~In a haze of stormy haze~
~I’ll be ‘round, I’ll be loving you always~
Electricity courses through his veins, burning with a liquid fire. Pain branches across his being, fibers merging into a flawless weave. He is surprised. He has never felt this side of reality before.
The only relief comes from the orbs directed at him, one icy, one pitying. Strength pulses from those eyes. He holds, grasps, clings to that energy, drinks it up and feels it empower him like a sugar rush.
His natural high.
Longing for the princess clashes with the pain, battling for dominance. And still the eyes remain; still his gaze remains fixed. Even as the frame of reality slips to hang crooked, he concentrates on the pair of spheres.
He can feel himself falling. The lightning in his blood seems to jangle his atoms like dice in a cup. He can feel himself dissolve, but ashes in the wind. Any second now, he will blow away, away from his princess, away to the world of insanity.
His boundless prison.
He tries to fight it. But what can he fight with? A knight cannot combat if he has no control over his own limbs. Instead, he submits to the pain, to the agony setting his gut aflame from the inside.
He instead focuses on the eyes before him. They are windows, they are, windows to the soul. Murky windows, but glass all the same. He is sad to see none of his love requited there, as he so desperately wishes. He sees no regret, only ice and pity as he disintegrates into unconsciousness.
Only the eyes.
His slipped closed.
~Here I am and I take my time~
~Here I am and I’ll wait in line~
When the world comes into focus, he finds himself sitting on a solitary throne, high-backed with blood-crimson velvet draped over it.
Meant for a king, not a knight.
The gale of darkness pushes and swirls against him from all sides, but he isn’t afraid.
As is routine, the device lies on the ground, projecting its witchcraft for him to watch.
His fingertips press against the cool, somehow tangible pixels, lightly brushing the pupils and tracing the edges of the irises. Committing them to memory.
The eyes brighten, beam, shine with a radiance appreciated only by him.
He sits back, grips the armrests, face blank.
Her eyes close, yet open again.
He doesn’t blink.
~ . . . Always . . . ~
EDIT: N’kay. In case you didn’t get it – I read it over, and I can see why – here’s a hint. It’s Orion.
Shortest song ever, and thus I bring you the shortest songfic ever.
Seriously, though. This song is, like, 46 seconds long. It’s really short.
My first songfic (which isn’t saying much) so feel free to load on the crit. I’m ready. *chomps on popcorn*
I don’t own AF or Parachutes. Those belong to Eoin Colfer and Coldplay, respectively.