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metamorphosis2012-01-02 09:40 am
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2012-01-02 09:40 am
Entry tags:
271;
Title: play (3/4)
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: G
8/365. For some dumbshit high school au.
The next time he sees Spada is the night before the play; he swings by Luca's house, dressed in his costume, and it makes Luca smile. His heart swells a little at the sight of him (Spada looks really good as a prince, almost as if he really is one--) and it doesn't sink when Spada refuses his invitation to go in. They stay outside, in that case, sitting on the railing of the porch. Luca glances at Spada, biting the inside of his lip nervously, and watches the closed pink and white blooms of his mother's flower garden.
“Um... Spada... About before--”
“What's up?”
“Um-- you... didn't come back to practice your lines here anymore... You went to, um, rehearsals and stuff.”
He's shaking, he knows he is; he can hear his voice shake, as much as he wills it not to, and his hands shake in front of his eyes, as much as he clenches them between his legs to stop it. Luca doesn't even a chance a look at Spada; he keeps on, hoping his voice becomes steadier as he rambles on.
(It doesn't, but he can at least say he tried.)
“I-I was just thinking-- or I've been thinking-- that maybe it was something I said or did and, um, I'm really sorry if it was, and I still want to be your friend a-and I hope that, um, that we can still be like that, and I really am sorry if I upset you somehow, so--”
“Shut the hell up.”
“-- I was just... huh?”
Spada nudges him roughly and frowns; he's a little more than disappointed, apparently, because he turns full towards towards Luca, legs hanging on either side of the railing. Luca just shyly turns his head towards Spada and keeps his eyes lowered – until Spada forces him to look up with a hand under his chin. The sight unnerves him, a little; not even the smile that starts to force itself onto Spada's face is any help (once Spada figured out that frowning was only going to worry Luca more; it hard to smile, though, when you're trying to find the words to say you're beginning to hate your friend (and Luca had said they were, hadn't he?) because of his lucky family life) and he shakes until Spada drapes his arms around his shoulders and pulls him close, lets him lean on him and lays his cheek against his head. They stay like that, breathing in the night air and each other (Luca smells clean, just out of the shower; Spada's more than a little outdoorsy and a little rank, as if he'd been sitting in the sewers until night was falling) and Spada sighs-- or groans, more like.
“You're such a pain in the ass. I just got yelled at by the drama teacher about not going to the rehearsals, and she threatened to tell the principal I hadn't been workin' my lines. That's all.”
The lie slides out of his lips like water from a jar, and he hopes Luca doesn't take it (that he asks what's really going on); his heart sinks a little when, after a hesitant moment, Luca nods and looks up at him, smiling a little (because he was happy that Spada didn't hate him or something like that). The position's a little awkward after the moment's passed, and Luca scoots away once Spada lets him go; he reverses his position and slides off the railing and onto the porch, sighing, and Spada does the same, leaning back against it and grinning.
“We good?”
“Yeah. Um... Thanks.”
“No need to thank me.”
“... Um, then, I'm sorr--”
“Don't apologise either.” Spada pauses at his words here, thinking. “Your mom done cookin' dinner?”
“Uh-- yeah. Do you want to join us?”
“Nah, I'm good. Gotta get home and change out of these stupid clothes. And, uh...”
For once in his life, Spada feels a little nervous; he's not so sure he looks the part, because Luca's still smiling at him, genuine and happy, and it feels a little too much like he's asking him out on a date or something but he forges on.
“You comin' to the play?”
“Of course.”
“Great. I'll see you there.”
Spada jogs down the stairs and onto the dark street after his good bye, and Luca watches him until he's sure he's down the road and too far to make out Luca's waving hand. It's only then he allows himself to deflate a little and close his eyes, step back and lean against the front door to catch his breath and calm his rapid heart.
Characters: Spada Belforma, Luca Milda
Rating: G
8/365. For some dumbshit high school au.
The next time he sees Spada is the night before the play; he swings by Luca's house, dressed in his costume, and it makes Luca smile. His heart swells a little at the sight of him (Spada looks really good as a prince, almost as if he really is one--) and it doesn't sink when Spada refuses his invitation to go in. They stay outside, in that case, sitting on the railing of the porch. Luca glances at Spada, biting the inside of his lip nervously, and watches the closed pink and white blooms of his mother's flower garden.
“Um... Spada... About before--”
“What's up?”
“Um-- you... didn't come back to practice your lines here anymore... You went to, um, rehearsals and stuff.”
He's shaking, he knows he is; he can hear his voice shake, as much as he wills it not to, and his hands shake in front of his eyes, as much as he clenches them between his legs to stop it. Luca doesn't even a chance a look at Spada; he keeps on, hoping his voice becomes steadier as he rambles on.
(It doesn't, but he can at least say he tried.)
“I-I was just thinking-- or I've been thinking-- that maybe it was something I said or did and, um, I'm really sorry if it was, and I still want to be your friend a-and I hope that, um, that we can still be like that, and I really am sorry if I upset you somehow, so--”
“Shut the hell up.”
“-- I was just... huh?”
Spada nudges him roughly and frowns; he's a little more than disappointed, apparently, because he turns full towards towards Luca, legs hanging on either side of the railing. Luca just shyly turns his head towards Spada and keeps his eyes lowered – until Spada forces him to look up with a hand under his chin. The sight unnerves him, a little; not even the smile that starts to force itself onto Spada's face is any help (once Spada figured out that frowning was only going to worry Luca more; it hard to smile, though, when you're trying to find the words to say you're beginning to hate your friend (and Luca had said they were, hadn't he?) because of his lucky family life) and he shakes until Spada drapes his arms around his shoulders and pulls him close, lets him lean on him and lays his cheek against his head. They stay like that, breathing in the night air and each other (Luca smells clean, just out of the shower; Spada's more than a little outdoorsy and a little rank, as if he'd been sitting in the sewers until night was falling) and Spada sighs-- or groans, more like.
“You're such a pain in the ass. I just got yelled at by the drama teacher about not going to the rehearsals, and she threatened to tell the principal I hadn't been workin' my lines. That's all.”
The lie slides out of his lips like water from a jar, and he hopes Luca doesn't take it (that he asks what's really going on); his heart sinks a little when, after a hesitant moment, Luca nods and looks up at him, smiling a little (because he was happy that Spada didn't hate him or something like that). The position's a little awkward after the moment's passed, and Luca scoots away once Spada lets him go; he reverses his position and slides off the railing and onto the porch, sighing, and Spada does the same, leaning back against it and grinning.
“We good?”
“Yeah. Um... Thanks.”
“No need to thank me.”
“... Um, then, I'm sorr--”
“Don't apologise either.” Spada pauses at his words here, thinking. “Your mom done cookin' dinner?”
“Uh-- yeah. Do you want to join us?”
“Nah, I'm good. Gotta get home and change out of these stupid clothes. And, uh...”
For once in his life, Spada feels a little nervous; he's not so sure he looks the part, because Luca's still smiling at him, genuine and happy, and it feels a little too much like he's asking him out on a date or something but he forges on.
“You comin' to the play?”
“Of course.”
“Great. I'll see you there.”
Spada jogs down the stairs and onto the dark street after his good bye, and Luca watches him until he's sure he's down the road and too far to make out Luca's waving hand. It's only then he allows himself to deflate a little and close his eyes, step back and lean against the front door to catch his breath and calm his rapid heart.