Teach me to create a beautiful past [Faith/Nate]

[welshchick1201]

In this sea of change, understanding is our shore
I disappear...with no control
The current is strong, my arms are weak
But you are the branch within my reach
Though I cannot catch my breath...

Currents - Sleeping At Last

Haha sorry the title doesn't really relate in the slightest < v >
//spentlongeronlyricsthanIdidtheactualposeLOL

Sorry for the spam too ; v ;
In fact I'm sorry for almost everything to do with this post haha))

---
The chapter we called Hell in this story we’re living has finally come to an end. Everything had begun returning to normal. Everyone would return to the academy soon enough too, meaning...

Well, he hardly needed to say it aloud, did he? Besides that, Nate Sinclair was happy to remain virtually mute as he had been the past week especially. Faith’s plush voice had robbed him of his own, it seemed, which was such terrible metaphorical irony it was almost laughable. Almost. Though honestly, he was just relived the nightmare was over. The past two months or so had been... Well, there wasn’t a suitable word to describe how the event people had started nicknaming ‘Last Man Standing’ made people feel. Those women had used the term enough times that the title just stuck really. Another event to add to the history book of Scream Academy it would seem...How many events could he list from memory? Vampire Hunt, Pouring Rain, now Last Man Standing. They should really invest in some pest control, another thought the vampire found hilarious but not really.

Nate thought back to some students talking about some celebratory get together in the common rooms, but it hardly appealed to him. In fact, not even his room mates and their plans for the night had appealed to him, as harsh as it sounded. Like it or not, Nate had one person he wanted to see and spend the night with, because he’d been gone far too long. And ironically Nate decided that the best place to go to see Faith Flynn tonight would be the graveyard: home of the dead. Well, Nate could pretend he was funny with his bad irony and half-assed nostalgia.

The graveyard was their first date after all. Ok, so maybe not, but they were idiots and liked to pretend it to be. The point was Nate could hardly pester Ramiel further than he already had the past couple of weeks, so he’d have to find Faith on his own. Nostalgia was something of a bitch, especially nowadays, but it was the best Nate could think of. If not for Faith’s own nostalgia he would sure enough come by the graveyard to do some robbing anyway, so it was as good a place to wait as any.

Though nostalgia isn’t always a bad thing, not when you have the right memories to look back on. And Nate did enjoy looking back on night, for both the good and the bad. That ‘date’ was pretty nice, even if they weren’t dating at the time. Nate was no idiot, and he knew Faith was teasing him out of nothing much pure self amusement. He had no feelings for the vampire at that point in time, or if he did he did a pretty good job at hiding them behind mindless flirts. But the night was still nice, even if it did start with robbing from a grave (a new experience, right?). It led onto hugging each other and the occasional kiss mind you, so it was overall a nice night. Minus the whole attacking Faith later on, but they agreed to not bring that up. Accidents happen, after all.

I wonder if he decided to quit smoking or not. Maybe a second death changed his habits...? Hmm, doubt it...

Memories held nothing in comparison to the real thing, though. Nothing would ever compare to Faith Flynn, nothing... How could Nate stand not hearing his voice reverberating through the academy’s empty corridors? Or the incantations Faith would softly slur in his ear after dark, both equally as drunk off each other’s presence? How could the vampire bear to breathe those all but meaningless breaths without taking in his scent? How could he stare at himself in the mirror without noticing how hideously perfect and plain his complexion was without the black sharpie hearts covering his skin, or the love bites plaguing his neck like a beautiful disease he had no desire of being cursed of. He wanted to be plagued by Faith Flynn, to have his every entity infect his thoughts, his dreams.

Does he still smell the same? Act the same? Look the same? I-- This is ridiculous. Of course he does. The idiot's hardly changed, I bet...

So the brunette sat there in that black uniform lined with Tien’s colours, knees clutched against his chest while his mind filled with thoughts of the ghoul he loved too much to explain in words. His eyes and their boring dull shade of green were squinting up against evening light threatening to shy away at any moment. Sure, it was getting dark, but vampires didn’t see, well, not seeing as a problem. After all, if you fed frequently (ok so Nate was guilty of not doing this but what difference did it make?) you could see just as well in the night as you could the day. Good thing too, because he’d be damned if he couldn’t see his boyfriends face after waiting this damn long.

Has he seen Ramiel yet? He better had, because I swear if he hasn't that'll be the first thing we do.

Minutes past, though they felt like hours when you were waiting for someone (or so epitome-of-teenage-girl Nate concluded). Anxiety gnawed at him from all around the longer he replayed the words he’ll say to his boyfriend (when he finally meets up with him again, that is). What do you say to someone who died (again)? The air was perfect, tonight. The night would be perfect, and yet he felt ill to the bone. Why? He let out a sigh and stared up at the dying sky in hopes of not thinking about it all so much. However, it took him all of a second to realise that was an impossible task when you add Faith Flynn into the equation.

You’re driving me crazy and you haven’t even got here yet. Thanks, Faith...

[Meduzia]

Breathe in and then breathe out. Keep calm. Keep very, very calm. Some people said 'Don't look below' but on training everybody would always say 'Watch out for what's under you'. Faith Flynn knew there was no danger for him underneath. Well... if you could ignore the fact that he was dangling from the window on third floor of the Academy. He didn't know his best friend was in similar predicament only few weeks ago, although Ramiel did tell him about that. Their situations were greatly different though. Ramiel was forced to flee the fire demon. Faith, on the other hand, chose this himself.

