Post Olympic

Moonlight

uh hi

YEAH BABY IT'S FUCKIN TIMMMMMEEEE

MUSIC: Don't Tell Me - Ruel

-rabid ;)

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-FENRIR-

I'm not, doing, okay.

I'm fuzzy in the head, my body aches everywhere.

They knocked me out last night and I woke up funny, Hadley had to drive me home.

I signed myself out of the hospital way too early.

I'm over eighteen, that was allowed.

Holy hell do I look fucking horrible.

My beard is still not growing in like I want it too, it's kind of spotty on just one side. I've got circles under my eyes and I haven't been able to shower after the game. One of the cuts from one of my fights still hasn't healed over all the way and it's a red mark under an eye. I'm sweaty, greasy, gross, sick, disgusting. I'm in no condition to talk to Nico.

I run my hand through my hair and then try to fill my time. Greenie just told me that Jorgen just picked her up and she's coming over right now.

I'm more nervous about this than I've ever been in my entire life.

So I end up standing in the kitchen, staring out the window at the street, looking desperately for Jorgen's teal Prius.

Then I look at the fridge, I open it, close it, open it again, like there's going to be a miracle in there, then close it when it's just lettuce.

The door moves and I have the instinct to just pass out.

But I don't, by some god-given miracle.

Nico doesn't say anything. I don't either. She's just standing in the door, kinda staring at me, kinda giving a distant look, like she's staring past me.

I'm leaning on the counter, rather unsure if I can actually stand on my own.

Nico is beautiful. I'm frozen. She's stunning. Dazzling. Fascinating.

Delicate, in a way.

Her legs close the space between us slowly, if she touches me, I'll explode like a bomb.

I watch her fingers reach out, they're thin, angelic. She stops, just out of reach of me, her fingers millimeters away from my chest. We're both staring at them. I can feel the heat in the room rise.

Her nails are chewed in a small way, near the edges, but they're longer than I expected. Her skin looks soft, gentle. Quite like the gold leaf feeling of sunshine. Gentle, light, warm, but when the wind blows, gone. I look over her knuckles, up the scars along her fingers, across each nail scrape on her arms, across each scar on her. Up to her eyes.

Moonlight. She reminds me of moonlight. Beautiful, subtle, breathtaking. Moonlight that falls on new snow, a blue-white look that reminds me of softer sunshine. The moonlight that makes snow look like it fell from heaven. Like millions of angels crafted each snowflake just for you to look at, to experience individually the beauty of the extremities that lie within.

Like millions of angels crafted her to perfection, and only she gets to pick who gets to experience her beautiful depths.

Her hand closes our distance, and I watch it, laying flat on my chest. She's feeling my heartbeat. Her fingers are warm, gentle on my chest. Laying there softly, making me flood with her moonlight.