To the New Day a Sea Whispers 1/2
Title: To the New Day a Sea Whispers 1/2
Summary: And through its cloak, I cannot see. In his arms, I wish to rest, but he's a slave to cold, sweet death
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: PG13
Notes: If you think it reads familiar, you're a fan of Vampire Princess Miyu. AU obviously.
“Shinma; God-Demons, demigods or devils in general. Inhuman beings believed to feed off the human soul to survive and to cause absolute chaos on Earth...”
You knew this subject better than anyone. Ironically it just had to be three days till Hallows Eve. You eyed your professor before pretending to jot down notes. It never mattered. There were never really any tests. Just discussion and whatever have you besides three page essays.
Still, you paid no attention seeing as it bored you. You couldn’t figure out why you took the class in the first place. You idly flipped your pen around as your eyes roamed quickly. All the other students were younger than you. And you wondered how on god damn earth they could find this cultural span of Mythology so intriguing. Well, really you didn’t blame the boy, two rows behind you who was just about to fucking snore on his desk. You also felt sorry for the next kid who had to sit there and have to wipe up the drool you were certain that was to follow.
Your eyes flicked back to the professor. She was too young, really. You laughed inwardly. They were all younger than you; ignorant brats that wasted money and thought the world of themselves. So narcissistic that it pissed you off. If only you could offer your hand up and say ‘I believe humans are fundamentally stupid creatures that work themselves to death for nothing of true importance.’
But that would be a silly waste of oxygen and explaining yourself further would only tick you off. You could almost guesstimate exactly which ones would snort and which ones would argue with you. Those who were the egomaniacs would most likely try to push your buttons.
Humans should only live because not all the money in the world could save them from death. It was inevitable. Ah, but on the grand scale you could cheat it as long as you wanted to. Threads of destiny chose you to live with immortality. At least it didn’t weigh you down with countless morals that really did nothing but contradict everything they ever stood for. Two sides to a coin. And really, something like that was hidden in your pocket like the two sides of the Powers That Be.
You almost snickered, but the feeling was cut short by the boy next to you, sliding his dirty hand onto your thigh under the desk. Your leg twitched, but the hand didn’t linger too long. As it slipped away, a piece of paper was left folded twice so when he left it, it balanced just right with the crease pointing upward.
You snatched it up as casually as you could without making it look like a dirty note was being passed around. The hand writing was sloppy, but obviously male. You took one look at it and folded it back up, shoving it into your hoodie. You did best when you didn’t acknowledge letters of any sort. You just didn’t mingle well with other people. That had always been your unfortunate draw back. You drew people to you like moths to a flame.
The jealous types always did mutter under their breaths that it was something of a loud mouthed scene kid to just be a lime-lighter. Just because you drew attention didn’t mean you had to like it. You only encouraged it because you knew they would only believe what they wanted to. What good would it be to try and convince them otherwise? You tried to do that before.
Like Easter with your last fucking girlfriend. You didn’t sleep with her and she wasn’t really your girlfriend. But the masses say whatever they want because gossip was in like total hot cakes. Rumors were the friendlier boast that a girl could make to get more attention, whether it was out of sympathy or not. Well too bad on her part because she knew the truth just as much as you did. It was funny mostly to you since she was the whore and you were the ‘virgin’ she tried to have but couldn’t. She tried to ruin your reputation, but her luck on that didn’t work out so peachy keen as the girl in the row in front of you often liked to say.
And she smelled of Peach Cobbler too; which was both sweet from a distance and really disgusting up close. It was one thing to drink fruit smoothies a lot or to take a shower with the smell of peaches. But when one’s sweat reeks like their blood consisted of cobbler, it just makes any kind of cobbler less appetizing.
“The flute has always been perceived as a means to inflict harm or catch the attention of the demon in order to defeat it or seal it. Music had always thought to be a very powerful instrument.”
You jotted down words in your notebook, knowing what it was that wasn’t coming to mind could be rearranged later. You always did scrutinize your words and how carefully you’d rearrange the display of random words, how structured and how stylistic it could be set up. It was all English but maybe a little too English since no one ever got it. It wasn’t like you looked down at them. It wasn’t meant for anyone but yourself really.