He has never felt so trapped in his life... Well he has, once, when he was buried alive for weeks on end. When he first returned to life, when it was pure coincidence he was freed. And being in his own room made him feel like prisoner, his own skin was too tight and suffocating him and he took almost twenty four hours to remember just who he was... who he is. And he remembered, the shock of his second awakening gone and... well this was Faith Flynn. Whoever expected him to lay still surely didn't know a bit about him.

Still, here, climbing down the window to his room without (miraculously) waking Ramiel up, he felt like he hasn't moved for... well, two months. Of course, his body gradually stopped aching and he was back to his own 'status quo' - not feeling a damn thing - but movement was sort of limited by the pain he didn't feel. Still, he told himself, he did this hundred times. He just needed some fresh air (admittedly, this wasn't the best place to take it). One step down, another one, jump to that window on the side because there Rio is and flee from this window because that accursed woman in black is looking outside before she moves. Damn, he was sure they would feel him. It was always like that, with them, women. That's why he didn't even bother, aside from the fact that he never truly found them attractive (he could appreciate a well-built woman... in his mind something more closer to man than woman itself). Finally he was at first floor and debating if he could jump down. He could. The distance wasn't really something he couldn't take. He has jumped from larger. He has jumped from Academy's belfry for god's sake. It was just... he didn't exactly want to overestimate his own body and do more damage.

While majority of injuries have healed nicely, he still wasn't 'all good'. No, the faint, red burn was still visible around his eyes even though the blue eye disappeared completely. Thank you regeneration, but it still wasn't good enough. Right side of his cheek, towards his neck, still bore something akin to scabs because he was the idiot that couldn't wash his face without 'accidentally' touching the wound. He shouldn't be the one blamed for the fact they peeled off quickly, leaving portions of black underneath as his blood was black. Then from that point, on both of his cheeks, light traces that indicated cutting. That was probably the worse that remained, but at least he could talk. God knows he loves talking. Those would heal in another day or two anyway. Then there was his once-dislocated-arm. That healed nicely, even though the difference was still tad obvious. His left arm had less freckles and it appeared to be brighter gray because of regeneration, something he will deal with accordingly (by that he means long sleeves, unless he forgets which... he surely will).

But he was done debating and he jumped anyway. Flynn did the wrong assumption anyway, but not in the matter of distance or his own body, oh no. He landed the wrong way, falling at awkward angle to he decided to have his knee take the pressure anyway. And ghoul also got away with it, because he was on the ground with more or less no sound and he was unharmed. Good, then. He got up and noticed his knee was wet and only then noticed he was in his sleepwear.... This revival thing didn't do him too good it seemed. Not to his body, not to his memory.

And not to his skills either because only now he was able to pick out a vampireish scent. Oh dear. Oh dear. No time, there was no time to go back and get more decent (come on this shirt was too big even for him and.... he had no pants). No time to go back and maybe be held there again to the point where he suffocated in claustrophobia he didn't know he had. No, no. ... it's been two months. How do you meet somebody you haven't seen for two months? How do you meet somebody you haven't been there for, for two months? Nate probably... he likely forgot all about Faith, he found somebody else, somebody who was more supportive, not as incompetent as the ghoul himself, somebody who would always be there anyway... But Faith hoped, oh god.

And then he truly-- it has been two months. And the only explanation to 'How have I lived two months without him' was 'I didn't'. He was dead and that was the only logical explanation. Almost as if kicked out of his trance, Faith moved, slowly at first and then running towards the graveyard, trying not to trip over random things, barefoot as he was. How did he climb down the facade like this? Who knows... He could now see Nate as well, his back turned to him and he was right, even though his best guess was Nate (OK, not best guess, best hope but oh well).

And he doesn't really know how he managed to get this far and his arm was aching once again (goddamn it, he wasn't even using it...) and he did trip but he was able to grab on to the object of his desire and he did not fall down. Well.. he did, on his knees, so he would be in level with the vampire. Ghoul wound his arms around the other. How many times, in past 24 hours since awakening, had he thought about this? About how he won't meet him before he healed and he won't be looking this hideous in front of the other. But he did, because self-control was something Flynn knew well, but at times, he would let it go completely. Like now, when he was pushing his face into the crook of Nate's neck so not to be visible (come on, this usually went the other way around, unless he was giving him lovebites... speaking of which, he should make some as soon as possible).

He has completely regarded the fact that he probably caught Nate off-guard. That he was maybe (probably, likely) waiting for somebody else. That Nate may not even know he was back and would be startled, think he was attack, maybe attack him too (even if he thought about the 'attack' he wouldn't be too worried - vampire would surely recognize him). Unconsciously he raised his arm to brush his own hair behind his freckled ear, willing his mind not to think of how messy and uneven it was. Damn that woman. Damn this whole thing.

At least there was Nate.

[welshchick1201]

But no seriously Last Man Standing was a bitch. Everyone suffered, because everyone lost someone they were close to. Nate and Ramiel had lost Faith (the person, not the religion. That pun was never going to get old), Áine lost Tony briefly who later lost his mother, Rashida. And they were the easier examples to give. People still questioned why those women did it in the first place, but no one would give us any answers. Most staff says they don’t know anything, but could we really trust their word?

