ext_71865 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
wheresmytower.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fellowshippers2005-10-07 12:28 am
wheresmytower.livejournal.com) wrote in fellowshippers2005-10-07 12:28 am
(no subject)
Title: Nonremembrance
Pairing: V/S
Genre: ...closest to angst, perhaps?
Rating: PG
Length: around 300 words
Summary: An almost confession by Viggo
There was a when that meant he'd loved. There are no specific memories he cares to remember, no visions of a future for them, no haunting presence or unnerving empty places to keep that name sacred, to make it unforgettable. There are no keepsakes or reminders too cherished or too feared to remain unseparated. There's no regret left, no hidden desire for more or for something to have happened differently. No reason to dwell on him.
Desensitization is both a merciful and a lethal force, but even it has limits. Eyes can lose their radiance, bodies revert to the proximity of friend or acquaintance, associations be ceased or rewired. But some connections never completely obey. His emotion for Sean had long since lost its power of loneliness. Its capacity for intrusive textures, its mixture of stinging waves and heartbreaking silks, and even its erotic leathers have coalesed, fading into some poorly defined area of Viggo's being.
It can't be nostalgia because he doesn't miss him, not really, and it's not quite memory because the actual occurences aren't what's important, lying barely distinguishable within the swell. It isn't much of anything most of the time. That's why Viggo seldom remembers it's there, why when he does his vague surprise proves more than enough to gloss over any remote currents that might still be pulling. But somehow he knows that something strong, if not powerful, still ebbs and flows in that nebulous darkness. And sometimes he lets himself drift.
If asked whether he was still romantically attached to Sean, Viggo would answer 'no.' If faced with the question of reviving their relationship, or at any rate their physical passion, at a later date, the reply would be the same.
But if Viggo had to give a name to the gentle sway of this nonremembrance, this nonresignation, then Viggo would call it 'love.'
Pairing: V/S
Genre: ...closest to angst, perhaps?
Rating: PG
Length: around 300 words
Summary: An almost confession by Viggo
There was a when that meant he'd loved. There are no specific memories he cares to remember, no visions of a future for them, no haunting presence or unnerving empty places to keep that name sacred, to make it unforgettable. There are no keepsakes or reminders too cherished or too feared to remain unseparated. There's no regret left, no hidden desire for more or for something to have happened differently. No reason to dwell on him.
Desensitization is both a merciful and a lethal force, but even it has limits. Eyes can lose their radiance, bodies revert to the proximity of friend or acquaintance, associations be ceased or rewired. But some connections never completely obey. His emotion for Sean had long since lost its power of loneliness. Its capacity for intrusive textures, its mixture of stinging waves and heartbreaking silks, and even its erotic leathers have coalesed, fading into some poorly defined area of Viggo's being.
It can't be nostalgia because he doesn't miss him, not really, and it's not quite memory because the actual occurences aren't what's important, lying barely distinguishable within the swell. It isn't much of anything most of the time. That's why Viggo seldom remembers it's there, why when he does his vague surprise proves more than enough to gloss over any remote currents that might still be pulling. But somehow he knows that something strong, if not powerful, still ebbs and flows in that nebulous darkness. And sometimes he lets himself drift.
If asked whether he was still romantically attached to Sean, Viggo would answer 'no.' If faced with the question of reviving their relationship, or at any rate their physical passion, at a later date, the reply would be the same.
But if Viggo had to give a name to the gentle sway of this nonremembrance, this nonresignation, then Viggo would call it 'love.'