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Title: Painted Secrets
Author: FireBringer
Genre: Tragedy/Romance/song fic
Summery: Sugar and lemons under a crisp white sheet, and well-kept secrets of golden bows and silver paper. Enter the world of a boy, a girl, and their world where everything is meant to be broken.
Cos I know that you feel me somehow
You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be
And I don’t want to go home right now
Why didn’t they realise it sooner? Why didn’t they see through her masks? Why couldn’t they, the closest to her, have torn the seams of her façade? It never occurred to them that her fevers were suddenly becoming more common, her colds more extreme, her faints longer in the oblivion…
He, most of all, should have known. He who had known her as if she were simply another part of him. They were two pieces of the puzzle, and he should have known. Should have known, damn it!
He had…seen something. Once. A long time ago. He’d noticed the weariness of her movements, the trembling of her hands as she pressed a cloth to her mouth and coughed, her slender body shuddering with every gasped breath. He’d worried, told her to rest, to leave it…but then, she was always so passionate. Tasted of sugar and lemons and soft caresses under a crisp blanket of snow white. So lovely…
Afterwards, she would curl by his side, head nestled perfectly under his chin, arm clutching around his chest as if he were her link to the earth. As if, if she let go, she would drift away and be apart of the stars once more, a supernatural being. So beautiful, so soft and loving, His. All His.
He’d never given that weakening grasp any thought before. Never wondered why she seemed so strong in the day, but then so…frail. So broken, just for that little while in his arms. So lost.
He’d been tempted, once or twice, to ask her what was working in that little mind of hers. Ask her why. Simply why. But he was no good with words, only actions. Aidan was the one with the words and the compliments and the poetry. And so he just held her a little tighter, kissed her a little bit more, tried to relay to her through touch how much she meant to him. How much he needed her.
He used to think that if she didn’t know that, then she’d leave. To him, she’d always been untouchable. Untainted. Just a being of utter perfection. To him, she defined the meaning of love.
The meaning of life.
And all I can breathe is your life
And sooner of later its over
I just don’t want to miss you tonight
It had never been just about bodies though. Not just about release from the world, or freedom to feel. It was about each other and the need and the want and the brief reprieve from misery. Overall, it had been theirs. Something for them to share and love and keep, held close in their hearts, a well-kept secret of golden bows and silver paper.
He had loved her, though. Never spoken, always twisted on his tongue until they burned and burned, begging for release but…he didn’t do ‘mushy moments’.
He wished now that he had.
Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
He should have known that they had another, crueller, agenda.
She’d wished for sunshine on them all, and only the purest sun could come after her rain. She’d loved them, given even Alex something to live for, the man who didn’t even need to transform into his hawk form to be a predator. Had wrapped them in cotton wool and washed dirt out of old wounds, allowed them Time to heal. And all the while, They watched and waited, as her love grew and the Flock’s did too. But her love for them all had come at a price.
It seemed so cliché, thinking about it. Of course, everything came at a price nowadays. Everything. Even something so simple as normality had a price higher than anyone could expect.
He’d never found out how she managed it. When he’d asked, in that last moment that should have been spent loving her not shouting, she’d only smiled. Mysterious and happy, loving that it had worked, even as she left thinking of them and not her own pain. The others –Aidan, Will, even Benji – had wanted to continue looking. Searching. Spent hours at Their door and demanded, screamed, threatened to be let in. As if They had the cure for death. Maybe there was someway to reverse it? Bring her back? Even if they had to be under Their rule again. They needed her. Wanted her. Loved her. She couldn’t just be gone, as if snow melted over night. It wasn’t fair, they wailed. Not…not just.
But he did not follow. He let her keep her secrets.
She deserved them.
He remembered her eyes, bright blue contrasting so badly with his reddish brown, so grey when sad, ocean green when thoughtful. He remembered her hands, her touch, feathery kisses that sent shivers down to the tips of his toes. They felt almost like dreams, wishes that swept across his skin and spun up into the sky: wish granted. He remembered her hair, a curtain of spilt ink, midnight blue in bright sunlight, spilling over his chest, his legs, his arms, slipping through his hands like water. Cascading down her back and rustling against that soft, milky skin.
He remembered her smile, so soft and knowing as They stared out the window and coldly told the Flock that she was dieing. Her hands as they took his quietly and extinguished his flame of anger with a single breath. Her acceptance that only made the Flock’s indignation and horror more severe.
He remembered…the Flock’s faces as they took in the truth. Their blank, bewildered features. Their wide eyes. Surely this must be a joke? Will, really, this isn’t funny. Aidan, stop it. Stop it! Leo, its not true right? Right?! Alex’s silent anger, so much more fierce than his violence, his demand to see her. His screams and raised hands. Her kiss.
It all seemed so long ago. So…so long ago…
A lifetime. An eternity in which he should be with her. In which he should have been free to love her.
Oh, Leo…
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feel like the movies
And you bleed just to know you’re alive
The echoes of footsteps and yells, calls for him, calls for her, arms and begging hands – let go, Leo, she’s gone, let go now…– and then only the silence of After.
He’d always remember the blood, a line of it smudged down her cheek and onto his shirt, speckles, as if it were just paint. Just paint. He’d tried to wash it off, but the stain always seemed to be there. Haunting him. Watching him. A sick part of him wanted it that way, this last part of her that only he had rights to. But that was just sick, right? Just grief. It wore off after a while and the shirt disappeared, unable to allow eyes to see that dull brown, unable to cause anymore tears. And he let it disappear, because wasn’t that what everything did? Even his memories of her were disappearing. He couldn’t truly feel her touch anymore.
Fear always used to lead him to fighting. Fear would always force him to blame it on Aidan, to take it out on his enemy and remember how small he really was in comparison to the Flock’s second-in-command. But this fear…this fear dug deep and festered. Turned him in on himself. He had always thought that if you wanted something, you fought for it. And that was what he did. He fought long and hard, made himself worthy, and in the end he got her. He really was important, treasured, loved.
But he had fought and lost, this time. Had fought, and the thing he had most cherished was taken away. Lost to oblivion, a place where he couldn’t follow. And if things were taken away, then what was the point in fighting for them if you only lost them in the end? Why even live?
And slowly…slowly…he began to be lost a little bit too.
Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am
He suddenly remembered her touch more vividly than ever; her smile and eyes, her strength and voice and kisses and the honey sweetness that trickled down his throat from her tongue and filled him with light. He glowed, clutching at her, finally able to touch all of her without fear of transforming into his sparrow form. He remembered her laugh and her words and dreams and thoughts and needs and…and he remembered her moans most of all. That delicious caress of his name that intoxicated him.
For the first time since she’d left, he felt whole again. Stronger. Tougher. As if he could take on the world and win without breaking a sweat. He let the words and wishes mix with his touch, forming a lethal drug of need and want and love – I love you – and felt her whispered reply across her skin, her feather kisses, her smile, herself. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go, happy that she was home, thankful that everything was back to normal…
He knew, of course. But even he had to live in a dream world sometimes. Had to let his most needed desires wash away the pain and anger nestling inside and once again be free. Truly free. He felt the tears trickle down his skin and onto hers, lent into her hands as she softly tried to brush them away. He felt her understanding.
Please, don’t leave me.
Oh, Leo…
And, strangely, that was all he needed.
Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am.