Well, whatever. Not like any of it matters now, right? It was over. Though, the memories would last no doubt. And after all this time, Nate still couldn’t decide which of the ‘events’ had been worse for him. Definitely a tossup between Aeshma and the ten days worth of fears they shared with a partner, for two very different reasons. It’s no secret that fire is a vampire’s weakness, after all, and no surprise that Aeshma’s flames were the worst pain imaginable. You’d think that was an over exaggeration wouldn’t you? It wasn’t to Nate. Not even dying had been that bad (it was a rather quick flick of the wrist, knife to the throat. Honestly, he couldn’t even remember half of it). The memories of Aeshma were...Not pleasant, not in the slightest.

But on the other hand, there were those nightmares everyone had to put up with. That was so emotionally draining, fearing something you normally wouldn’t be afraid of. You could be screaming at yourself ‘this isn’t my fear, this isn’t what I’m afraid of’ but you’d still be terrified, no matter what. Nate thought back to Chalk’s fear, with the mysterious man called ‘The Master’ and his horrible gaze through the steel bars of that cage. Ten nights of emotional pain, ten nights of more suffering...

Though there were the talking toys too, which admittedly broke Nate in a way he didn’t realise was possible until it actually happened. Physically shuddering the thought away, Nate vowed not to tell Faith about any of it. The mutilated appearance he had for a number of days thanks to Aeshma, the nightmares he obtained from his partner Chalk, hearing Faith’s voice from that plush (he made sure to throw it away the second he could). Faith didn’t need to know about any of it, he didn’t need to use his imagination for such things. Faith never needed to use his imagination for such things...

Faith. How many nights had he lain awake thinking about Faith? Well, the question was rhetorical: he stayed awake every night thinking about the ghoul. The thoughts would start off pretty innocent; with him picturing Faith’s all too perfect appearance, or his crazy madman laughter that would form out of nowhere. Oh man, he loved loved loved that laugh... But thoughts don’t stay innocent, not for too long. Curiosity and its questions started to rise. How had Faith died? Was it painless? Agonising? So many thoughts on him, his death, had found their way into the vampires head. And he started to panic, at the thought of Faith being in pain in his last moments, because if there’s one thing Nathaniel Sinclair could do well, it was panic.

Oh, and talking about panic, well... If Nate hadn’t caught the ghouls scent before he latched onto him, he... hyperventilating expert himself (not too proudly admitting his furture actions) would have attacked Faith for the second time of knowing each other. That would have been awkward. Very. Not that attacking Faith or not was an issue, since he was just so taken aback by the fact there was someone clinging to him—wait, now burying his face into Nate’s hideously pale skin, too (no really, he was almost the same colour as snow. So bloodless it made his veins show up like illuminated neon signs, ew). Quite frankly, Nate had no idea why everything was happening so fast, but he went along with it (because his other option would be to attack his boyfriend, and c'mon that just wasn't going to happen now was it?)

Sure, perplexed teen had waited for this moment for months. But Faith was here, so what now? What did he say? How did Nate choose his words? All he had to do was talk like they use to, but vampire’s mind suddenly went blank. What did he sound like when they use to talk? Did he pitch his voice high? Low? Was he curt to Faith? Did any of that even matter?

Nate had no idea what to say to him, and it was tearing him apart. It was funny, how paper-like he was in this moment. He had worn his teacher’s eye on his finger, lived ten days of torture (two months of it, really) been burnt and sent into a world of pure pain, and still not broken, still not let himself resort to ashes (metaphorically speaking, of course). After all those trials and events, the one thing to kill him was seeing Faith again. Seeing Faith and not having a single damn thing to say to him, that’s what hurt more than those women could even dream of achieving.

Trembling. Oh, God, he was trembling so badly. Faith was here, he was really really here (shamelessly in his underwear too, no less). Two months later, and he could finally touch him, finally hold him once again. Nate no longer needed to imagine the other’s scent, or how it felt to run his fingertips across the surface of his skin. Needless to say, Nate didn’t falter to cling to the other as if his very life depended on it. He also didn’t falter to kiss Faith’s head, albeit a little harder than intended, but the thought was there.

“Oh God, you—you’re actually here! And you’re in your sleepwear.” – First words to say to boyfriend after returning from the dead for the second time (or assumedly second)? Nailed them. Sure, his voice was shaking, and the words were hushed, but nailed it all the same. Though he had no intention of leaving it at that, oh no. He just...needed to find the words he wanted to say first.

It seemed that all those reruns of this scene where completely wrong. After all, imagining the scene was very different to living it, to feeling every damn emotion that came with it. For example, the brunette was laughing, at a time like this. It was just so funny, because he pictured it so much differently to this (Faith was fully dressed, for one). Laughing, and crying. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying, since he wasn’t what you’d call an ugly crier. No wailing, no sobbing (no noise at all, really). No ugly expressions like curling of the lips or strange frowning of the eyebrows. But, well, he was sensitive, that much was no lie (roommates knew this first hand, unfortunately for them). It was hardly a surprise their reunion brought him to tears, but he wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon. Oh well.