But your ears perked up and you almost scowled out loud. That irritating tune of the flute played. You heard it dozens of times and each time you hated it just the same. It pained your ears because well, you were unnatural. You also heard a grunt of pain. It was soft, but it wasn’t you. So your eyes swept the room once again.
And there… there he was sitting by the window. Not in a chair like most of the other students. But by the window, which really meant there was enough space to fit half of that ass on the window sill with one leg cramped up like he was trying to sit. The other was basically the only thing keeping him from falling down. The sunlight caught his hair and you were caught up in staring. He didn’t seem to notice you staring at him because he was too busy staring out the window restlessly. You thought it was almost picture-esque that had his hand been poised up just a little bit closer to his knee; a butterfly could have been sitting on his fingers.
Butterflies as you mused were the essence of grace and beauty. They were the bringers of change though in a good way. Moths were irritating and just the opposite because they just weren’t pretty enough. It was like Yin and Yang depending on which moth you were looking at. The idea of really seeing a butterfly touching his fingers would have been a sight.
You blinked once and where he was, he was gone. Your chance for a snapshot was missing. You couldn’t sense him anywhere in the room. It wasn’t like he was natural too. It was a complexity of cover around humans. Why he came here you really didn’t know. He wasn’t much of a mass public kind of person.
When the other students got up and started filing out, you packed up your own things. It was waste of time and you put no effort into putting away your books gently. If the messenger bag was heavy, you couldn’t feel it like the others could. It was something on the upside about being stronger. You left the room without looking back; being glad your wasted time was over –not that any of your other classes would help you.
It was a little funny to think that class merely wasted your time. It might have been useless information, but didn’t all your classes waste time with useless information or something fairly trivial to ponder over later on? All you had was time anyway; so really, it was more like trying to get though your extended time by using it up one way or another. And you did do other things, this just passed the time more frequently until something of more importance popped up.
You turned your head ever so slightly to look at the boy (it was questionable to call him a man by the fact of age difference) behind you. It was just a few seconds after the hand touched your shoulder. A chill went through your body like someone had taken ice and scraped it down your spine in a less than formally nice way. You didn’t smile but he did.
“Some real questionable shit in there huh? God, I think she’s just about as young as us, ya know?”
You felt the hand slide down your shoulder to the tip of your shoulder blade. It’s when you turned around he poised his hand up still. It was like he was waiting for the unsaid invitation to be touchy-feely. You weren’t interested in such things. He didn’t seem to be getting the hint.
“So, did you get my note?”
Ah, so that was the point of all the small talk, you realized. It was poor small talk since he chose class and the professor. Of course you had briefly glanced over the note before you put it away. You really weren’t interested. The kid –your habit of calling all others who were younger than you –still had that eyeing look.
“No.”
It was all you said. You didn’t have to acknowledge he gave you anything if you didn’t want to. His face fell but you didn’t feel bad for him. You saw his hand lower as he tried to grab your hand. He only gasped as his hand was stopped inches from yours.
It was then you saw the pale hand holding the kid’s wrist. It was the kind that if it were any tighter the bones might shatter. Your eyes traveled up the hand, the arm just enough to see the beautiful face again. He looked less amused than you did, which was saying something. The kid whimpered and the hand jerked him away before letting go. But there was that gleam in his eyes that lasted for just long enough to make the kid tuck tail and run. Possession and loyalty.
“Are you alright?”
“I wasn’t in danger.”
You calmly answered, looking away from him at first. Too many people in the hallways made it hard to get anywhere without being seen. The extension of unnatural talents would only draw more eyes and you’ve had enough of that today. Even if the kid –Mikey you finally remembered –had been innocently interested in a relationship. The gestures sort of gave it away, and for once you were glad you weren’t in a boarding school; a Catholic one of all schools. You never quite got what religion and basic assessment of brain power had to do with one another.
