Friday, August 27, 2010

How To Freeze Carrot Juice

Photographs, chapter 3.

Raiting : Red

Genre: Slash, yoai

Pairing: Francis x Ethienne

Nb / /

A Leonardo will not see ever the dawn of the twenty years.

And Alessio, Vito - all those who took away the street life.

Chapter 3

Francis - Guilty of acquiescence

The night he died Eleanor was at home, sitting on the bed with a cup of cold milk in my hands.

I was strangely quiet and lightweight - one of those rare and perfect moments where you think that every piece of the world is in the right place. I had confidence in life, in destiny and I knew that our quarrel became just the past and that we would go forward.

Eleonora But that night she died.

I wonder if she was afraid, as he died. If it is realized in some way.

What did you feel?

He felt the blood in your mouth? The smell of asphalt iron? His temples throbbed?

Maybe it was his body as he died. I wonder if it is passed in front of all my life like a movie - if the iris is dilated, leaving room for all the fragments, and dreams, the nights camping out in the summers with his feet outside AMACI.

I wonder if her lips felt the aftermath of the kiss, even if the skin has felt the caress of love. I wonder if it was bad, if you felt pain or if it was just quiet, but his bones would stop to hold it up and sank down, cutting internal organs.

There are days, love, in which she seems to still be here.

Days when I feel like I still live in that atmosphere and subdued light following the death of a loved one and you stand there, hoping in God, in ghosts and in spirits.

Close your eyes and you strive to feel in every way a distant call, a pat on the shoulder, a faint whisper to your ear. But it happens.

Stay in your room, you and your pain.

violent and I feel like a sewing clothes that will pierce the lungs of millions and millions of times, slaughter, blood fills you and you would just vomit it on, kick off the knot you feel in the throat.

And cry, love.

cry. Cry. Cry.

Until more breaths, and do not listen, do not scream, does not tremble ... until the power plant destroys everything else. Cry, love.

I have not yet learned to do it, not even with you I hold your hand in front of the stone is cold, and a colorful flower on the support of Eleanor smile faded.

She looks at me from the picture with her lively eyes and blond hair that stinging red cheeks, who knows what day it was, that when he took that picture.

The yellow flower stands with violence in my field of vision blocked by gray - like your scarf this morning.

And I think that my life is this. An explosion of unlikely colors, moments.

hold my hand and crying her nails into the veins of my life trying to stop the flow that carries the memories directly to the head.

not feel guilty, you told me once. You're not .

But yes I am, my love. I'm guilty. And here we are all guilty.

Why the big city basically no different from the country, and that night Eleanor ran away to escape my harsh judgments and to meet others.

We are all guilty of judging.

There is always someone who can not make it, who can not resist, or someone who throws that shifts the transmission into fifth on a dangerous curve. There are only rubble and charred bodies, clothes torn and faces unrecognizable. There remains the sense of non - life.

- Love ...

Your whisper tear over time, and there you are.

God Ethienne. I have seen God

I saw God and told me that life is a set of imbalances that we can not understand. I saw God and I understand that Nietzsche was right, he died too long ago.

I saw God and I understand that there is nothing that can save us.

And that's why I'll protect you from the world and myself.

Infilzami, life thrust me through therewith the back with the needles and let my body deflates of all excess and pain. But nothing comes to you from what I do, Ethienne.

I try to smile, and suddenly everything comes back alive and real.

- Yes, sorry. I know we're late.

But you shake your head, and I'm afraid that you've seen the chaos inside of me. And smiling, put his hand on his heart, his fingers clawing at the fabric to keep her from running away.

- I'm here, remember?

You are here, as always. Suspended between beats and the other, irregular frequencies in the soul.

- Not ...

- I need not tell you anything. We can be silent, if you want.

grateful I agree, we have all night to laugh and have fun, Theo and Lele have prepared not know what. Now I can walk, really.

With his head flushed in the midst of the angels of stone and their hands folded, while the wind blows out the flames of the candles just shaking.

walk for a while 'before to reach the gate.

I fear, love. So afraid that vibrates in the soul - I am not as brave as you, you know. I'm afraid of life and its extreme chaos of improbability, I'm afraid that you will go running away and you will only oblique shadow laid on the ground.

But I can not tell you to, you know? I can not talk about it, to pull everything out. I should have learned, but my peace of mind fluctuates so scary sometimes.

And I know you know it the way you look at me.

- Guido me, ok? - Suggest a smile, coming into the car and turning the keys on the dial. Sitting next to you I leave you the possibility to drive my life wherever you like, but please take me away from here.

- Remember that the change is not the enemy, Eth. - I try to play down.

But you smile and pull the lever too hard, one day or another will remain in his fingers, and then you will need to worry.