No, Nate was happy to laugh and cry and press Faith Flynn into his body closer than ever before because he wanted nothing more in this moment than to be near the ghoul. Hell, he was more than aware he was hugging poor Faith too tightly (his knuckles would have been white if there were any colour to his complexion to begin with), his hands as full of Faith’s shirt as they could get, but he couldn’t help himself.

Never again would he let Faith go. Never again. Never...

[Meduzia]

Once more he became overly sensitive to everything, everything... He could feel the vampire around himself and he enjoyed every moment of it, every sensation he would get just by sitting here, in his embrace, and just-- feeling. Just absorb everything that was around him, everything that was Nate. And said Nathaniel Sinclair might have as well been contagious because Faith was shivering now and he was never, never shivering. He couldn't tell if it was because of how sensitive he was after awakening or because of the forve of everything he was feeling... he suspected it was the later, unwilling to admit he might be more human, more vulnerable. Whatever it was, Faith Flynn was quaking like he had been running a really high fever for hours on end and in the sheer force of it, he almost missed Nate kiss his head. But he didn't, because it was forceful and Nate never did forceful and that was something Faith would remember (something he would joke about, even, but not now, certainly not now that he was barely sane).

The decisions, decisions. He wanted to move his head away, to kiss Nate back, he wanted, so badly, but that meant moving away from his embrace, that meant showing his own injuries and he was didn't want to worry the vampire further - while Ramiel has tried to fill his aching head on everything that went on, Faith wasn't really following... but he was pretty sure the students had it better than him. He was, after all, 'only' dead. He did nothing, he spent two months in the coffin and he felt like legal alien in Academy, in his Academy. He didn't need to burden Nate with more and he wouldn't want to answer the questions of 'What?', 'How?' and 'When?', not yet at least. He will have time for large talks, for explanations... but not now. Not right now, he couldn't bare to do it.

"I--" - he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry so he did neither. He only stood there, smiling like idiot, not that his boyfriend could see it. He was smiling, odd scars making his smile appear even wider and thank God Nate couldn't see him. He wasn't ashamed - he was just.. just... he was flustered. And Nate tended to make him feel self-conscious and Faith both loved and hated that feeling and the way he was feeling uneasy and at peace at the same time around him. He hasn't felt like that in long time and he didn't mean only the Last Man Standing thing. He meant - before he even met Nate.

"I'm just so tired." - he admittedly, thinking this would be enough of the explanation for his attire. He supposed not having pants was giving him anyway a bit. It wasn't that he was too tired for getting them on, he was too tired, too absent-minded right now to even remember them in the first place. He just--- was this normal? He knew for some people it was, but he felt useless, weak. How can one climb down the ancient stone building and not notice they were missing (almost all of) their clothing? This was beyond him. He thinks, vaguely, that if he dies once again, he'll go crazy, definitely. Things like that happen, to ghouls especially. So he just can't die again.

He can't feel like this. Not-- not what he was currently feeling, not that. Just... helpless, desperate. Would he be willing to admit that it was Nate he thought before he died, among other people? No, not really... Just like the first time he died, he thought about Alan, who was - who is still - a child, about Sylvia that was left alone, about Ramiel, Simon... and this time about Nate because he was in Academy, he was there and he was at risk and that kept gnawing at him constantly, and he was sure that killed him faster than anything other, because that woman he fought with, she could more or less rip him into pieces but that held no power, nothing hurt, not physically... some other form of pain was there and that killed Faith faster, more painful than anything else brought upon him.

But now he was back. He was back, finally, finally. He had Nate in his arms again - or well, Nate had him. But did that even matter? It didn't, no. Not right now, when he needed comforting, when they both did and he didn't know how to give one because they were in same situation... He only then noticed Nate was crying and he bit his own lip because... because he was that kind of person. Perhaps this was what made him good Shifter, perhaps not... but when the others cry, he would cry too, even when he felt nothing, like he could cry on command, he could cry a goddamn river. Add the mixture of everything going on right now and his lip would be bleeding if his blood wasn't too dense. But it was, so only few drops of brownish-black appeared and he blinked few tears away, clinging back to Nate with as much desperation that the other clung to him with.

"I missed you." - it was barely louder than Nate's whisper, something so unlike Faith Flynn, but it was more than sincere, it was something he couldn't hold in no matter how stupid it sounded from his own perspective. He was, after all, dead for two months. He didn't even feel it - he supposed it was like that with them, undead. It was like falling asleep from exhaustion and waking up feeling even worse, but it was akin to sleeping and that couldn't even compare to what the vampire must've gone through but... "I missed you so, so much." - the feeling was still there. That ache, that thought of never being able to see the other again.

[welshchick1201]

Truth be told, Nate hadn’t truly expected to see Faith today. Tonight. Whatever you’d call it. If he had, he would have said Hell to the rules and worn casual clothes, and maybe gone ‘bunny munching’ as they called it ever since the nickname stuck. At least then his skin wouldn’t blend with the snow and look so disgustingly transparent, and he would feel comfier clinging to Faith in such an awkward position (not that the uniform wasn’t comfortable, just... this was epitome-of-a-tumblr-and-general-teenage-girl-in-one Nathaniel Sinclair, of course he’d complain). And his hair—He would have made sure it was dry, because as it stood right now it was in the process of recovering from the shower he had approximately forty-five minutes ago, meaning not quite dripping wet but nowhere near being dry. It also wouldn’t look quite so much like a home for birds, but that was enough self-bullying for now. After all, this was hardly about him. Nate wouldn't allow it to be about him.