It wasn’t that you had anything against religious people, but you did have something against people who preached to others and forgot to live by the man-composed document of voiced hypocrisy. Though you never studied it, you still thought the almighty Ten Commandments could really be composed into one since if you thoroughly tore it apart. Thievery was just a repeat in pretty much the other nine, why say the same thing ten times anyway.
Besides, you lived by fate, which ironically tied you to the handsome face that was looking at you coldly now that you turned back to look at him. You lost count of the years you two shared the same fate, and company but you still remembered how it came to be. His promise to always be your companion until you asked him to end your life.
“They’ve grown restless. Joe spotted most of them are carrying key chains that turn your sensors off with them.”
It was a mild excuse to keep anyone from touching you. The only one who had been able to get away with that had been the only boy there that was actively and ignorantly just your friend. He always had a blind eye for the strange and never seemed to question why you left suddenly from class or never let him come to your home.
“We will have a busy night then…”
You trailed off when you saw him turn his gaze away. It looked like he spotted something or he wasn’t paying you any attention. It was an important matter.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
You didn’t like how distant he sounded just then. He never sounded distant around you, at least not like this. It made him sound like he was hiding something, and you two never held secrets. The air about him smelled different than usual too.
“Be careful. The song on the wind isn’t very inviting.”
The scenery changed and you found his hand on your cheek. You almost couldn’t feel it because it seemed like it wasn’t even there. Those pale hands were now white with dark red tapered nails. His entire appearance changed except his face (minus the white skin.) It remained the same, except his eyes bore into yours, and there was an unsaid understanding before he withdrew contact from you. You hated when he did that, always so slow, like he wanted it to be sensual and to last.
Not that you didn’t mind sensual because you two were that close. But it also felt like it would be the last time in a long while he’d touch you like that. You didn’t want him going anywhere, it meant bad news.
“Patrick, where are you going?”
He said nothing as the scenery changed back to the hallway you were in before. But he was gone. Hollering after him would have only caused eyes to look at you. Your form didn’t change nearly as drastically as his had, but it still had changed a bit. You looked both ways before you took off through the hallway. You needed to find Joe. Wherever he went, you refused to let him go alone.
Summary: And through its cloak, I cannot see. In his arms, I wish to rest, but he's a slave to cold, sweet death
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: PG13
Notes: If you think it reads familiar, you're a fan of Vampire Princess Miyu. AU obviously.
“Shinma; God-Demons, demigods or devils in general. Inhuman beings believed to feed off the human soul to survive and to cause absolute chaos on Earth...”
You knew this subject better than anyone. Ironically it just had to be three days till Hallows Eve. You eyed your professor before pretending to jot down notes. It never mattered. There were never really any tests. Just discussion and whatever have you besides three page essays.
Still, you paid no attention seeing as it bored you. You couldn’t figure out why you took the class in the first place. You idly flipped your pen around as your eyes roamed quickly. All the other students were younger than you. And you wondered how on god damn earth they could find this cultural span of Mythology so intriguing. Well, really you didn’t blame the boy, two rows behind you who was just about to fucking snore on his desk. You also felt sorry for the next kid who had to sit there and have to wipe up the drool you were certain that was to follow.
Your eyes flicked back to the professor. She was too young, really. You laughed inwardly. They were all younger than you; ignorant brats that wasted money and thought the world of themselves. So narcissistic that it pissed you off. If only you could offer your hand up and say ‘I believe humans are fundamentally stupid creatures that work themselves to death for nothing of true importance.’
But that would be a silly waste of oxygen and explaining yourself further would only tick you off. You could almost guesstimate exactly which ones would snort and which ones would argue with you. Those who were the egomaniacs would most likely try to push your buttons.
Humans should only live because not all the money in the world could save them from death. It was inevitable. Ah, but on the grand scale you could cheat it as long as you wanted to. Threads of destiny chose you to live with immortality. At least it didn’t weigh you down with countless morals that really did nothing but contradict everything they ever stood for. Two sides to a coin. And really, something like that was hidden in your pocket like the two sides of the Powers That Be.
