Raiting; orange
Genre; slash, yaoi
Pairing: Francis x Ethienne
Nb : this is the song referenced in the chapter
Chapter 1
Francis - I'm ready, I'm fine.
There are things about you that I never get used.
One of these, for example, is your sense of pathological disorder, I can not explain why everything is a hymn to chaos, in our room.
I always blamed it to your artistic soul, but in fact I think yours is just laziness, or perhaps carelessness. You forget things easily.
So I'm sitting on the bed looking at the jeans that you left on the ground, dropped his shirt on the wardrobe door, and the shoes left under the drawers. There is still a towel in your lap, you've had a shower yesterday and I even went to him to fix it.
Sometimes it seems to me to look after a child. And deep down you are, God You just twenty years.
But I am dangerously close to thirty, and I do not like even a little '- even if you continue to spoil me and fill me with compliments.
It seems like every year is a constraint in addition: dramatically increases the sense of suffocation.
In those moments I think to tie the knot, what I do every morning.
It 's a stupid thing, after all: a series of repetitive gestures and automatic and a tight end around his neck, as a noose. But then you're always in the evening to loosen.
It 's the first thing you do when I get home - you get close, give me a kiss, and melt all the nodes.
If I were to describe our relationship in some way, Ethienne, I would use these exact words, loosen the knots. I still can not comprehend the patience with which you took care of me, the love with which you stay beside me. The visceral way you walked into me.
And to think of it all my non - habits, all of your imbalances are basically the thing that holds us together. The lifeblood of our relationship.
- Love, not that you give me a ride eh?
you look out your door and interrupt my every thought, in the usual way impetuous and lacking in manners. But the joy you put in the little things makes it hard not to forgive me at all times, even the most stupid.
Smiling so it's a natural reflex. You're standing there with a pair of jeans and a shirt with short sleeves clear, regardless of the cold, your hair is uncombed and the line of the north around the mouth.
The line of the north.
Like the first time I kissed you - the first time I heard the size of your lips cracked on impact with the mine.
- You're late again, eh? - The application takes care of itself, without any ridicule. It 's a simple fact of habit, to which he answers with a tongue.
- not my fault! And 'the clock in the kitchen is ten minutes back.
- There you have it made, Ethienne. Because of reverse psychology, right? If you see the clock that goes backwards, you do not know what is the real time and you have to run. - I find myself having to explain. I was sure you would have forgotten, but you would not listen to me.
you give yourself a pat on the forehead, as if to kill a thought too much, and I just want to hug you. Just like that
Just because you're you, because you have rough lips. Let the clothes on the floor. Move the clock and then forget it.
A combination of improbability.
Gripping your pile of bones against my chest, and breathe the smell of your hair.
I can feel your heart beat so. All my life running silent and mechanics under the hood of skin, dancing in the blood.
- What is it morning? Excess teneritudine morning?
Teneritudine is the name you gave to our every impulse of affection, and I let you choose you, because basically I are fine. I love to hear you say - the way that your tongue to push against you on the round r.
- Mmm, maybe.
I look with your eyes full of questions, and I'd love to know what goes through your head now, you have that expression indecipherable saturated with nostalgia every time you pierce your face. And it is useless to ask " you?" Why can not reply to these questions.
You have a heart that is been kicked too many times and I find it hard, give yourself to someone.
But I keep waiting, because thou hast healed me and I will heal you. And I do not care how long it will take.
- Come on, come on who else comes even later - I force myself to say. I open my arms and I let you fly.
You thank me with a smile and hide in the leather jacket. My.
But I squeeze in a raincoat I really like a perfect English gentlemen, you gave me you, saying, it was perfect. And I learned to really make it perfect to use as a second skin.
We go in September as car fleeing from the rain, the comfort of the seats allows us to catch our breath for a moment.
- Damn that time! And we are not even in October! - You complain, shaking his head. But I am concerned because the leather jacket will not save you from some disease, you would not even put on a sweater, and already I see you in bed with fever.
- You've covered enough.
You rolled his eyes, annoyed. I know it will bother my endless nagging, but I do not know how to explain that everything moves in light of the fact that I love you.
You lean forward to avoid any kind of reply, fiddling with the radio channel hopping channel disturbed by the buzzing of the stations in this weather does not want to learn to find peace.
And then comes a song. Any. We exchange a quick glance, while the notes in the air own plan.
around us disappears and the machine seems to go back over time, any day of three years ago.
