Moments
folder
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,004
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,004
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Moments
It's the little moments that capture my attention. It's the little things I remember. I’ve been alone for so long, that seeing him again is like a breath of fresh air. I wonder if maybe we can’t get past our animosity. Rosenkreuz was a hard, cruel place. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.
I hear that now he needs someone, now that he’s Persia of Kritiker. I always knew that he’d take over that organization. I think perhaps he’ll do well. Crawford tells me that now I’ve returned, I’m to make myself available to him.
I doubt he’ll take me up on it, but I can always give him the option to turn me down, regardless.
…
It’s the little moments that capture my attention. It’s the little things I remember. I’ve been with him for so long, that it’s hard to remember a time when I wasn’t supplying him with coffee when Kritiker is working him in twenty and thirty hour shifts. I wonder sometimes, if Crawford foresaw what would become of us. Together, we are the greatest team Kritiker has ever seen, greater even than the legendary Weiss.
It’s hard to remember a time when I was lonely, and angry at the world, lost to my family. I see him now, and I remember laughter and smiles and frozen drinks in the rain. Slowly, the bad memories are being replaced with memories I wouldn’t trade for all the money in the world. I think sometimes that I’ve fallen in love with him.
I wonder sometimes, if maybe he doesn’t love me too.
…
It’s the little moments that give it away, that reveal his emotions. He was never very good at hiding them to begin with. It’s the freesia on my pillow when I’m tired. It’s the smile in the morning when I’m frustrated. It’s the little things he does that let me into his secret world, the world of Mamoru, of Persia, of Omi.
It’s those moments when our eyes catch across the room, and for a moment we’re breathing together, seeing together, the lines are blurred and I forget that I am not him, that he is not me.
It’s the little moments when our lips meet and eyes are closed, and there is no one in the world but us. It’s the little things that keep him happy, like patterns in the rain and harmonies in the clouds.
It’s the moments I realize I will lay my life down for him, that I will spend it with him, that I will die without him.
It’s the little things like the passing years and the grey in his hair.
It is everything.
I hear that now he needs someone, now that he’s Persia of Kritiker. I always knew that he’d take over that organization. I think perhaps he’ll do well. Crawford tells me that now I’ve returned, I’m to make myself available to him.
I doubt he’ll take me up on it, but I can always give him the option to turn me down, regardless.
…
It’s the little moments that capture my attention. It’s the little things I remember. I’ve been with him for so long, that it’s hard to remember a time when I wasn’t supplying him with coffee when Kritiker is working him in twenty and thirty hour shifts. I wonder sometimes, if Crawford foresaw what would become of us. Together, we are the greatest team Kritiker has ever seen, greater even than the legendary Weiss.
It’s hard to remember a time when I was lonely, and angry at the world, lost to my family. I see him now, and I remember laughter and smiles and frozen drinks in the rain. Slowly, the bad memories are being replaced with memories I wouldn’t trade for all the money in the world. I think sometimes that I’ve fallen in love with him.
I wonder sometimes, if maybe he doesn’t love me too.
…
It’s the little moments that give it away, that reveal his emotions. He was never very good at hiding them to begin with. It’s the freesia on my pillow when I’m tired. It’s the smile in the morning when I’m frustrated. It’s the little things he does that let me into his secret world, the world of Mamoru, of Persia, of Omi.
It’s those moments when our eyes catch across the room, and for a moment we’re breathing together, seeing together, the lines are blurred and I forget that I am not him, that he is not me.
It’s the little moments when our lips meet and eyes are closed, and there is no one in the world but us. It’s the little things that keep him happy, like patterns in the rain and harmonies in the clouds.
It’s the moments I realize I will lay my life down for him, that I will spend it with him, that I will die without him.
It’s the little things like the passing years and the grey in his hair.
It is everything.