He can tell, by parts, when Danny starts to relent. The way he can tell, maybe, when his tone shifts in the middle of a sentence, for any reason. When the finger that finds his skin is soft, nothing like the grasp from minutes earlier. When Danny seems able to finally remember how to pull in air for breathing again. The location of it shifting his shoulders.
When it doesn't change that they are locked together in the foyer area of his living room, still holding on, the sound of their breathing seeming to fill the whole area. Everything in his ears. When his vision almost feels edged and fuzzy, like being thrust into, giving into, a long, hard, take everything, windsprint without thinking about it first, only focusing on the destination, the singular point in front.
That would be Danny, here. Tearing through every wall he built like it was tissue paper. Still. Again. Always.
Close enough he doesn't have to have his eyes open to know he's right here. When he's taking a breath, licking faintly throbbing lips, swallowing and looking down at Danny. Danny, who could trample him in a way not else could, in a way he'd welcome. Go with, not fight back against, when he can fight and win nearly anything, everything thrown in his way to defeat.
When Danny's right there, beneath his gaze, looking as dazed, but still broken wide open, like everything is shattered all around them, but it's not all red anymore maybe. When Danny's name is jackhammering through his chest, at his throat, but his tongue feels like solid cement. Because he can't actually fix where it all came from. How. Say it won't happen again.
Stoppering the word, leaving him there, in the room that's too quiet and still suddenly.
Like the pause after an explosion, ears ringing, ground settling, before you can even know what did or didn't survive.
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branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2012-12-02 07:35 pm (UTC)When it doesn't change that they are locked together in the foyer area of his living room, still holding on, the sound of their breathing seeming to fill the whole area. Everything in his ears. When his vision almost feels edged and fuzzy, like being thrust into, giving into, a long, hard, take everything, windsprint without thinking about it first, only focusing on the destination, the singular point in front.
That would be Danny, here. Tearing through every wall he built like it was tissue paper. Still. Again. Always.
Close enough he doesn't have to have his eyes open to know he's right here. When he's taking a breath, licking faintly throbbing lips, swallowing and looking down at Danny. Danny, who could trample him in a way not else could, in a way he'd welcome. Go with, not fight back against, when he can fight and win nearly anything, everything thrown in his way to defeat.
When Danny's right there, beneath his gaze, looking as dazed, but still broken wide open, like everything is shattered all around them, but it's not all red anymore maybe. When Danny's name is jackhammering through his chest, at his throat, but his tongue feels like solid cement. Because he can't actually fix where it all came from. How. Say it won't happen again.
Stoppering the word, leaving him there, in the room that's too quiet and still suddenly.
Like the pause after an explosion, ears ringing, ground settling, before you can even know what did or didn't survive.