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[Fic] PW, "Good Night"
It's Tanabata in Japan! (Well, sort of.) Therefore, Mia and Diego.
This is the angsty one. Proper Tanabata fic will be posted tomorrow!
Title: Good Night
Words: 375
Pairing: Mia/Diego
Rating: PG
Summary: Diego, his last moments, and Mia.
Prompt: "Maya!Mia visits Godot in the hospital, they talk about his fear of his impending death." (There was more to the prompt, but that was the only relevant part.)
"Now here's... here's a funny thing, kitten. A last, particular blend I've been longing to taste, too long in the brewing already... one I've been near enough before to smell its aroma..."
A pause, for a long and shuddering breath. He's all but choking on air, his lungs too weak to easily draw what he needs. She waits patiently, tightening her borrowed hands around his.
"But now that I hold it in my hands, kitten, now... the funny thing is, it's still too bitter, after all."
She moves one hand to cup his cheek, trace the roughness of his beard. It's longer than it should be; he no longer has the energy to keep it trimmed neat and rakish.
"It was bitter for me too," she says softly.
"Ha...!" The familiar laugh is pale, coming out on a wheeze. "It should be sweeter, then, for the sharing."
The smile falls away slowly, and he squeezes her hand; she thinks of midnights in her apartment, artful caresses, reassuring weight on her shoulder and callused skin against her smooth cheek.
His grip is faltering.
She strokes his cheekbone with her thumb, and he sighs; eyes slide shut that were useless in any case, and when he speaks his voice is nothing more than a whisper:
"But still, I..."
"Hush, now," she soothes, leaning down to kiss his forehead. The hair that falls down around them is almost too long, the scent not the same, the color all wrong even if he could see it, and it troubles her a moment that she can't give him perfection, in these last moments.
But this is what they have.
"Sing me a lullaby, kitten," he murmurs. "What kind of dreams are waiting for me tonight?"
"You can tell me that yourself, when it's time," she says softly; she trails her fingers over his straining heart. "You can tell me, and we'll dream together."
He gasps, harsh and abrupt, and rides out a series of shuddering coughs.
"Mia," he says, his voice thin and breaking, "I'm afraid."
"Don't be," she says, and she pulls him up out of the bed, holds him tight and close. "It's time to sleep, Diego."
Against the bare skin of her throat, she feels his tears.
This is the angsty one. Proper Tanabata fic will be posted tomorrow!
Title: Good Night
Words: 375
Pairing: Mia/Diego
Rating: PG
Summary: Diego, his last moments, and Mia.
Prompt: "Maya!Mia visits Godot in the hospital, they talk about his fear of his impending death." (There was more to the prompt, but that was the only relevant part.)
"Now here's... here's a funny thing, kitten. A last, particular blend I've been longing to taste, too long in the brewing already... one I've been near enough before to smell its aroma..."
A pause, for a long and shuddering breath. He's all but choking on air, his lungs too weak to easily draw what he needs. She waits patiently, tightening her borrowed hands around his.
"But now that I hold it in my hands, kitten, now... the funny thing is, it's still too bitter, after all."
She moves one hand to cup his cheek, trace the roughness of his beard. It's longer than it should be; he no longer has the energy to keep it trimmed neat and rakish.
"It was bitter for me too," she says softly.
"Ha...!" The familiar laugh is pale, coming out on a wheeze. "It should be sweeter, then, for the sharing."
The smile falls away slowly, and he squeezes her hand; she thinks of midnights in her apartment, artful caresses, reassuring weight on her shoulder and callused skin against her smooth cheek.
His grip is faltering.
She strokes his cheekbone with her thumb, and he sighs; eyes slide shut that were useless in any case, and when he speaks his voice is nothing more than a whisper:
"But still, I..."
"Hush, now," she soothes, leaning down to kiss his forehead. The hair that falls down around them is almost too long, the scent not the same, the color all wrong even if he could see it, and it troubles her a moment that she can't give him perfection, in these last moments.
But this is what they have.
"Sing me a lullaby, kitten," he murmurs. "What kind of dreams are waiting for me tonight?"
"You can tell me that yourself, when it's time," she says softly; she trails her fingers over his straining heart. "You can tell me, and we'll dream together."
He gasps, harsh and abrupt, and rides out a series of shuddering coughs.
"Mia," he says, his voice thin and breaking, "I'm afraid."
"Don't be," she says, and she pulls him up out of the bed, holds him tight and close. "It's time to sleep, Diego."
Against the bare skin of her throat, she feels his tears.
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I'd been looking for some inspiration to write for my OTP, and I think this is it.
Fantastic job for something so short.
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