Unholy
By: Stacy L.
CATEGORY: Alternate Universe, Angst
TABLE FIC PROMPT: #023. Unholy
WARNINGS: Dark
COMPLETED:
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This story serves as a response to a table fic prompt from the 50_darkfics LiveJournal challenge community.
* * * *
"You came."
"Of course I came."
"Why do you come?"
"Why do you always ask me that?"
"Because..."
"You don't understand it. You don't understand love."
"I don't know what love is, Jack."
"I know, but you're learning."
His smile becomes soft, whimsical yet he still remains standing half in light,
half in shadow. I don't approach him yet for I know it is too soon, to approach
him now would startle him, for he believes he is still dreaming. He can't
believe that I am here, that I still come, will always come. He feels that he
is unworthy, a creature most unholy, a creature of nightmares and horror.
Long ago he was cursed, branded one of the undead. He slept for many years in
darkness: alone, afraid...forgotten. When he awoke again he nearly fell into
despair. His life is one of pain and suffering. When I had first met him he
refused to come into the light. He said he was a monster, that he had scars
that made him ugly. He wouldn't come into the light for some time. He'd wait
for me, so certain I would never return and when I did I always had to approach
with caution, not because he was a danger to me but because he was so very
afraid.
When we first touched it was always in darkness, never in the light. I never
saw his face, never saw him up close. I would try to coax him, but he'd refuse
saying that he was hideous and didn't want to frighten me away. It was several
months before he'd allow me to touch him, to touch his face, his body. I
remember expecting to feel rough scarred tissue beneath my palms but all I felt
was smooth skin, a sharply defined face and a body both firm and muscular. I
didn't ask all those questions I had desired to on that day, but instead
accepted what he believed, grateful that he felt safe enough with me to allow
me to touch him.
Our relationship progressed from there. Eventually he allowed more contact,
intimate contact, but there was always a stipulation: no light, only darkness.
I wasn't allowed to see him. I honored his request, and we began an intense
relationship. One day he felt it only fair to grant me that which I desperately
wanted and as I lay against him held tightly in his strong embrace he whispered
the words to me, "Turn on the light, Jack."
"What?"
"I want you to see me. I...if you desire to leave afterwards I won't stop
you."
"Daniel, are you sure?"
"Yes."
I reached over to flick on the light, my hand shaking so badly I fumbled the
switch several times before turning it on. When I turned back I saw Daniel's
vulnerability so clearly. He held his head down. He wouldn't look at me. He
seemed so ashamed. I swallowed hard managing, "Daniel, you don't..."
"Yes I do, but I can't..."
Look at me, he couldn't look at me so I reached up, gently cupped his hidden
cheek and turned him towards me my breath tight in my chest, palms sweating,
heat encompassing me... When I turned his face towards me he still refused to
look up keeping his head bowed, eyes downcast. I softly urged him to look at me
and waited. Time nearly stood still as I waited, and when I felt certain he
would not look up he raised his head and our gazes collided: vivid blue
clashing with deep brown. My breath became trapped in my chest as I stared at him
and I nearly crumbled as he quietly uttered, "You see I'm ugly."
I don't know if I shook my head or even spoke a word for the span of a
heartbeat before managing, "You're beautiful, Daniel, so beautiful."
He nearly turned away, his eyelashes becoming damp with unshed tears as he
managed, "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not, Daniel."
Then I leaned in and captured his lips in mine. From then on we left the lights
on but still when I first approach him he stays hidden in shadow, afraid he's
dreaming and not wanting to ever wake up.
As I smile warmly I softly utter, "Come to me Daniel, please," and as
if he is under a spell he moves into my waiting arms before kissing me
feverishly, desperately. I feel his arms tighten around me and I know that
again he feared he was dreaming...and again I set out to prove him wrong.
He says he's a beast, but I say he's my angel.
** The End **
Feedback to: bluebirdstears@yahoo.com
Copyright©2004-2011Midnightstorms.net
All Rights Reserved.