He touched her wings.
"My God..." he said;
"they're beautiful" he said.
She smiled indulgently and spread her paper thin wings to
their full breadth. Light from the candles on the low table behind her spilled
through them, bathing him in a soft particoloured glow. She realised she'd forgotten
the colour of his eyes. His work had kept them apart so long, she'd forgotten
many of the little things...those things one sees every day, and never notices
gone 'til one sees them again. In this light, though, his eyes were a dark green
-- blue if she leaned to the left.
He praised her beauty again. His Japanese was halting at
best, but hers was enough to give a native speaker apoplexia. However, this
was their time alone. By mutual agreement, it was all they spoke when they were
alone; maybe someday they'd speak it well, but not today. The occasional English-sounding
words they spoke --kohii, tabako-- were necessities rather than indulgences;
Japanese contains no native words for coffee or cigarettes.
She thought about the differences between them --joking half
arguments that kept their relationship entertaining. She liked hot sake; he
didn't drink. He drank ocha like tomorrow wouldn't come; her tastes ran to Earl
Grey. She hated dogs; he hated cats -- that was just as well, pets were as bad
as kids, in her opinion, and if she recalled correctly they shared a certain
distaste for children.
Thousands of miles apart in the fleshlands, here in this
pocket of void, there was barely breathing room between them. He was still kneeling
on his pillow as she reached out to stroke his face. Here, they could be anything
they liked; she had only added wings, he, implanted mirrorshades. She thought
he looked spectacular in them, puns aside, but she found herself lost for words.
She fell to her knees and threw her arms around him. Maybe
here he was just pixels, she admitted to herself, but he was still pixel-perfect.
She had dreamed, on the nights she could sleep, of the day when their tiny room
would be complete. So many images, so much code, had gone into just this one
tiny room. It was so clean it ate an entire server. She shivered at the thought.
"Me or disk space?" he asked her, smiling impishly.
*sigh* He knew her so well.
"Disk space."
"Yeah...but isn't it great to have that kind of storage to
just throw around?"
She didn't deign to answer that one. One raised eyebrow and
a split second later, she was kissing him. He toppled backward to the wood floor.
*eep!* (her)
*oof* (him)
They lay in a tangled heap for a moment. He looked up at
her. 'oh really?' his expression seemed to say.
"Sensory test?" she offered, with a hugely cheesy sheepish
grin. It was one of those looks that in anime is usually accompanied by the
appearance of a large cartoonish drop of sweat on the forehead. She realised
she could make that happen here if she wanted. The very thought made her toes
crackle.
"Hmph." he replied, unceremoniously dumping her on the floor
next to him. He reached for his tea. She saw through his faux morality without
even looking up, and he knew it.
She took the tea from his hand and replaced it on the table.
She blew out the one candle.
"Tonight..." she whispered to her pixellated lover.
"Yes..." came the reply.
*
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Street Exit
VonGraeding '99