Raggedly cut strands of dark brown hair tumbled over Hilde’s face, falling over her closed eyes. If Duo let his vision drift in the black, messy locks, he could almost imagine that he was kissing someone else... breathing the air and life flowing through the other and into him. Letting him live again. With a small desperate moan, Duo kissed back as fiercely as he could, clutching at her arms. He felt the lips against his curve in a pleased smile, and she pulled back just far enough to speak.
“My Duo...”
“My doll.”
Duo’s eyes flew open; his shocked gasp was lost in Hilde’s mouth as she pressed forward again, now confident, the territory more familiar. He’d kissed her before, many times. She was the only girl of his age who had survived Maxwell, and Duo had known for as long as he could remember that they would someday be married. Young and uncertain, and weighed down by endless fighting, they had never gone to the next step -- but even after Solo had died, leaving to Duo the burden and responsibilities of leading the survivors, they had stolen enough time for kissing. Duo clung to the memories now, struggling to let the warm, familiar touch anchor him into the present, and not send him back into nightmare.
“Hmmm... Duo...” Hilde’s soft sigh rumbled through him, as she inched forward, settling her legs above his.
“My pretty little doll.”
The voice had spoken so loudly, even though he knew there was no-one there but him and Hilde... still so loud and jarring. As though the speaker were just behind him. Or just above him.
Re: Spoil of War, prologue
Date: 2006-02-28 01:25 am (UTC)Raggedly cut strands of dark brown hair tumbled over Hilde’s face, falling over her closed eyes. If Duo let his vision drift in the black, messy locks, he could almost imagine that he was kissing someone else... breathing the air and life flowing through the other and into him. Letting him live again. With a small desperate moan, Duo kissed back as fiercely as he could, clutching at her arms. He felt the lips against his curve in a pleased smile, and she pulled back just far enough to speak.
“My Duo...”
“My doll.”
Duo’s eyes flew open; his shocked gasp was lost in Hilde’s mouth as she pressed forward again, now confident, the territory more familiar. He’d kissed her before, many times. She was the only girl of his age who had survived Maxwell, and Duo had known for as long as he could remember that they would someday be married. Young and uncertain, and weighed down by endless fighting, they had never gone to the next step -- but even after Solo had died, leaving to Duo the burden and responsibilities of leading the survivors, they had stolen enough time for kissing. Duo clung to the memories now, struggling to let the warm, familiar touch anchor him into the present, and not send him back into nightmare.
“Hmmm... Duo...” Hilde’s soft sigh rumbled through him, as she inched forward, settling her legs above his.
“My pretty little doll.”
The voice had spoken so loudly, even though he knew there was no-one there but him and Hilde... still so loud and jarring. As though the speaker were just behind him. Or just above him.