yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2011-05-10 09:18 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2011-05-10 09:18 pm
Entry tags:
237;
Title: interruptus dreamus
Characters: Eco, Belca
Rating: G
The only note I have to make is how close I was to writing them kissing instead.
It's a nice dream. It's a nice memory.
Hector's sitting on his bedside, setting a candlelit lamp on the table beside his bed. There's a large and heavy book on his lap, corners well-worn from the religious thumbing it's had to endure. A much younger Belca's sitting up, a little shocked and a little shy, a happy smile and fingers curling into the blankets and bunching them up. The book's opened to the firs story – one about a princess and a frog, with a matching picture and curly, gilded letters announcing the title of the tale – and he's enrapture by it.
Belca feels like he's standing on the edge of the memory, watching it happen instead of being there himself. An outsider looking in, Eco would've called it. The voices are there, but he can feel the warmth he knew that night; he knows the words and the pacing too well, mouthing them in time with the late Prince Hector.
Coldness washes over him suddenly, and he feels like he's drowning in it. Water chases away the warmly lit memory, and--
he jolts up with a start in his bed, soaked to the bone in freezing water. His fingers grip the blankets around his sides tightly, knuckles white from the pressure. It's a clear, sunny day – the light filters in through the window, dust particles dancing in pairs and elaborate airborne waltzes – and he forces his eyes to get used to the brightness of it all.
As soon as they adjust, he sees who's to blame for the freezing, wet situation; Eco, holding a bucket almost guiltily, grinning cheekily and dropping it as soon as Belca narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to yell at him.
“What the hell--”
“It's time to wake up, Belca! There's no time for being a layabout prince, coz there's still so much to do~”
“-- Eco!”
“What?”
His clothes stick resiliently to his skin even as he moves out of the bed, tossing the covers off his legs furiously and stalking to the end of his bed. Eco's lips quirk from their grin and he backs away, bucket dropping as he spreads his hands innocently. Belca smacks them aside, advances forward, even as Eco backs off.
“Why did you--”
“I told you, didn't I! It's time to wake up! You have things to do! Responsibilities! What am I gonna sing about if you just sleep all day?”
“It isn't that late in the day, Eco! It's --” he pauses to glance over his shoulder, to the sun hovering just above the hills before he continues his tirade. “-- it's early!”
“Well, we can't all be lazy people! The early fisher nets the biggest catch or something like that, so getting up early is better than getting up late!”
“Not this early!”
Eco pouts, ducking to the left when Belca tries to grab him, and his fingers find purchase drenched fabric, enough to race up and down the young prince's sides. The result is involuntary laughter; Belca's turning red our of fury and embarrassment, and Eco's laughing as he keeps it on, migrating his fingers to under the cold bedclothes and onto damp skin. He only stops when Belca slips out of his grasp, hurrying towards the window and bracing himself on it, back to the sun. Eco's grin drifts to a smile and he bends over, grabbing the bucket by its handle and waving joyously with it.
“Hurry out of those wet clothes, Belca~ We don't want you getting a cold!”
“You should've thought about that before you threw water on me, weirdo!”
“Huh, what's so weird about that?”
He's out the door, slamming it shut, before Belca has a chance to retort. His fingers grip the windowsill tightly and he groans, tilting his head back and closing his eyes and wondering why the hell Eco was his friend.
Characters: Eco, Belca
Rating: G
The only note I have to make is how close I was to writing them kissing instead.
It's a nice dream. It's a nice memory.
Hector's sitting on his bedside, setting a candlelit lamp on the table beside his bed. There's a large and heavy book on his lap, corners well-worn from the religious thumbing it's had to endure. A much younger Belca's sitting up, a little shocked and a little shy, a happy smile and fingers curling into the blankets and bunching them up. The book's opened to the firs story – one about a princess and a frog, with a matching picture and curly, gilded letters announcing the title of the tale – and he's enrapture by it.
Belca feels like he's standing on the edge of the memory, watching it happen instead of being there himself. An outsider looking in, Eco would've called it. The voices are there, but he can feel the warmth he knew that night; he knows the words and the pacing too well, mouthing them in time with the late Prince Hector.
Coldness washes over him suddenly, and he feels like he's drowning in it. Water chases away the warmly lit memory, and--
he jolts up with a start in his bed, soaked to the bone in freezing water. His fingers grip the blankets around his sides tightly, knuckles white from the pressure. It's a clear, sunny day – the light filters in through the window, dust particles dancing in pairs and elaborate airborne waltzes – and he forces his eyes to get used to the brightness of it all.
As soon as they adjust, he sees who's to blame for the freezing, wet situation; Eco, holding a bucket almost guiltily, grinning cheekily and dropping it as soon as Belca narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to yell at him.
“What the hell--”
“It's time to wake up, Belca! There's no time for being a layabout prince, coz there's still so much to do~”
“-- Eco!”
“What?”
His clothes stick resiliently to his skin even as he moves out of the bed, tossing the covers off his legs furiously and stalking to the end of his bed. Eco's lips quirk from their grin and he backs away, bucket dropping as he spreads his hands innocently. Belca smacks them aside, advances forward, even as Eco backs off.
“Why did you--”
“I told you, didn't I! It's time to wake up! You have things to do! Responsibilities! What am I gonna sing about if you just sleep all day?”
“It isn't that late in the day, Eco! It's --” he pauses to glance over his shoulder, to the sun hovering just above the hills before he continues his tirade. “-- it's early!”
“Well, we can't all be lazy people! The early fisher nets the biggest catch or something like that, so getting up early is better than getting up late!”
“Not this early!”
Eco pouts, ducking to the left when Belca tries to grab him, and his fingers find purchase drenched fabric, enough to race up and down the young prince's sides. The result is involuntary laughter; Belca's turning red our of fury and embarrassment, and Eco's laughing as he keeps it on, migrating his fingers to under the cold bedclothes and onto damp skin. He only stops when Belca slips out of his grasp, hurrying towards the window and bracing himself on it, back to the sun. Eco's grin drifts to a smile and he bends over, grabbing the bucket by its handle and waving joyously with it.
“Hurry out of those wet clothes, Belca~ We don't want you getting a cold!”
“You should've thought about that before you threw water on me, weirdo!”
“Huh, what's so weird about that?”
He's out the door, slamming it shut, before Belca has a chance to retort. His fingers grip the windowsill tightly and he groans, tilting his head back and closing his eyes and wondering why the hell Eco was his friend.