That Image of me [Domlijah, NC-13]

AUTHOR: SAURA.
TITLE: That image of me
DATE: Originally written 19/11/03
PARING: Dominic / Elijah
DISCLAMER: I disclaim.
RATED: NC - 13
WARNINGS: fluff alert! Oh, and two bad words (2, just 2).
AUTHOR’S NOTE: written in 30 minutes (including editing and headings) in the middle of two novels and while supposing to be having lunch at work. It was writing this or enter a mental institution. You can’t imagine the hell of bureaucracy it is to enter one of those. O.o
I wrote this on my birthday. But I never dared to post it without a previous native-speaker beta first. So if you think the fic is beautiful, all credits go to [livejournal.com profile] vixalicious (who did an amazingly great work here). Whatever is bad done, it’s all my fault.


***

Elijah is tired of people telling him how perfect, how handsome, how beautiful he is. And the colour of his eyes, and his childlike expression, and his smile…

He’s also tired of people telling him to take care where he shoots those fucking freaking eyes of his, to be a little more adult, or to stop being so awfully perfect. So innocent, so energetic, and his teeth have a gap… Oops. Perfection broken, shit…

Elijah is tired of people that love him or hate him just for what they see of him. How can anybody love him just for the outline of his face, for the shape of his body, for his appearance or the colour of his skin or his eyes?

He doesn’t love people for their appearance, or at least, not their real appearance, the one you can see with your plain eyes. He loves a special image of people, of certain people; but it’s not an aspect that can be printed on a picture, not the look of someone imprinted on the back of his eyes; it’s the aura recorded on his heart that he loves. It’s the shadow of a smile, vaguely draw; the shape that warmness left graven; the memory of the colour of the eyes when the lids are closed.

Elijah closes his eyes and rests his head on the back of the couch. Dominic has a deep imprint on his heart, where he’s not the person Elijah sees every day, yet he still is. Where even his crooked smile is perfect. Where his eyes are not the ever-changing steel grey and ocean blue of reality, but an amazing blend of both colors. Where his cheeks are always curled up for a good joke. Where the lines of his body are warm and red, not defined but tangible all the way. And where his voice is always rumbling, always talking, whatever, but most of the times, is purring ‘I love you’-s to Elijah’s ears through closed lips.

The image of Dom his heart holds is always happy, is always moving, is all the time joking and tugging him and playing with him, and teasing him. The image of Dom inside his heart is bright and shines with its own light.

Elijah is in love with that image. And when Dominic leans and kisses him lightly on lips, making him open his eyes immediately and smile, the image of Dom he was staring at, that one in his heart, matches perfectly Dom’s real face, Dom’s real smile and eyes, Dom’s real body and warmness. It glows for a few seconds, surrounding Dom, and then, slowly it fades away.

But it is still on his heart.

“I love you” Elijah murmurs, and Dom smiles, leaning close to him again, and kissing him lightly.

“I love you too” he purrs.

Elijah wonders if Dominic has an image of him inside his heart where his eyes are not freaky-blue, where his smile is not childlike, where he doesn’t giggle or where his teeth are fine. And if Dominic has it, he wonders if when Dominic opens his eyes in the morning if that image of the inner Elijah also shines over his real body, like Dom’s image has done just now; and if that’s the reason why Dominic loves him too.

The end.


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