newdream.net/donate1.gif></a></p></body></html>