Faith had spoken for the first time, and it was enough to turn his stomach with some form of nauseating thrill different to that of Last Man Standing’s version. This wasn’t like hearing his voice from the mouth of that plush. No, this was far more real, far more alive which was so funny because neither of them were- not physically at least. However, once the words Faith had spoken had settled on him, he felt somewhat guilty for something that wasn’t his fault. The last thing Nate wanted was for Faith to be hurt, or upset, or sad in anyway. Yet ghoul was here admitting his more than understandable fatigue and it managed to make the vampire sick with...worry? Guilt? Sadness? He didn’t quite know what it was, but it was a sort of stab wound of emotions that just wouldn’t fade.

“I’m sorry; this is kind of selfish of me. Do you want to go back inside?” – Nate needed to ask, because Faith would always come before him. Always, always...But that was how Nate wanted it, how he liked it. Honestly, he worried about Faith so much he wondered if it was remotely healthy to think like this. C’mon, he was worrying if Faith was cold, which as he soon remembered he doesn’t anymore. Ghoul and all... But when you fool yourself to be human, you often find yourself fooling those you love to be human too, even when they’re far from it.

“I know. Believe me Faith, I know too well.”

He tuned out of the world around them, thankful for a fleeting moment of peace and indolence and anything other than bloodshed and death. With a silence hanging between them (which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing) it allowed Nate to think about everything he loved at this very moment in time and it could be summed up in two words: Faith Flynn. The same Faith Flynn who teased him day in day out, yet who held him like no other had before when he needed it most. The man who made him feel as irreplaceable as the stars and the sky and worth more than the greetings received from him every morning (worth more than all riches known to man, in vampire’s opinion). Nate felt like he was worth everything in Faith’s presence, and he could never ask for anything more from another person.

“You didn’t say goodbye.” – Nate hadn’t even meant to say those words, definitely not aloud at least. They sort of slipped off the tongue without need to think it over beforehand though, the vampires own voice startling him. He could hardly leave it at that though, could he? He found himself needing to explain something he hadn’t meant to say to begin with. This was a great start to the reunion. – “We didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to each other, before you—before those women--”

Well, this wasn’t working. His mind was racing, and words were catching on nothing but air and Nate refused to let it all turn to shit now. He refused. But panic wasn’t even the word. He was in such an overdrive over nothing, and yet it felt like everything, absolutely everything. It was all playing on his mind, all at once, and air was so scarce and he felt like he couldn’t breathe—He didn’t even need to breathe- and things were getting on top of him, weighing so heavy and it was crushing him so easily and--

Calm down. You need to calm down. That’s what he told himself, at least. But it was so much easier to say, so much easier to read it from some article or book than it ever was to actually do. Inhale, exhale. Relax. With an uneven sigh, he muttered what sounded like an apology and returned to the previous job of crowning Faith with as many kisses as he could.

Shit, he couldn’t take this anymore. Faith was right there (in nothing but a loose shirt and underwear, too) and Nate had never felt so emotional in his life (well—he sure had, but those memories felt so mediocre in comparison to this, so distant). The vampire just couldn’t resist the urge any longer. He was so close, and nothing would take him away again. Faith was Nate’s, and no one would ever get in the way of that ever again. Without second thought Nate took his lover’s face into his hands gently, fingers longing to caress those perfect features, to graze each and every freckle all night long. But that wasn’t top of the to-do list, no. Kissing was. So, without further ado, Nate pressed his lips against Faith with a sudden urgency, ignoring the fact his lips were too rough, or that he was a mess. Ignoring anything that threatened to stop this kiss in anyway, because Nate had already vowed Nothing would get in their way again. Or, well, that was the plan, but there was more than his self-conscience gnawing getting in his way...

“Christ, what happened to you?” – It was only now, after cutting their first kiss in two months short (not what he had planned, but some priorities come above others), Nate realised the mess Faith was in. The worst case scenario happened, or so Faith’s face seemed to say so, and Nate just—No, he couldn’t bear the thought of Faith being put through pain, not after all that’s happened. Unfair. It was just so unfair. Faith was meant to be the one to not suffer, to be saved from the pain through death so early on. That’s what they told him, what they promised him was the case.

He had been lied to. - “You look worse than us.”

Please let this be some joke, or some bad dream. You were allowed to hurt me, but not him, so just--tell me he’s not hurt, not after all this.

[Meduzia]

Inside? Did he want to go inside? Not particularly. Not at all. But he was afraid... what is Nate wanted to go inside and Faith offended him by refusing? What if Nate just cared about him (like Faith knew he did, after all) and he would only worry him more if he said 'no'?

"I..." - he stopped and didn't know what to say. Faith Flynn didn't know what to say. He closed his eyes and leaned into Nate's comforting embrace, letting his brain melt because thinking wasn't of any use right now. - "I don't feel like going inside now that I got out, but if you want..." - he left the choice completely to Nate and trailed off, closing his eyes and not really... falling asleep, no. He wouldn't be able to fall asleep for a while now anyway (hell, he already felt like Sleeping Beauty, exclude that 'Beauty' part because, for once, Flynn wasn't so sure of his looks).

