Quote:
Got permission to slightly pilot Nat for this. :]
Quote:
Prompt 2 (Holiday Blues): One day, in the very early morning hours, a strange, bluish fog rolls in. It floats low to the ground and is incredibly dense and incredibly cold. Anyone who inhales even a single breath from this fog will be met with a sudden, harsh sensation of sadness. It’s the worst part of the holidays—the Holiday Blues. The fog slowly spreads through the town and is gone by mid afternoon, but the sensation of sadness, loneliness, and nostalgia may linger for longer than that. Scientists are explaining the bluish tint as just being a natural phenomenon, but in Destiny City, ‘natural’ isn’t really something anyone should expect. Today would have been a good day to stay inside.
It was a crappy day-
Well, no, that hardly encompassed the magnitude of distraught Basyl felt as he collected his coat and bag from his locker and slunk out the rear exit of the hospital after his shift. Inherently, a hospital in Destiny City was not really an uplifting place to work. It was a large complex for their huge population, and they dealt with all manner of physical traumas from the unusually high rate of accidents in the city. A handful of which Basyl knew- knew- could not be recovered from. He hadn’t really fully grasped the path he’d tread on when he first started med school, but it became a little clearer when he awoke as a senshi.
And then the picture became bigger the longer he worked at the hospital. The image sharper when he intimately involved himself with the Negaverse. And now…
Now there were days when it was overwhelmingly depressing.
This city was depressing. Everything that happened here was just designed to trample over anyone who lived within its borders- it didn’t even matter what side they were on or who they fought for or if they didn’t fight and didn’t know. Just… a dreadful place to exist, really…
He dragged his coat on as he stepped outside to the crunch of snow beneath his feet. He and Nataniel would come and go together when Basyl had a daytime shift, but if he was to be kept late, Basyl insisted he would make it home just fine on his own. He always had before they’d met, and he was a grown adult who did not need to be tended to. Years ago, he’d take the bus, but since he could mirrorwalk, he figured he’d save himself the time. And it was certainly cheaper than buying a car and gas. …And mirrorwalking was probably no more dangerous than riding the bus, anyway.
But even though he said he could and would and wanted to manage alone, as soon as Basyl stepped out into the dim and cloudy early morning, the weight of the previous night pressed down on him like a physical entity, and he wished Nataniel was here to drive him home
They were right at the holidays. It felt like people should be- oh, he didn’t know… In their homes, being together, safe… Not an entirely fair thought, since he was sure at least a small portion of hospital visits truly were just accidents that occurred around the house: a knife wound carving a turkey, or a broken arm from falling from a ladder while decorating.
And then those people wound up in the hospital, alone, waiting for someone to come see them. Some would tell Basyl about their kids or grandkids as he did his rounds. There was a good sampling of mild injuries, those who might miss a day or two of festivities, but would go home and be fine. And then there was another portion that wasn't doing as well. Maybe an ‘animal’ had attacked them, or they’d had a ‘heart attack.’ People whose holidays were ruined, whose lives were over.
The reality of living in this city.
Basyl curled into the collar of his coat, barely taking in the misty appearance outside as he trudged toward the mirror he kept within walking distance of his work. A quick step and Narcissus was striding out of its pair in the neighborhood of his house. He kept his pace brisk. He wanted to be home, out of the cold, wanted his bed, wanted-
Well, he had to keep it together at least until he made it in the front door, or-
Or- no, longer than that. He hardly wanted to look a mess in front of Nataniel. He loved his fiance, but Nat was hardly… Mmm… Basyl didn’t really feel confident in self expression of strong negative emotions. And he didn’t think ‘letting it out’ would help him feel better. He told himself he was sniffling from the cold as he pushed open the back door to his house.
His bag landed with a ’thunk’ on the floor as he unclipped it from over his shoulder. The rest of his garments followed quickly and in particular disarray. Boots kicked haphazardly by the door, coat dropped at the foot of the stairs, shirt shed in the hallway to their bedroom, pants dropped at the foot of the bed. He’d usually shower after work- he should shower after work. Clean up before he crawled into bed.
But he didn’t. Just slid beneath the covers, plastering himself atop the firm plane of heat that was his fiance, still asleep at this odd hour of morning.
“...Basyl?”
His voice was low and gravelly- it was odd for Basyl to just come and lay on him. Odd for Basyl to do anything that might impose on him while Nataniel slept. …And Basyl became aware of this only after the words were in the air. That he was being strange, that he was being selfish. He sniffed, hid his face in the crook of Nataniel’s neck as Basyl’s arms tucked up beneath his lover’s shoulders.
“S-sorry…” He whispered. And then he thought his voice might give something away, something about him being unhappy when he’d prefer it kept hidden. Nataniel shouldn’t be bothered with it. Except that train of thought hardly worked out at all as Nat’s hand came up to rub up and down his arm.
“Oh, love…”
He still sounded a little sleep-dazed. It usually took significant effort to wake Nataniel.
“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Basyl croaked. “Just please, p-please, don’t talk, just…” There was a silent war between them, Basyl could feel it. A particular tension they both carried. Basyl caught between wanting what he thought would be easiest for Nat and also needing to simply take a moment of comfort. While Nataniel tried to decide if it was appropriate lover behavior to do as Basyl asked. …It was what Basyl had asked, but should he do more..?
His hand still petted slowly up and down Basyl’s arm.
That tension might’ve lasted for minutes or seconds. It was impossible to tell. It drained in imperceptible increments, until Nat’s palm was still against him and his breathing had turned slow and heavy, slipping back into unconsciousness. That was fine. It was! Basyl could take what he needed. Still and quiet, wreathed in the warmth of their bed, inhaling the familiar scent of spices coming off his fiance.
Basyl wouldn’t sleep, and ‘happy’ was a far-fetched pipe dream for the moment, but he could at least find a derivative of peace here. Something like it, in this moment.
