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metamorphosis2010-05-18 05:12 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-05-18 05:12 pm
Entry tags:
103;
Title: Song
Characters: Spain, England
Rating: PG
For LJ's 50scenes' prompt Sing
In Spain, love is like a song; it’s meant to be sung, to be danced to and to be enjoyed with the person for whom it’s meant for. Love is something to declare and declare loudly, to write and write well, to dance and dance fast, to sing and sing proudly. In Spain, love is a song without words and without music, something that makes its own beat and never ends.
But sometimes the music has to stop, he reasons with a broken heart. Sometimes the music box is broken and only a few notes dribble out, the smallest of tones and meanings. Sometimes, the song was never meant to be played, was never meant to be danced to.
Antonio still sings and still loves, still dances to the broken tune and never wavers because it is love, and love is like a song that is meant to be sung and danced to. Even if the music box is broken, cracked and old and forgotten, it still plays a tune, with the shortest notes and yet the most important notes.
Arthur refuses this song, refuses it because in England, love is a tragedy, overrated and overused. It leads to no good endings and if it does, it’s a battle. Marriages are arranged, not brought about by the quiet courtship that was beginning to spring up. Old-turned families kept birthrights and kept standards, foretold who their sons and daughters would marry before they were even born, make deals and contracts and smiled and shook hands and kept alliances. It meant nothing.
Antonio sings and kisses, courts and teases Arthur, who in turn refuses and denies, turns away and destroys himself over the pleasure of attention, over the pleasure of still having a song sung to him.
He isn’t disappointed when the song fades off, when Antonio doesn’t care about Arthur anymore and he instead turns to more pressing matters. Arthur doesn’t mind that no longer does he feel the cool porcelain music box under his fingers, feel it warm and turn as the music pours out, simple and sweet and longing. He doesn’t mind that it is a tragedy – that the main characters don’t get their happy ending – and minds that it is a comedy – that the main character gets what he wanted in the end.
He wanted to be alone, and he is alone.
Characters: Spain, England
Rating: PG
For LJ's 50scenes' prompt Sing
In Spain, love is like a song; it’s meant to be sung, to be danced to and to be enjoyed with the person for whom it’s meant for. Love is something to declare and declare loudly, to write and write well, to dance and dance fast, to sing and sing proudly. In Spain, love is a song without words and without music, something that makes its own beat and never ends.
But sometimes the music has to stop, he reasons with a broken heart. Sometimes the music box is broken and only a few notes dribble out, the smallest of tones and meanings. Sometimes, the song was never meant to be played, was never meant to be danced to.
Antonio still sings and still loves, still dances to the broken tune and never wavers because it is love, and love is like a song that is meant to be sung and danced to. Even if the music box is broken, cracked and old and forgotten, it still plays a tune, with the shortest notes and yet the most important notes.
Arthur refuses this song, refuses it because in England, love is a tragedy, overrated and overused. It leads to no good endings and if it does, it’s a battle. Marriages are arranged, not brought about by the quiet courtship that was beginning to spring up. Old-turned families kept birthrights and kept standards, foretold who their sons and daughters would marry before they were even born, make deals and contracts and smiled and shook hands and kept alliances. It meant nothing.
Antonio sings and kisses, courts and teases Arthur, who in turn refuses and denies, turns away and destroys himself over the pleasure of attention, over the pleasure of still having a song sung to him.
He isn’t disappointed when the song fades off, when Antonio doesn’t care about Arthur anymore and he instead turns to more pressing matters. Arthur doesn’t mind that no longer does he feel the cool porcelain music box under his fingers, feel it warm and turn as the music pours out, simple and sweet and longing. He doesn’t mind that it is a tragedy – that the main characters don’t get their happy ending – and minds that it is a comedy – that the main character gets what he wanted in the end.
He wanted to be alone, and he is alone.