So he didn't really fall asleep, or doze out even, no, he was merely... leaning on Nate fully, breathing the vampire in after two months of feeling anything and he was getting more and more intoxicated, even more so than he first met Nate or realized he liked him. Perhaps it was the deprivation of everything else, but now that he was overly sensitive without any other stimulus but his own weak-ish person, Faith found Nate so much more attractive. Not in physical sense, or well... not in typical physical sense. It was his scent that drove the ghoul crazy, smelling being one of his most sensitive senses, making up for what skin chose not to feel or eyes chose not to see. Nate's scent wasn't like of other vampires, full of blood, and it made it all the more attractive to Faith (not that he found blood bad, mind you, he did drink it almost daily).

It also made him feel like he was tainted Nate, in some way, but only once he needed to tell himself that Nate would be tainted anyway - no vampire can stay pure.

As said vampire spoke, words caught in ghoul's throat and he switched his position, from leaning onto Nate to now holding his face in his hands. He took only one look of concern before he grinned, showing off his sharp teeth.

"Goodbyes are for ends, aren't they?" - he asked, seeing Nate cry still leaving him in messy state as well, although he managed to blink the tears out of his eyes and grin normally - "And that apparently wasn't an end, or so I hoped." - he said with a shrug that was more visible on the right side, not his harmed one, simply because he was just not... used to using the left, 'new' hand (except in combat, which was strange - he was left-handed). But that didn't even matter, his own stiffness.

Nate was having trouble breathing and in all too familiar scene Faith could clearly see one of his first known traits - he was going to apologize. At least that's what Faith expected and he hugged the vampire as Nate started kissing his head once again, drawing circles on his shoulders in what he hoped would be comforting manner, to let Nate know he didn't mind the question. Oh, no, just on the contrary. He needed to hear Nate, every word that vampire said was something he could cling to, tell himself that this was all real and he was not simply drugged up on Nate's scent (like he was sure he would be, if it were possible). He hasn't heard that voice in so long, or so it seemed to a man who was dead for two months and now there was no sound he would listen to rather, no thing he would rather do...

Except, of course, what Nate did next. Perhaps for once, Faith wasn't thinking about just mindlessly snogging (as Vivi would put with a disgusted face on), he just wanted Nate, 'as is'. And now that Nate was kissing him, Faith was almost feverish to return the favour, to stop the goddamn shivering of his traitorous body and have some control over his actions. He clung to Nate, not only with his hands and fingers, but with every fiber of his body, feeling the possessiveness and hoping that he was getting the same message across - Nate was his and his only. Faith's. And God forbid somebody was to say it was any different.

Faith only belatedly noted how close he was to Nate, how his breathing got heavier for absolutely no reason because his chest didn't really move on its own accord anymore, how wet Nate's hair seemed to be... And now he didn't really mind all of these belated reactions, because they didn't really get into his way.

... then vampire pulled away and Faith let out a low growl. Not something he would usually let out in front of the vampire, around him, because that was obviously not human. A growl of an animal when it feels threatened, when it wants to ward the opponent off, that's the sound he let out at his lack of amusement. He did not want the kiss to end so abruptly.

"I died." - his reply was short and the ghoul looked away, because Nate did not need to see that, even though Nate looked bad as well and Faith did not want to see that... he knew what to expect. He fought the same things, only for shorter time. Only he didn't have a dead lover at the time, his friends weren't truly threatened yet, it was so much easier on him - "And I disagree. You look--- you all look like mess. In so many ways. I am mess only on the outside. It'll heal." - he said and raised his head. He then leaned into Nate, so much that his betraying lips quivered before his tongue traced them and he could feel Nate's lips with his tongue.

"Can I kiss you?"

[welshchick1201]

Welp-- I'm sorry OTL
It wasn't meant to be this long. I mean-- It was 850 words last time I looked then BOOM - 1,700 //sob
And I'm still suffering from writers block heheh so goodluck with this monstrosity //he
Lots of pointless (and bad) paragraphing heee
No, wait, in fact this whole post was pointless LOL so enjoy reading //bricked ))

“No, no, it’s fine. I was just worried you’d be cold, which was stupid really considering you’re a ghoul and all, but...“– Nate gave a quick, sharp inhale -which became an exhale just as quickly, mind you- so it made him look as though he were about to have a sort of fit, not cover up the cut off of his sentence like planned. Adding the trademark shrug to shamefully cover the ...cover up, however half-hearted the gesture was due to the current position they were in, he let out a sort of silent chuckle. Pure air, really, a bigger mess than both he and Faith put together. His voice was a broken and worn recording one could say, still repeating the same old lines as it did back on the first meeting. – “I’m sorry. No, really, I am. I just can’t think straight at the moment...”

It sounded as if there were more to say, but the words never came. Typical, if not ironic. Nevertheless, brunette couldn’t bring himself to scold any of his bad habits right now. Or to care for them, for that matter. In fact, he could feel the lids of his eyes gaining weight for no apparent reason, as if fatigue invaded him instantaneously. No, more like the adrenaline was fading, which teen knew it wasn’t since his body was livid (and not just his heart racing uncomfortably fast and harsh for his own liking, either). Shoulders shook under the touch of ghoul’s fingertips; lungs were burning and alive with every inch of Faith. Every single inch, every fibre, filled with Faith. With his Faith...