You almost snickered, but the feeling was cut short by the boy next to you, sliding his dirty hand onto your thigh under the desk. Your leg twitched, but the hand didn’t linger too long. As it slipped away, a piece of paper was left folded twice so when he left it, it balanced just right with the crease pointing upward.
You snatched it up as casually as you could without making it look like a dirty note was being passed around. The hand writing was sloppy, but obviously male. You took one look at it and folded it back up, shoving it into your hoodie. You did best when you didn’t acknowledge letters of any sort. You just didn’t mingle well with other people. That had always been your unfortunate draw back. You drew people to you like moths to a flame.
The jealous types always did mutter under their breaths that it was something of a loud mouthed scene kid to just be a lime-lighter. Just because you drew attention didn’t mean you had to like it. You only encouraged it because you knew they would only believe what they wanted to. What good would it be to try and convince them otherwise? You tried to do that before.
Like Easter with your last fucking girlfriend. You didn’t sleep with her and she wasn’t really your girlfriend. But the masses say whatever they want because gossip was in like total hot cakes. Rumors were the friendlier boast that a girl could make to get more attention, whether it was out of sympathy or not. Well too bad on her part because she knew the truth just as much as you did. It was funny mostly to you since she was the whore and you were the ‘virgin’ she tried to have but couldn’t. She tried to ruin your reputation, but her luck on that didn’t work out so peachy keen as the girl in the row in front of you often liked to say.
And she smelled of Peach Cobbler too; which was both sweet from a distance and really disgusting up close. It was one thing to drink fruit smoothies a lot or to take a shower with the smell of peaches. But when one’s sweat reeks like their blood consisted of cobbler, it just makes any kind of cobbler less appetizing.
“The flute has always been perceived as a means to inflict harm or catch the attention of the demon in order to defeat it or seal it. Music had always thought to be a very powerful instrument.”
You jotted down words in your notebook, knowing what it was that wasn’t coming to mind could be rearranged later. You always did scrutinize your words and how carefully you’d rearrange the display of random words, how structured and how stylistic it could be set up. It was all English but maybe a little too English since no one ever got it. It wasn’t like you looked down at them. It wasn’t meant for anyone but yourself really.
But your ears perked up and you almost scowled out loud. That irritating tune of the flute played. You heard it dozens of times and each time you hated it just the same. It pained your ears because well, you were unnatural. You also heard a grunt of pain. It was soft, but it wasn’t you. So your eyes swept the room once again.
And there… there he was sitting by the window. Not in a chair like most of the other students. But by the window, which really meant there was enough space to fit half of that ass on the window sill with one leg cramped up like he was trying to sit. The other was basically the only thing keeping him from falling down. The sunlight caught his hair and you were caught up in staring. He didn’t seem to notice you staring at him because he was too busy staring out the window restlessly. You thought it was almost picture-esque that had his hand been poised up just a little bit closer to his knee; a butterfly could have been sitting on his fingers.
Butterflies as you mused were the essence of grace and beauty. They were the bringers of change though in a good way. Moths were irritating and just the opposite because they just weren’t pretty enough. It was like Yin and Yang depending on which moth you were looking at. The idea of really seeing a butterfly touching his fingers would have been a sight.
You blinked once and where he was, he was gone. Your chance for a snapshot was missing. You couldn’t sense him anywhere in the room. It wasn’t like he was natural too. It was a complexity of cover around humans. Why he came here you really didn’t know. He wasn’t much of a mass public kind of person.
When the other students got up and started filing out, you packed up your own things. It was waste of time and you put no effort into putting away your books gently. If the messenger bag was heavy, you couldn’t feel it like the others could. It was something on the upside about being stronger. You left the room without looking back; being glad your wasted time was over –not that any of your other classes would help you.
It was a little funny to think that class merely wasted your time. It might have been useless information, but didn’t all your classes waste time with useless information or something fairly trivial to ponder over later on? All you had was time anyway; so really, it was more like trying to get though your extended time by using it up one way or another. And you did do other things, this just passed the time more frequently until something of more importance popped up.