Ethienne cursed book of geometry.
Not only could not concentrate, but he could not even understand any of what was written. Seemed to him a set of words and formulas Ostrogothic stupid - put there at random letters to make his life difficult.
He muttered a few curses in French tight, with one click away from your desk. Do not take it anymore from nervous.
Just days earlier he had quarreled with Frank, and his words kept bouncing horribly on his head, spreading echoes redundant.
Yet it had seemed so perfect, a week before.
Francis went to him and kissed him. He had a strong close, running his hands through his hair, running along the spine. The world had seemed still and full of perfect balance.
But two days time, and Francis was again closed in on itself, hiding behind some kind of alibi. He told Ethienne of being wrong, it was not fair delude ourselves.
that he was not able to love anyone.
Ethienne, then, had only wanted him to swallow all his words. Cut with violence on his chest, burning in the back. Make him feel the exact same pain he felt.
What was the fight for someone who refused to heal?
rested an elbow on the wood, using his hand to support the front. He was tired, burning eyes.
Perhaps he had to call Theo, or Lele. Hear what they had to advise them, but did not feel, to break with his problems in the bubble of happiness that friends were painstakingly rebuilt. Talking with others was impractical, that there was a lot of excitement in the air, that every word would have been too much.
sighed, turning over a pencil in hand.
If only it had been good at writing - if he had been able to put his feelings on paper. Maybe he could have said all over that block that prevented him from comment.
was going to seriously consider the idea when the phone vibrated, detaching it from his thoughts.
The sachet of yellow flashing SMS just above the words "Francis."
Ethienne thought for a moment to ignore the text messages and turn off the phone, but he did not and instead opened the message, focusing on the few words that were written.
You can come to me? I need to talk.
- cheek! - Muttered the boy, throwing a mobile phone near the pen.
is also expected that he would get up? That would run like a madman for half of Rome, took the subway, got on the bus and would precipitate in his house and knocked and heard her words merciless?
The cell phone vibrated again, earning glares from Ethienne.
Part of him was determined to not want to read the message, but it was too much in the minority than the rest.
I know I'm asking much, but I need you to come here. I would be me, but I can not move what I need.
Ethienne raised an eyebrow, silently considering the idea that Francis was made of crack. But puffing, he answered with a curt Ok.
left the house only after you have left a note to Anna, where the left word where he was going and what he thought of staying out. Would return soon, according to his intentions.
And then he went out, giving himself to traverse the city.
He liked to live in Rome. Although it was chaotic, it was also a rather picturesque city, rich in history. There was a certain poetry in the way they moved the people, one in which directional things: he had a different flavor.
Arriving at the home of Francis demanded a lot 'of time, but it passed quickly enough with the headphones of' I-Pod in the ears, between subway and buses.
At your destination, Ethienne paused to wonder if he was doing the right thing.
House Francis had always made a strange awe, it was a big house and cold, all in shades of gray and white. Ordered to capacity, full of dust in some places. Was a little 'soul of the sleeping boy.
However, the younger one was brave. That is a big sigh and said with a solemn air drama, he rang the bell.
No one answered; automatic tripping of the door caught him by surprise.
He climbed the stairs in a hurry, running near the wrought iron railing careful not to fall; when he arrived at the front door of the apartment there was not anybody yet.
Ethienne he was afraid.
Strange to say, but he was really scared, the last time he found himself in a situation like that, Jared was waiting for him with a crowbar with a group of friends homophobic.
There was something in the door in the dark and in all that silence that reminded him of all the damn situation.
And if Francis had expected the other side ready to hurt him?
If he wanted to hurt him as he had Jared, or worse?
In a quick instant, Ethienne wondered if Francis could be like David. What would have happened if he had touched the same fate as Lele?
But then a little voice inside my head suggested that Francis was not so.
It was not really able to hurt a person - at least not voluntarily.
He pushed the door, leaning inside. There was a dim light coming from the living room.
Ethienne approached cautiously, his heart pounding in my chest.
- Francis? - Called, feeling the excitement grow.
- I'm here! - Replied a voice, exactly where it came from the light.
The boy grew up, stopping on the threshold of the room.
There was something different about it all. Less dust. More color.