There was a hand on his face to cut his trail of thoughts short –wait, no two. Faith was holding him, and for a moment Nate feared he said the wrong thing. It was something to do with the sudden change in posture, or position even. Or was it the brief look of concern he wished he hadn’t caught glimpse of? Minor quirks, really. He was probably over thinking it all, but...It wasn’t the softest statement to come out with in the first ten minutes of reunion, after all. But saying that, there was more to get off his chest...

“I’ve missed you so much, in every way. And I’m so sorry. I know I’d always whine about the love bites, and the sharpie, and the teasing and even the eyefucking you thought I couldn’t see until it was too late, but—God, I never meant it and I never got the chance to tell you,” – Subconsciously, vampire could feel the burning sensation rising throughout his neck, like memories made of candlelight to graze over the skin. In fact, it was only then it hit him quite so vividly that the sharpie was long since gone, and the love bites had faded without a single trace. It hurt, somehow, to feel so untainted. – “I loved everything you did. I loved you, however much I tried not to say it, because I was afraid it would devalue the meaning behind it somehow. I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t say it as much as I should have...”

Words really could sting in a way physical pain couldn’t, it seemed. And yet there was Last Man Standing, with pain so profound, it literally destroyed him to point he had to just go completely numb inside. Sure, a ridiculous notion, right? A man –admittedly later lover- not even a year acquainted, and Nathaniel Sinclair felt so utterly broken by his death he would go as far as to say such a thing. Well, yes, it was ridiculous. Ludicrous, even, but true nonetheless. Like he learned, words could hurt far worse than physical pain. Now he just hoped Faith wouldn’t be too hurt by his words, or at the very least could forgive him for it later.

And words were what he got in return, words he wanted to hear played over and over again, and not only because he missed that all-too-familiar voice of Faith’s either. Yes, he was right, this wasn’t goodbye. It wasn’t, and Nate couldn’t be happier to hear it, regardless of the way the air deflated from his lungs in frenzy. A chocked sort of laughter filled the air after the words filtered through his disorientated mind, complete with a poor attempt to stop the noise of a sob escaping the back of his throat.

Nate wasn’t a strong person – physically or emotionally. Or so goes his personal opinion. The tears were inevitable, though he wasn’t expecting so many (especially over every small thing, like ghoul’s grin —crooked teeth and all). Tear after tear, yet this was a happy moment for the two, no? So why cry? This was a moment he’d anticipated for far too long, and one he didn’t want to spend crying, yet--

There was a moment’s silence, and yet it ended before it had a chance to really have any impact. Nate just felt the need to apologise, again and again—and not only to fill up the lost time. For the tears, the words he knew from experience stung worse than a blade to flesh—everything, really. Apologise for everything, both in his control and out of. Though he knew Faith wouldn’t appreciate it, disapprove of it even, so he bit his lower lip before continuing.

Vampire could feel the tears falling from his eyes once again (God, he hated crying, but that hardly mattered to him right now), ones to which he would have wiped away if he wasn’t in such desperation to keep his hands on Faith. He lost him once, but he wouldn’t again. Never, never again...

Nate then replayed his own words in his head once more before taking Faith’s in completely, letting them carve themselves into mind so not to forget. A mess? That’s what he was right now? If blue-eyed male only knew the half of it. - “I guess the past two months are catching up with me all at once. Inconvenient, huh?”

It was a rhetorical question for himself at least, but Faith could answer it if he wanted to, regardless. In fact, elder male could do as he pleased for all Nate cared (not that he didn’t already). Well, almost do as he pleased, because even in his current state, Nate wouldn’t stand for some things –even from Faith. In fact, he was opening his mouth to scold Faith on how unattractive it can be to growl at your boyfriend after inconveniently disappearing for two months to leave him to the wrath of ‘bored’ women, playing their twisted games. However, he thought better of it, since his half-assed humour wouldn’t be appreciated at a time like this, even if it was to get a point across light-heartedly.

So, teen did what he did best and gave a sort of apology for bothering ghoul further (safe to assume he was bothered, because Faith Flynn rarely growled around him, much less at him. It was probably breaking the first kiss so abruptly, since he was asking to kiss him again).

“You can have anything and everything from me. Anything and everything, Faith. You don’t even need to ask, you know,” – While it was true words were a slur (still drunk on nothing but Faith’s existence, it seemed), they would be loud enough for other male to hear. Lips were, after all, inches apart at a generous estimate, and they’d stay no further away than that if Nate had any say in the matter. - “I won’t deny you anything from me.”

Self restraint was so common now in Nate’s life he could almost forget living without it (or, well, with less of it). Day after day, time after time, watching people walk past and smelling—no, feeling the blood all around him, pulsating throughout the living’s bodies in a cruel rhythmic song. It was temptations beyond belief, at the worst of times, when his eyes would plays tricks and make him see the pulse on a person’s neck more vividly than it should be. When he saw the blood in their system before their actually physique, facial features... cruel, really (it was his own fault for not feeding regularly, but—well, he didn’t want to repeat himself. He already had ghostly complexion, enough to leave deep purples and blues smudged under his eyes or to illuminate the veins in his arms and neck. Enough to remind him of that fact this morning at least, thank you very much). They were silhouettes of blood, and nothing more. No identity further present, only prey or predator. Only food.