You turned your head ever so slightly to look at the boy (it was questionable to call him a man by the fact of age difference) behind you. It was just a few seconds after the hand touched your shoulder. A chill went through your body like someone had taken ice and scraped it down your spine in a less than formally nice way. You didn’t smile but he did.
“Some real questionable shit in there huh? God, I think she’s just about as young as us, ya know?”
You felt the hand slide down your shoulder to the tip of your shoulder blade. It’s when you turned around he poised his hand up still. It was like he was waiting for the unsaid invitation to be touchy-feely. You weren’t interested in such things. He didn’t seem to be getting the hint.
“So, did you get my note?”
Ah, so that was the point of all the small talk, you realized. It was poor small talk since he chose class and the professor. Of course you had briefly glanced over the note before you put it away. You really weren’t interested. The kid –your habit of calling all others who were younger than you –still had that eyeing look.
“No.”
It was all you said. You didn’t have to acknowledge he gave you anything if you didn’t want to. His face fell but you didn’t feel bad for him. You saw his hand lower as he tried to grab your hand. He only gasped as his hand was stopped inches from yours.
It was then you saw the pale hand holding the kid’s wrist. It was the kind that if it were any tighter the bones might shatter. Your eyes traveled up the hand, the arm just enough to see the beautiful face again. He looked less amused than you did, which was saying something. The kid whimpered and the hand jerked him away before letting go. But there was that gleam in his eyes that lasted for just long enough to make the kid tuck tail and run. Possession and loyalty.
“Are you alright?”
“I wasn’t in danger.”
You calmly answered, looking away from him at first. Too many people in the hallways made it hard to get anywhere without being seen. The extension of unnatural talents would only draw more eyes and you’ve had enough of that today. Even if the kid –Mikey you finally remembered –had been innocently interested in a relationship. The gestures sort of gave it away, and for once you were glad you weren’t in a boarding school; a Catholic one of all schools. You never quite got what religion and basic assessment of brain power had to do with one another.
It wasn’t that you had anything against religious people, but you did have something against people who preached to others and forgot to live by the man-composed document of voiced hypocrisy. Though you never studied it, you still thought the almighty Ten Commandments could really be composed into one since if you thoroughly tore it apart. Thievery was just a repeat in pretty much the other nine, why say the same thing ten times anyway.
Besides, you lived by fate, which ironically tied you to the handsome face that was looking at you coldly now that you turned back to look at him. You lost count of the years you two shared the same fate, and company but you still remembered how it came to be. His promise to always be your companion until you asked him to end your life.
“They’ve grown restless. Joe spotted most of them are carrying key chains that turn your sensors off with them.”
It was a mild excuse to keep anyone from touching you. The only one who had been able to get away with that had been the only boy there that was actively and ignorantly just your friend. He always had a blind eye for the strange and never seemed to question why you left suddenly from class or never let him come to your home.
“We will have a busy night then…”
You trailed off when you saw him turn his gaze away. It looked like he spotted something or he wasn’t paying you any attention. It was an important matter.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
You didn’t like how distant he sounded just then. He never sounded distant around you, at least not like this. It made him sound like he was hiding something, and you two never held secrets. The air about him smelled different than usual too.
“Be careful. The song on the wind isn’t very inviting.”
The scenery changed and you found his hand on your cheek. You almost couldn’t feel it because it seemed like it wasn’t even there. Those pale hands were now white with dark red tapered nails. His entire appearance changed except his face (minus the white skin.) It remained the same, except his eyes bore into yours, and there was an unsaid understanding before he withdrew contact from you. You hated when he did that, always so slow, like he wanted it to be sensual and to last.
Not that you didn’t mind sensual because you two were that close. But it also felt like it would be the last time in a long while he’d touch you like that. You didn’t want him going anywhere, it meant bad news.
“Patrick, where are you going?”
He said nothing as the scenery changed back to the hallway you were in before. But he was gone. Hollering after him would have only caused eyes to look at you. Your form didn’t change nearly as drastically as his had, but it still had changed a bit. You looked both ways before you took off through the hallway. You needed to find Joe. Wherever he went, you refused to let him go alone.