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writetomyheart2021-02-24 12:04 am
end_alls) wrote in writetomyheart2021-02-24 12:04 am
Entry tags:
[TEAM ONE] - Autoclave
Kingdom Hearts, Yozora, rated G, ~400 words, Yozora's been having these weird thoughts lately
With the torrential rain as a backdrop, he found himself lingering over thoughts he never would normally.
Yozora sat on the edge of the government building, hood uselessly drawn over his damp hair. The wind had made sure to soak him all the way through in spite of his layers, deep enough to chill the cavern inside his chest.
His heart lay somewhere inside, surely, but was it even his? It tugged on him at odd hours of the day and night, pulling him down into sleep even as his nails dragged against the walls of consciousness, trying to catch on anything that would keep him awake. It never worked.
From the darkness, his city would rise around him, buildings flickering cold and empty as coffins. In the center would be Sora, always endlessly, blissfully unaware that he was everything dreams were: confoundingly frustrating, unnervingly familiar. An answer he lost every time he woke. Sora remained a puzzle he never had time to solve, because if Yozora didn’t put him down quickly, they wouldn’t be alone for long.
Someone else had been entering the dreams. Yozora felt him like fog in his lungs, raindrops on his cheeks, misting through the city in a haze of grief. He passed like a ghost, chilling the dreams into the sort of nightmares that left Yozora shivering with sweat when he woke. The intruder’s sorrow made the dark skies grey with clouds, bringing rain heavy enough to weigh down Yozora’s chest with something other than emptiness.
Yozora regretted getting close enough to see his face. The nightmare looked so much like himself it seemed deliberate—an accusation pointed at his dulled chest that said, “I’m real, and you’re fake.”
Maybe he was Sora’s savior, and Yozora was the nightmare barring his way. If he ever caught him, felled him, would Yozora ever wake?
A chill of wind whipped off his hood to bring him back to reality, but the rain felt so much like the downpour inside his nightmares that Yozora wondered if he could even be sure anymore. Whether awake or asleep, he felt no less numb as his heart shrank and withered behind his ribs. Even a downpour did nothing to root emotion inside his chest.
“Commander, we need you inside.”
Yozora closed his eyes and blew out a deep breath, as if he could expel his self-absorbed thoughts with it. There was work to be done here, and he lost enough time to dreaming as it was.
He stood, letting the slight slip of his boots on the rooftop trick his heart into thinking it might fall down with the rain.
With the torrential rain as a backdrop, he found himself lingering over thoughts he never would normally.
Yozora sat on the edge of the government building, hood uselessly drawn over his damp hair. The wind had made sure to soak him all the way through in spite of his layers, deep enough to chill the cavern inside his chest.
His heart lay somewhere inside, surely, but was it even his? It tugged on him at odd hours of the day and night, pulling him down into sleep even as his nails dragged against the walls of consciousness, trying to catch on anything that would keep him awake. It never worked.
From the darkness, his city would rise around him, buildings flickering cold and empty as coffins. In the center would be Sora, always endlessly, blissfully unaware that he was everything dreams were: confoundingly frustrating, unnervingly familiar. An answer he lost every time he woke. Sora remained a puzzle he never had time to solve, because if Yozora didn’t put him down quickly, they wouldn’t be alone for long.
Someone else had been entering the dreams. Yozora felt him like fog in his lungs, raindrops on his cheeks, misting through the city in a haze of grief. He passed like a ghost, chilling the dreams into the sort of nightmares that left Yozora shivering with sweat when he woke. The intruder’s sorrow made the dark skies grey with clouds, bringing rain heavy enough to weigh down Yozora’s chest with something other than emptiness.
Yozora regretted getting close enough to see his face. The nightmare looked so much like himself it seemed deliberate—an accusation pointed at his dulled chest that said, “I’m real, and you’re fake.”
Maybe he was Sora’s savior, and Yozora was the nightmare barring his way. If he ever caught him, felled him, would Yozora ever wake?
A chill of wind whipped off his hood to bring him back to reality, but the rain felt so much like the downpour inside his nightmares that Yozora wondered if he could even be sure anymore. Whether awake or asleep, he felt no less numb as his heart shrank and withered behind his ribs. Even a downpour did nothing to root emotion inside his chest.
“Commander, we need you inside.”
Yozora closed his eyes and blew out a deep breath, as if he could expel his self-absorbed thoughts with it. There was work to be done here, and he lost enough time to dreaming as it was.
He stood, letting the slight slip of his boots on the rooftop trick his heart into thinking it might fall down with the rain.