- Look, there's no need for you to take the hand brake that way eh. I've got the license.

- Mh, I keep myself ready in doubt anyway. You never know, right?

Guidi concentrate, but I miss your smile. E 'tired. These visits also destroy you.

- You're right. - Murmur, and starts out again in the rain to fall - perhaps always be ready to brake is not bad.

The metaphor does not escape me, but I do not say anything.

there is no need, you draw near the machine with violence on the roadside. We are in open countryside, everything around us is desert.

out of the car violently, slamming the car door, and lean against the window giving me the opportunity to see just a sweet line of your shoulders, along with the neck gently bent forward.

Sometimes I think you're really behind glass, I feel I see you, and Thee speak. But not to reach Thee.

I let go a moment before falling, the sky spitting his tears in an irregular manner, and chase away the wipers with noise. The headlights in front of us is lost.

- Ethienne ...

- Do not touch me.

It 's a peremptory order was decided. I stop near you.

- tell me what happens, please? - Is a rhetorical question. But you turn and I see in your eyes the whole world shaken by the violence of the earthquake, and I hit his chest with one punch.

- I should be here. I should be here, cock. But there are not really ... because you did not yet learned to trust me. You still do not talk to me.

I would, believe me. But I'm so tired.

- You know I'm not ready.

- And when you're ready? How much time is needed to pass, before you agree that Eleanor died in that car and do not have pushed you?

You do not know, Ethienne.

Do not you know that we are guilty - guilty of acquiescence .*

- Listen to me. - Place your hands over your ears is a way to protect yourself from the noise of the violent world - Listen to me.

And you're where I shot the violence of your gaze straight into the soul, shivering and trying to take away from you. With my hands, palms scratches, but do not let go of my life.

- No matter how long it takes, right? It does not matter. Not really. It makes no sense. What sense are we, and that's it.

- But it can not exist, we. - Screaming, clapping his hands again on my chest - we can not exist if there is no piece of you.

- the missing piece of me that still have not managed to build. But I can make it with you. COMPLETION, love.

- COMPLETION.

Frank's eyes widened in surprise.

Ethienne was there, curled up next to him, seemed so small and frail, seated the big black carpet with her nails planted in the elbows.

- COMPLETION. - He repeated, looking determined.

not even look like a kid. But not a man. It was something beyond human beings, infinitely superior.

shines its light, her eyes brimming with life and a drop of desire between her lips.

The cluster of his bones was something that Francis longed to possess, and at that time was found to come to terms with his own body.

Saliva in him a subtle excitement, mixed with a feeling that it was not yet able to define.

He leaned on the table beside him, running his hands through his hair.

- Are you sure? - Asked, biting her lower lip. But the boy nodded, moving the air.

- Never been so sure in my life.

They exchanged a look, before Francis was to test the protruding his lips parted the Ethienne gently, letting the language of the plane slip into his mouth.

Soon, the back follows the line of force exerted by the higher of the two, and the boy was found lying on the ground.

Francis looked at him tenderly, stroked his temple, and slowly descended to the top of the shirt, then pulling the edges to bring it on.

He let his hands explore the other side, removing the other garments with extreme delicacy, and his eyes drank from that nudity young and shrewd.

He had a body like those painters who paint, Ethienne; was not even a question of beauty, but the manner in which the light kissed her skin. slipped on his shades and drew shudders at the collar bones, neck and inner thigh. Gradation barely visible, but so beautiful ... so alive.

Francis went up the line of her leg caressing her knee, went through the parallelism of two children near the navel to let his fingertips touch his mouth.

He felt the breath of life to run on his fingers and entrargli inside, to the heart.

- Are you afraid? - Asked to Ethienne while resting your elbows close to him.

He nodded weakly. - It is not the first time, though.

- It is not important. As long as you're here with me now.

The other nodded, closed his eyes with eyelashes trembling, while gently penetrates Francis.

As soon as he felt the trembling of the other under his body, a pulse like an electric spark came straight to the brain. He felt his body tense, and increased in steps.

Ethienne you hugged him, his legs around her hips and her chin was buried in his shoulder. Francis felt the mop of hair brush against other blacks cheeks and forehead, and just moved her face to smell it.

He knew he was good.

She got close to him, gird your loins with strength, with each passing moment the brain loses its ability increasingly perceptive and was reduced to a series of small pulses sensual and passionate .

was a set of details.

Ethienne The smell of leather, one of her hair. Sex erect touched her belly, which matched with his sweaty chest. The strong and firm buttocks in his hands.

The climax came in a violent, overwhelming both.

