Another old one ^^ Few years ago I think.. This one I again just sat down and wrote, changing almost nothing from the first draft. Unusual...
I don't own Sailor Moon or any of its contained characters.
Credit goes to their respective owners.
Music for the Dance
To this day, I'll never understand what compelled me to take such a strong
interest in him. I laugh to think of it, a dry hollow sound, until tears
come. Such a fool I was! To think that I, the Timekeeper and servant to
Chronos himself, might be given a chance to know what others feel, to see
what others see. I, who hold the power to see into the past, present and
future have been missing out... I watch while people are born, grow up,
fall in love, and get married. I scoffed at their mistakes, laughed when
they cried, and took no interest in their deaths. And yet, that was all
I remember that day, and all those that followed, clearly, though I have
never yet allowed myself to relive it. The coolness and sweetness of the
day's breeze, the bright sun raining down, all of it unimportant because
suddenly he was there. Moving with a feline-like grace, but with none of
the arrogance, going neither too quickly nor too slowly, eyes never locked
on the same sight twice. Those eyes...his eyes...they pierced directly
through my body and held me tight, captive.
I can recall the way the light of the day seemed to be coming from him,
not above, sending all about into a radiant display of colors for me alone
to behold. And those two beautiful eyes, blazing in a blue that would turn
the gods themselves green with envy. He walked, seeing all there was to see,
knowing all there was to know. I watched, watched this boy, this soft
delicate angel, never letting my eyes stray from the vision until I couldn't
see him any longer.
After that day my life began to revolve around his. I lived for him and him
alone. Every day I would watch, and every day he would put on a new show for me. I saw how at ease he was with himself and all around him, how the other, less important, people would turn to stare at him in awe. He smiled at them all, a gift from above at its finest, but he never stopped his own watching, and walking.
As the days passed I became more and more intent on seeing my angel's every move. And every day it was different. He walked, rather danced, to the beating of his own heart. Every day that dance had been reworked, rewoven, into something so vastly different while remaining the same all at once. And the sound of his steps became the words to the song he played, for not a word did he ever speak.
I watched, memorized by his dances and song, feeling I would forever be held captive in those bits of heaven he had in his eyes. Every day, for longer than I could ever remember, I watched...
I was watching that day, a day that will haunt me through all of Time's
eternity. I was watching when he at last stopped.
That day he had Fate's cruelty pulled on him, held shakily in the hands of
one blind to my angel's brilliance. In that one crucial second, his music
ceased to play and the dance came to an end. I watched.
I joined, entered the dance with the sound of my own beating heart, coming
between this boy and Fate. I went to him, and gazed into eyes that saw
nothing, but had seen everything. I touched his brilliant skin and continued
on in his dance, echoing his steps with mine. He smiled, the direction of his eyes always changing, his own light shining over me, and played a new song and dance just for me.
He sang of life, and living, and of seeing nothing, and of seeing all. He
told me of all the knowledge of the world, and always having more to seek.
The song grew faster, speaking of the many mistakes we made, most of all
not to take life day by day as it comes. I became caught in the silent music, and found I could not tear away. I saw his sightless eyes gaze about, and did not wonder of what he saw. I only danced.
I watched...knew what could be, knew what I thought should be, knew of
the destiny I had been given, laughed over how much more my angel had seen than me...and watched the blood flow with the beating of the last drum.