This is a stolen moment, something outside reality...

[fahye]

-Perfect- You're the perfect girlfriend. Which
means you're rare or that you cheated :P You're
the kind of chick that can hang out with your
boyfriend's friends and be silly. You don't
care about presents or about going to fancy
placed. Hell, just hang out. You're just happy
being around your boyfriend.


What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
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*blinks* Are you kidding? I've always thought I'd make rather a pathetic girlfriend. I'd be far too possessive and paranoid... however, I was sort of answering the questions with a WINTER NERD in mind. That seems to be what's on everyone's minds these days. We've created this wonderfully appealing prospect and are now sitting around bemoaning the fact that there probably are precious few of the damn things out there.

Today was dull and headachy and the only upside was the two chocolate chip biscuits and other peices of chocolate I allowed myself to consume because I'm sick and I deserve it :P Am now thinking in horror about all the work I will have to catch up on and wishing that I didn't have to go to a staff meeting tonight. ARE we going to the school gym tomorrow? I may have to work but may be able to come.

Shields is now over 15K words. Yay. Have written a scene which I like because it is PRETTY and am now debating taking it out because it may not work too well. Bugger. Why can't it be sappy AND illogical? Eujar! Anyone else who can be bothered to give input and don't mind being spoilered for Sheilds! On reflection of that statement, probably just Eujar! Advice needed!


An awakening. Another one, though this is so very different to all the others. It's almost dark outside and there's no-one in the room, which is probably a good thing. I don't think I could handle a conversation right now – there's too much I have to think through.

First: Hisoka is alive. I have to say it a few times before it really sinks in, to overcome the many times I'd denied it. Each denial was like a bruise on my soul, and if you bruise a place often enough it'll leave a scar beneath the surface.

Hisoka is alive.

And finally, I can let myself believe it. Something falls onto the sheet and before I can recognise it as a tear I'm crying harder than I've ever cried before, silently and desperately and in total relief. I have to sit up before I choke, and to my surprise my body is functioning fairly well. I must have been asleep for a long time, and I suppose my Shinigami self-healing was hard at work all the while.

Eventually I stop, and take a few deep breaths before moving on to the second fact, the one I've been trying to avoid because I don't know what I'm going to do about it.

Next: Hisoka knows that I'm in love with him.

And that almost starts me crying again, because it's the worst thing that could have happened. I've been over the reasons why it had to be avoided time and time again. And there's no way I can talk my way out of it, laugh the whole thing off and pretend it was all a mistake. He'll never believe me, not after what I know he saw. It's like I said – inside someone's head, there are no secrets.

"Tsuzuki?"

Oh God. This is the last thing that I can cope with right now, but I'm going to have to do it somehow. Life doesn't just stop while you work out your problems. It keeps going.

"Come in, Hisoka." I don't want to be so formal, not with him. But I can't think of anything else.

He takes a single step inside the door and closes it neatly behind him. He leans back and rests against the door, and we look at each other for a long time. To the objective observer his cool gaze would be impenetrable, but I can see a certain amount of wariness in his stance. And I'm trying like hell not to show that I'm drinking in the sight of him desperately, carefully taking in every inch of the slight figure that I didn't know if I would ever see again.

I think he can see something of what I'm feeling, just as I can with him, but my shields are up again and I don't think they'll be coming down for a while. His eyes widen slightly as he realises this, and then, in the same instant, we come to a silent agreement. We're not going to discuss what he saw – not today. I need time and I think he probably does too. Tomorrow is for regrets. Now is for forgiveness.

And then I blink and by the time my eyes have opened again he's standing next to the bed. I lift a hand tentatively and stroke back his hair, the way he stroked back mine when I was almost gone.

"I thought I had lost you," I say softly.

"I thought I had lost you."

And then before I quite realise what I'm doing I stretch my arms out and draw him into a gentle embrace like I have so many times before, and he puts his arms around my neck and his head on my shoulder and I say the only thing that I could possibly say at that moment.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry, Hisoka."

He doesn't reply, just stays there, and – a piece of silent tact for which I am very grateful – keeps his own shields up and doesn't project anything. I don’t think I could cope with his emotions right now, mine are tangled enough.

This isn't real, I think we both know that. This is a stolen moment, something outside reality. The reality is that tomorrow we both have to confront what has happened during the past few days – weeks? How long has it been? Tomorrow I have to face everyone else, see their sympathy and their anxiety. Tomorrow I have to accept that fact that my relationship with Hisoka will be changed by the thing that was never meant to happen. Tomorrow is when the guilt starts again.

But for now – just for now – all that matters is that the person I love is in my arms and I can let myself dream, frozen in a moment outside time.

Tomorrow is when the dream ends.

~

I'm not sure if the second-last little paragraph works well where it is or should be incorporated into the one above it, so that all the 'tomorrow is' bits are consecutive. (Yes, it's another pretty little ending sentence. I think it's an obscure complex of mine)Feedback?


Also finished Seductive Poison O.O Scary stuff. My mother may be halfway reconciled to the fact that I want to do Psych next year, though she's still worried about prerequisites. Think I'll go surf the ANU site for a while.