Post by Emma on May 24, 2007 11:33:52 GMT -5
Just like that.
Just like that, she was gone. People dying was nothing new – It happened every day, everyone knew that, but neither of them had ever really thought it would happen to Mana. Even Ren, who said so constantly that he hated Mana, had been shocked into silence. There weren’t any words for it. A fitting death for her, going down with her ship. A fairy-tale ending. But Mithos didn’t see it that way. He hadn’t done anything, hadn’t said anything, just stared, open-mouthed at the television on the wall before Jun had noticed, ever observant, and stepped over, turning it off quickly.
Then, later on in the day, he and Ren had gone for a walk – to clear their heads. Passing the local swimming pool and watching the children play Marco Polo broke his heart again, and Ren had needed to drag him away to stop him breaking down then and there. He hadn’t cried, not until they got back, and then with his beer, had sat and sobbed like a broken man for hours, maybe longer, and that was exactly what he was – broken. Now he understood exactly how Tom Covenant had felt, all those years ago, when he had lost his brother, and the morning after they had found him asleep in his study, desk scattered with letters to his late brother, all bearing the same message: Marco.
Finally looking up from his drink, the Englishman let his gaze trail to Ren, and the rain outside. Placing down his drink quietly, he got to his feet, padded across the room and wrapped his arms around the younger man from behind silently. There were no words that could be said, nothing that would help, no excuses.
“Let’s not forget.”
Just like that, she was gone. People dying was nothing new – It happened every day, everyone knew that, but neither of them had ever really thought it would happen to Mana. Even Ren, who said so constantly that he hated Mana, had been shocked into silence. There weren’t any words for it. A fitting death for her, going down with her ship. A fairy-tale ending. But Mithos didn’t see it that way. He hadn’t done anything, hadn’t said anything, just stared, open-mouthed at the television on the wall before Jun had noticed, ever observant, and stepped over, turning it off quickly.
Then, later on in the day, he and Ren had gone for a walk – to clear their heads. Passing the local swimming pool and watching the children play Marco Polo broke his heart again, and Ren had needed to drag him away to stop him breaking down then and there. He hadn’t cried, not until they got back, and then with his beer, had sat and sobbed like a broken man for hours, maybe longer, and that was exactly what he was – broken. Now he understood exactly how Tom Covenant had felt, all those years ago, when he had lost his brother, and the morning after they had found him asleep in his study, desk scattered with letters to his late brother, all bearing the same message: Marco.
Finally looking up from his drink, the Englishman let his gaze trail to Ren, and the rain outside. Placing down his drink quietly, he got to his feet, padded across the room and wrapped his arms around the younger man from behind silently. There were no words that could be said, nothing that would help, no excuses.
“Let’s not forget.”
