[Gundam SEED] Drive (400)
May. 7th, 2006 01:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joiedecombatOh, fine. I was going to sit on this one over the weekend and poke at it some more, but I've decided that I kind of like how it came out even if I did miss the "insightful" I was aiming for and ended up in "pretentious" instead.
But I am probably going to back off of these a bit now and not inflict any more on you guys for a while, so don't worry.
Mwu can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Murrue could almost hold that against him some nights, when she is lying awake with all of her responsibilities as captain and the uncertainties of the days to come nagging at her thoughts in the dark stillness of her quarters, and he is lying beside her breathing slow and deep and sleeping as though all is right with his world. She knows what it really is - that as a fighter pilot he has long since learned the value of sleeping when he can, not knowing when the next battle will be. But she still envies him a little, some nights, at least until the warmth of him and the steady in and out of his breathing lulls her into drifting off herself.
Many nights lately she dreams, the things she puts out of mind during the days finding release when her conscious mind is turned off.
More than once she has dreamed of driving down a road that winds along an empty coastline, with the wind rushing past and tossing her hair about, and Mwu in the seat beside her, in the morning with the sea brushed silver and mist rising up from the pavement or at the end of the day with the sunset turning water to fire and tinting everything gold. He is always in uniform, and at least in her dreams he drives like he flies, fast and sure, whipping around the bends of the road with his hands steady on the wheel. She leans back in her seat and gives in to the exhilaration of it and tries not to let on that he's making her just a little nervous.
When she is the one behind the wheel, she takes a more relaxed speed. Somewhere ahead they are bound to run out of road, and she's in no hurry to get there.
She rarely remembers much of her dreams when she wakes up, aside from vague impressions of light and open air, but she doesn't mind, and doesn't give much thought to trying to recall more. She prefers to smooth a hand gently over the contours of his back, watching his sleeping face in the dark and letting the minutes stretch out as long as they will, until either morning comes and duty calls them both out of bed, or she drifts off to sleep again.
But I am probably going to back off of these a bit now and not inflict any more on you guys for a while, so don't worry.
Mwu can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Murrue could almost hold that against him some nights, when she is lying awake with all of her responsibilities as captain and the uncertainties of the days to come nagging at her thoughts in the dark stillness of her quarters, and he is lying beside her breathing slow and deep and sleeping as though all is right with his world. She knows what it really is - that as a fighter pilot he has long since learned the value of sleeping when he can, not knowing when the next battle will be. But she still envies him a little, some nights, at least until the warmth of him and the steady in and out of his breathing lulls her into drifting off herself.
Many nights lately she dreams, the things she puts out of mind during the days finding release when her conscious mind is turned off.
More than once she has dreamed of driving down a road that winds along an empty coastline, with the wind rushing past and tossing her hair about, and Mwu in the seat beside her, in the morning with the sea brushed silver and mist rising up from the pavement or at the end of the day with the sunset turning water to fire and tinting everything gold. He is always in uniform, and at least in her dreams he drives like he flies, fast and sure, whipping around the bends of the road with his hands steady on the wheel. She leans back in her seat and gives in to the exhilaration of it and tries not to let on that he's making her just a little nervous.
When she is the one behind the wheel, she takes a more relaxed speed. Somewhere ahead they are bound to run out of road, and she's in no hurry to get there.
She rarely remembers much of her dreams when she wakes up, aside from vague impressions of light and open air, but she doesn't mind, and doesn't give much thought to trying to recall more. She prefers to smooth a hand gently over the contours of his back, watching his sleeping face in the dark and letting the minutes stretch out as long as they will, until either morning comes and duty calls them both out of bed, or she drifts off to sleep again.
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no subject
Date: 2006-05-07 06:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-07 07:01 am (UTC)Although I don't suppose it's all that important that it have a title. I don't know that I'll be posting it anywhere other than here; I think it only makes sense in my head.