Though...Nate thought that was the most cruel form of temptation and test of self restraint. Until now of course, with Faith Flynn in his arms after two months, finally safe and sound (And in his underwear, no less-- now he was just repeating himself. Great). Well to an extent, sure...but close enough. Oh no, cruel was being so close to said man that he felt as though they could fabricate into one. Having lips so unbearably close, the taste of bitter copper and ice still lingering from their brief touch moments ago. Yes,this was self-restraint. Because Nate was almost sure he was about to throw away all curtsies, all salvaged manner and act like the animal he shamefully was beneath the awkward smile, the bad posture-- any god-awful attempt at some minor human characteristics he should have lacked since becoming vampire. To throw it all away and say to Hell with it for once, because he deserved that privilege for one Goddamn night.

Regardless of all his thoughts, vampire did manage to keep it together, by some miracle at least. Sure, his body was borderline rigid because apparently locking your body in place was the only way to conquer temptation-- well, in vampire’s eyes at least. Raking glazed green eyes over Faith’s blue in what he wanted to be a carefree, bemused manner yet came across as pure eyefucking, Nate gave an awkward-yet-sincere smile to cover for it (even if freckled male couldn’t see it due to being so close with each other), showing off small fangs—or, the tips at least.

“And since I kissed you first, I think it’s only fair if I leave the second privilege down to you...”

[Meduzia]

"And I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless." - he smiled and nuzzled Nate's neck, telling himself to stop being clingy, even though it was just so normal for Faith to do. He was somewhat selfish... he was real selfish, he has to admit to himself. He wanted Nate all to himself, not even thinking about what the other was feeling... or, rather, thinking about it, but not truly acknowledging it, because he was self-centered and, in his own humble opinion, Nate was his and only his.

And everything, every single thing, that vampire did, said, consciously or (more frequently) unconsciously, was perfect. Perfect in any way, any sense Faith could ever think of, and just the sound of Nate's voice would normally be enough. Normally - but this was not normal. 'Just the sound' was not enough now and he needed to hear the words, he needed to hear him talking - to hear the vampire talking to him because then Faith felt like he was a normal person - alive one. Because a two-sided conversation, that's why, and because Nate. Nate in every sense. And what he was saying, well that just tossed Faith into a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, all faster than the previous and needless breath caught in his throat, and he didn't know what to say.

He was one of... those people. The ones that felt for others, even though at most frequent cases, it was not real. It was... not something they'd be able to control. And because Nate cried, he cried as well. Because he was angry with himself, for he didn't know what to say, how to make things better. Because he was happy, for he was finally here, with him.

"And I love you." - was all he would dare say to disturb the silence, but he didn't think he would be able to stop the words from coming out anyway. He was never the one to hold magnificent speeches and he felt so sorry for that now. Or maybe he was, he couldn't remember. Maybe that was before, meaning that surely has to be again. His mind, feeling overdriven, did not allow him to dwell on that any moment longer, because there were other things he had at hand, other, more important things, things that he had nothing to say about. His throat was dry, constricted, and he was sure that, had he needed breathing, he would suffocate.

"Inconvenient." - it was a croak rather than a sound, an echo of Nate's words. He raised his hand and wiped his eyes and cheeks with the back of it, trying to rid himself of the salty substance, but the taste in his mouth still remained (he imagined his eyes must've looked bad as well, but at this moment, he couldn't bring himself to care, not truly) - "But you made it out, right?"

Only then it occurred to him - he didn't know. He had no idea whether Nate had lived or died, he didn't know and his best clue was Ramiel saying that Nate was just 'fine', which, by Ramiel's standards, could be anything. Because it's not like it was his boyfriend that died, and even if it was, he doubted Ray would take it all the same way. And Nate hadn't died, right? Because if Faith was clingy by now, he was going to become unbelievably worse if that was the case. And a clingy ghoul could be a dangerous ghoul, although surely not to the person he was clinging to.

"I don't have to tell you, then, that offer words both ways." - he did his best to smile, stretching the skin at the side of his neck and working on regeneration at the same time, although slowly, not to tire himself. Even his hair seemed lifeless, to himself at least, but he hoped none of that would be visible at the dim light. It was a vain hope, because ghoul could see anything, even better than he could in daylight, because the sun hurt his eyes, bothered him and was way too bright. So maybe they were made for each other, after all.

At the oh-so-obvious eyefucking, he smiled, trying to look smug, but he was failing miserably. Nevertheless, he leaned his forehead against Nate's, not opting to lean in.

"Maybe you'd have to wait then. I should just stay like this until it gets to early." - he was outright smirking now. But he was also trampling on his own his words not seconds later. Perhaps he hadn't mashed his lips into other's more awkwardly by now, but he corrected the hurry, rush, and just pure adrenaline my fitting his lips against Nate's more gently, more properly. He leaned, pushed himself as close to the vampire as he could bring himself to. He had completely lost the feeling in his hands and they were everywhere, everywhere - on Nate's shoulders, sides, arms, in his hair and around his neck and he was just so glad that breathing wasn't an issue, because he felt light-headed anyway.

And he felt amazing, and alive, and giddy all over and fluttery and-- and-- all those crazy, 'other' feelings that Nate induced in him without even trying. Vampire probably-- no, he surely didn't have the slightest idea what he was doing to him and Faith promised to himself, he would voice it, he has to, however right now, he couldn't bring himself to concentrate on it.