Series: Wolf's Rain
Title: Deadly Silence
Pairing: Take a guess. :D
Warnings: Rambling. XD;
Word count: 500 even! I win!
X-posted to: xoq + tsumeboe
"How can you trust him like that?" This is the first time he hasn't been hostile as he asks, because his words are usually laced with venom and disbelief. No, now it's hushed, like he needs a reason other than his own to believe it, like he already knows it-- He just needs reassurance.
The silence is heavy and potent. He can imagine himself swimming in it, diving down, and not being able to push his way back to the surface because he is drowning in it, being slowly dragged down to the bottom like weeds wrapping about his ankles and holding him back. He is only able to die as his lungs catch fire because the only thing he can inhale is silence, and silence is too thick. Even now, it feels like it's choking him, its thin fingers snaking up and about his chest and neck and squeezing until there's nothing left to strangle. He wants to take a knife to the thick belly of it and rip it at the seams so it can't overcome him like it has so many times before.
He wants him to say something-- anything to fill the silence. Too much of it will suffocate him.
The muteness continues until--
"What else do we have to believe in?" The question is thoughtful, even though it's rhetorical. He knows the other doesn't need a reply to know what the answer would be. He wants to say it anyway, partially because the younger one deserves to hear it and partially because he has to fill the silence before it kills him, but the only thing that comes from his throat is a forced breath.
"Nothing," he manages finally. The words linger in the air around them like smoke hanging after a cigarette, sinking into their skin and their ears and their thoughts. And it's true. Beyond earth's barren lands, the fear, the emptiness that's etched into every memory of man left behind, there is nothing but the hope that maybe, somewhere, things are what they were like before any of them could remember. Where not everything is grey and old and counting the days until it's all over so as to lighten the load of misery ripping the skin from its back.
"We'll find paradise someday, Tsume. It's just a matter of how hard you're willing to look for it." A soft smile. He's comforted by it, though he'll never admit it.
But now the silence is brimming with warmth, because that smile is resonating between the both of them, and he doesn't feel so threatened anymore. It's making tingles run along his spine, and he's puzzled because it's not a full moon. He shouldn't feel so fulfilled just by the slight movement of some useless brat's face.
Now it's one of those peaceful quiets, like the kind that always seems to settle when the sun is sinking low into the horizon.
He's beginning to understand the differences between awkward silences and comfortable ones.