There was Francis supported the table - a black turtleneck that hugged her body and a pair of jeans cut elegant. Her feet were bare.
was beautiful. More than usual.
of an amazing beauty, almost dramatic. The light touched his face as the brush strokes of an artist expert, making his eyes more alive, more harmonious than usual its proportions.
He stood with his arms crossed and smiling looking at it.
That smile made her stomach tighten with Ethienne, who want more hands to remove the last two days and return to the warmth of her room, when they had kissed.
still wanted to feel the heat of his body, the rounded shape of his bones press against her belly, she wanted to get close to him and sank a hand through his hair, tirarglieli, and kiss him without letting either of breathe.
wanted him to die.
- I thought to write. Or talk to you, anyway. - Francis began, breaking the silence filled the huge room.
just fell off the table, dissolving the web of arms.
- ... But I have to do something practical for me to forgive. True. So I thought of calling you here and tell you all what I feel in a way that seems more appropriate.
He came up to him, raising a hand to stroke his face. Ethienne blushed, feeling his fingertips by Francis, who was sinking into her cheeks. Were cold.
raised a hand to trap her, and remained so for a while, to look dazed.
Then Francis took his hand and gently over them.
The smallest was surprised a moment, then turned to look at what the other combination. She saw him from behind, as he shook the white blanket covering what appeared to be a piano, and then, with a single gesture, he pulled away.
The room was filled with dust, with the smell of life for so many years ago.
Ethienne The life of Francis, who did not know, his past, the dance of dust brought back memories that do not belong to him, but the other had still decided to give him.
She watched him sit on a stool and gently lift the keyboard cover.
He pushed a button white, and a note shook violently in the air.
- It 's still in tune. - Francesco muttered with a smile. Then she turned to him:
- Come close to me - he said. Ethienne, noise, obeyed stand behind him.
not sat down, but he merely puts his hand on his shoulder. Francis kissed his fingers, before starting to play.
was a song that the boy was sure to know French, but the title eluded him at the moment.
It seemed extraordinary that a play was, however, Francis was surprisingly good.
The biggest shock, however, was his voice as he sang.
His voice was soft, scratching in the right places, the tone was low, it came to the piano. Ethienne closed his eyes, and it seemed that the voice to lead him along a curve to go very carefully.
Eppure, in qualche modo, sapeva che ne sarebbe uscito salvo.
I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am taffy stuck and tongue tied
Stutter shook and uptight
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am fine
I am covered in skin
No one gets to come in
Pull me out from inside
I am folded and unfolded and unfolding
I am colorblind
Coffee black and egg white
Pull me out from inside
I am ready
I am end
- It was Colorblind, Counting Crows!
The voice of the obnoxious reporter on the radio both us back to reality. I can see you in passing, with one eye, while you shake your shoulders shake off the memories.
But do not turn out well, because it resists a smile on your face - defying time and distance.
The memory of that day in my house is still too vivid.
Dust, piano. Your hand on my shoulder. And the way I have embraced later, clinging to me like you do with the dreams or hopes.
never let go of all these fragments of us.
But we got the tempo of a song and you're already at the school. Now live in the midst of books, games with the kids all the time - maybe that's why your soul is still pure and clear so heartbreaking.
systems better than you can tighten the jacket around your neck, your hands are trying to tighten and give you a defense against the outside world.
But not enough, we both know.
You lean towards me demanding a kiss with your usual smile.
- 'Can you pass me to take next? - You ask me, with that your face smart.
- I do not know. Today is Thursday, which means that the boss holds the office until at least five.
Puffs, and I know you'd be cursing my head but you do not, because you can never take it with anyone.
So I make a promise indirect, taking off the scarf of cloth and tying it around your neck. It 's my way to protect yourself, to keep you warm.
look at me eyes wide and gave me another kiss on his lips, which I take as if it were nectar.
You do not know how much life from me.
- If you do not see you later see you tonight! - Murmur, before escaping out of the car.
Risks almost falling, in the heat, but not you do it and laugh. And as you turn to shut the door, I lose a:
- I love you!
said so in passing. And there's no comparison, no poetry, nothing that could tell your expression in this moment - all the adjectives in the world could not fill the dimple that comes from your grateful smile.
- Me too! - I scream back, before fleeing.
're late and beat the time, even this morning.
But I do not care that time, standing by until the last moment when you leave and enter the door of the school.
A frail, thin figure dressed in black with a red scarf around his neck.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution - Noncommercial - No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License .
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