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theblueintheday2015-04-21 06:58 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in theblueintheday2015-04-21 06:58 pm
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[team five] Gnossienne 3
Because Noah is important too.
Title is from the composition by Satie, as re-interpreted by Chad Crouch.
He whispers at night, when everyone else is sleeping, counting back the moments that are slipping further and further out of reach. Lingering.
Noah doesn't sleep. He counts seconds like steps, ladders climbing up to destination he can't reach, roaming the miniature Henrietta that Gansey is piecing together, one paper building at a time. They keep each other company, sometimes, opposite sides of the same coin.
The one who should have lived and the one who should have died. Noah's face is still crushed, if you look at it in the right light.
It's okay though, because he got to kiss Blue and Gansey can't, though he doesn't know why.
Tell me why, he doesn't ask, sitting next to each other, facing down Main Street, everything so neat and organized from this bird's eye view of the world that isn't quite real. Noah doesn't answer, he can't and he wouldn't anyway.
Her lips were soft, he doesn't tell Gansey, her lips were like the memory of silk. Noah keeps the feelings deep inside where his heart might be, narrated by the sound of crickets singing at night rather than heartbeats, a lone accordion playing a solitary tune, accompanied by the ghost of a piano.
Sometimes Gansey's hand brushes his, and Noah wishes—it's not that he wishes for him, specifically, just like he didn't kiss Blue for keeps despite never wanting to let go. He yearns for warmth, for touch, for the knowing that one belongs in the order of things. But when he's feeling more faded than usual he'll happen to catch Gansey's eye and remember.
Noah wonders, sometimes, what it would be like to give Gansey Blue's kiss. He knows, somehow, that he could do it to, give him that second-hand gift of something he can't have. But Noah is selfish. He keeps Blue's kiss to himself, wraps it around the memory of his bones.
It almost keeps him warm at night, when he doesn't sleep.
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lattelotus
Title is from the composition by Satie, as re-interpreted by Chad Crouch.
He whispers at night, when everyone else is sleeping, counting back the moments that are slipping further and further out of reach. Lingering.
Noah doesn't sleep. He counts seconds like steps, ladders climbing up to destination he can't reach, roaming the miniature Henrietta that Gansey is piecing together, one paper building at a time. They keep each other company, sometimes, opposite sides of the same coin.
The one who should have lived and the one who should have died. Noah's face is still crushed, if you look at it in the right light.
It's okay though, because he got to kiss Blue and Gansey can't, though he doesn't know why.
Tell me why, he doesn't ask, sitting next to each other, facing down Main Street, everything so neat and organized from this bird's eye view of the world that isn't quite real. Noah doesn't answer, he can't and he wouldn't anyway.
Her lips were soft, he doesn't tell Gansey, her lips were like the memory of silk. Noah keeps the feelings deep inside where his heart might be, narrated by the sound of crickets singing at night rather than heartbeats, a lone accordion playing a solitary tune, accompanied by the ghost of a piano.
Sometimes Gansey's hand brushes his, and Noah wishes—it's not that he wishes for him, specifically, just like he didn't kiss Blue for keeps despite never wanting to let go. He yearns for warmth, for touch, for the knowing that one belongs in the order of things. But when he's feeling more faded than usual he'll happen to catch Gansey's eye and remember.
Noah wonders, sometimes, what it would be like to give Gansey Blue's kiss. He knows, somehow, that he could do it to, give him that second-hand gift of something he can't have. But Noah is selfish. He keeps Blue's kiss to himself, wraps it around the memory of his bones.
It almost keeps him warm at night, when he doesn't sleep.
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lattelotus