Francis narrowed his eyes, biting his shoulder while Ethienne's not to scream. Later, they would have fun check the bruise of teeth that the boy had left.

remained stranded for a long time on the soft carpet.

no need to talk, or add unnecessary words to the perfection of the moment.

- Francis, but still not taught you to arrive on time?

Theo pulls you in one ear and you laugh, trying to escape the clutches of what is your best friend in all respects.

I'm tired.

E 'was a day immensely long and too full of nuances, for my taste. Yet in the end we survived even to today, together.

you take off your coat and leave it leaning against the couch, everything in this house has no real order.

Lele comes out of the kitchen with a pot on her hands and the still air.

do not think I be able to comprehend what has changed, within three years, besides the fact that it has become more beautiful is temperamentally also changed exponentially to her relationship with Theo.

always retains its wild beauty and bittersweet, his features vaguely Indian. It has the security of a cheetah in the move, as it reaches the table with the pot.

- Oh, well there. It was about time!

gaze up to me to blame this time. I apologize with a smile, putting on your coat.

And then assault your hips without a precise meaning, kissing her cheek wet with rain, I need physical contact with you in an almost burdensome.

do not know what has kept me from making love in the leaves against the machine. I do not know which saint has saved me dall'attimo of extreme violence that took me while we were making peace - while I kiss with all my might.

- Sorry, we had an unexpected.

- guess what kind. - Theo grins, running a hand through his hair - Come on, let's sit down.

It gives us back and pop a kiss on the temple of Lele, sitting down next to him.

are strange, these two.

live in a world of their own, between the rollers and brushes, cameras and paintings, their house is a chaos of colors and paintings, rich fabrics and objects absurd.

are a world away, do not let anybody leave.

On their left ring shines a small circle of gold, makes me smile thinking back to that ceremony homemade.

They read each other Three matches of Prevert, in front of a blue candle.

With friends around all of us, sitting in a circle in silence. Besides, they called us that afternoon, telling them that they would be married that evening.

have blown on a match in front of each other and have put the ring each other as well. To consecrate the right to belong.

And that evening you in the dark I have recited the same poem, in your perfect French.

I put myself sitting in front of the rice, I could not help smiling when I see your shocked expression.

- Lele, what are these ?

The way you say this makes me the creeps. Strange sting a pink cotton with a fork, not exactly satisfied.

- are shrimp. - Announces Lele, pleased - Enjoy!

But no one follows him with enthusiasm. Theo looks a bit 'confused, as he chewed noisily.

- Treasury ... - starts looking at the rice - I do not think it came exactly as it should be.

- Well, it's edible. - The answer is pleased to Lele. That soon after, of course, spitting the mouthful into her handkerchief running for a glass of water.

You laugh, fun, laughter and hide behind a hand.

- Do not do it ...

I spoke aloud - to your hand overlapping and dodging out of your mouth. You look at me with a flicker of vitality in the eye, and put his hand on the table.

- Do not do what?

- Do not hide when you laugh.

We lose one minute, just to look at. The sound that takes us back to reality is the slap on the head that gives Theo Lele, accompanied by:

- Thank God I'm here. Guys, how many sticks Findus eat? We want ketchup and mayonnaise?

We end up doing a dinner arranged between a laugh and the next.

is space on various topics - the new home of Mark and Patricia, son of Frederick who has chickenpox, Luisa and her last e-mail from London.

more or less large parts of life, which belong to us in a significant way.

are part of the route that we had to become us.

- Anyway I'd like to come back. - Theo is saying, while sinking a stick wildly in the sauce - I'm thinking about going to visit my mother for the Christmas holidays.

- I do not know, Theo. - Instead you say, putting the glass in front of the plate - It 's the place where I grew up, but that is not dying to see him again.

Ah, Paris.

The place you hate. What of your memories and your life before me.

For a moment it seems to me that the world hangs on the axis wrong, when I realize that that piece of you, actually I'm missing.

And within a second all the phobias come back, come back and complete lack of fear of not being enough. The fact that I miss a piece of your life greatly weakens me.

I hate to think that six existed for nearly eighteen years without me.

It 'stupid and selfish, but I love your life in an almost parasitic. You're the unmoved mover around which my egocentric universe.

- Why do not we go there when I take holidays?

The proposal comes as a sudden slap. You look at me and do not understand, at least initially, but then you move inside me, my little sliver of glass stuck in my heart.

- Yes, because no.

And you know it. I know you know that these are the pieces of life that we lack to be completely free - to be healed.

After all, our history is a continuous journey in search of happiness.

And I'll always be here, to watch over you.

Even now when we go home - while you sleep curled up on the seat and drove away the remnants of bad day with your dreams, away from this world who does not know what you're worth.

* Guilty of tacit consent is a line from "Ode hatred" of line 77


0 comments:

Post a Comment