Post by Reens on Dec 31, 2005 5:21:46 GMT -5
* Moved from BnK archives. Another thought-provoking one shot by Hari.
Genre: Surreal Angst
Pairing: Orlando/OFC
Synopsis: Some things you do not need eyes to see.
Hallucination
By Hari T
An agitated breeze wrestles with the sienna locks that hang to her mid back. The fine strands dance and play, waving this way and that in the chilling wind, blanketing the restless air. She stands, motionless, her unseeing eyes gazing out to sea as the wind begins its attack at her dress. The beige fabric lurches away from her, racing against the current but remaining held back. Still she stares, seeing not with her eyes but with her soul. Feeling all that is around through tangibility, the sound of the wind’s battle against the sea narrating her surroundings.
A dog barks in the distance and the padding of feet announces its arrival. She does not look down, what would be the point, but instead outstretches a hand allowing the dog to caress against her skin of its own free will. A panting figure approaches her from behind but she does not wince. When her eyes might once have betrayed her, her heart does not and the presence of this man proves calming.
“I’m sorry,” he begins, bending over and resting his hands on his knees as he gasps for breath out of sheer habit. “I didn’t think there’d be anyone about at this time of night so I let her off the lead,” he pauses to pet his dog, glancing up at the girl who still has her back to him. She is listening to every word he says, her mind building the image where her eyes cannot.
“Are you okay?” The man questions, glancing from the girl to his dog and back again. He walks around her to witness a face and is greeted by infinite blue eyes that see nothing of him. Standing between her and the sea, he awaits some form of acknowledgement. He is infatuated with the epitome of perfection before him, but increasingly restless due to the eerie glazed eyes.
“I’m Orlando,” he announces; a novel experience for him to need introduction. The girl stares blankly at him, her eyes seeming to not even register his presence. The wind blows hair across her face, momentarily hiding the apparition from him, before retreating. Orlando glanced at his dog, seeking some kind of support. The animal nods in agreement before lying at the girl’s feet. Agreement to what? He ponders.
“Well my dog certainly seems to like you,” he offers, smiling cheerfully. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, desperately wanting to make conversation with this girl but finding the experience much like drawing blood from a stone.
“Do you want me to get someone, or take you somewhere?” he asks, somewhat concerned that she has yet to speak or even move. “A doctor, or…” he begins but is interrupted.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she speaks for the first time, still not looking him in the eye. He is unaware that this is because she cannot. She raises a hand and outstretches it before her. It falls just centimetres from his chest and Orlando suddenly finds himself fighting the urge to step forward and feel her touch upon him. She holds her hand still, her fingertips wiggling slightly fine-tuning to read his aura. Sharply she draws her hand back, as if it has been scolded, coiling her fingers into a fist. Orlando watches as a frown crosses her face, wondering what on earth she was doing but suddenly feeling a sense of incompletion at the withdrawal of her hand.
“You know it’s late, maybe you should be getting home,” he suggests, becoming suddenly wary of the power this girl seems to have over him. He bends down to put the lead on his dog, ignoring the whine the animal make and stands to take his leave. “It was nice meeting you,” he compliments, offering an outstretched hand, which again she ignores. Thinking her angry with him and rather rude, he nods his head in acknowledgement before leading is dog away.
“I cannot see with my eyes,” she justifies, her voice carrying across the wind and making him stop in his tracks. He doesn’t move despite being many metres away and, in the darkness, barely able to see her. “I have been blind for many years now but I can see you,” she continues. Orlando turns to face her, astonishment and disbelief in his eyes. Surely it wasn’t possible that blind people could see some things but not others. “You have a presence,” she explains, “which burns straight through my oblivion. I am sorry if you think me rude but I am still in a state of shock.”
The young man too is suffering from shock. He is so enwrapped by a presence he suddenly feels, that he has lost all focus on the blurry image ahead of him. He is oblivious to the dog that is pulling him back towards the girl, oblivious to the rain that has begun to fall and oblivious to the fact that he is striding towards her at great speed. But when he reaches the spot that she had been, there is no sign of her. He calls and calls, running around feverishly in the now torrential rain but she is gone. His dog howls with the wind, the rain saturating him and the sea whipping at his ankles as he screams to a girl he does not know. The consuming sense of presence is slowly fading and he cries out in agony as he feels it leave in entirety, collapsing in the sand he sobs bitterly.
The sun rises and the gulls began their morning squawk. A bedraggled figure lies, sprawled on the sand, a dog asleep by his side. As the man opens his eyes he sees the girl from his dream disappear into the sea: an apparition of more substance than he has seen in any living creature.
Genre: Surreal Angst
Pairing: Orlando/OFC
Synopsis: Some things you do not need eyes to see.
Hallucination
By Hari T
An agitated breeze wrestles with the sienna locks that hang to her mid back. The fine strands dance and play, waving this way and that in the chilling wind, blanketing the restless air. She stands, motionless, her unseeing eyes gazing out to sea as the wind begins its attack at her dress. The beige fabric lurches away from her, racing against the current but remaining held back. Still she stares, seeing not with her eyes but with her soul. Feeling all that is around through tangibility, the sound of the wind’s battle against the sea narrating her surroundings.
A dog barks in the distance and the padding of feet announces its arrival. She does not look down, what would be the point, but instead outstretches a hand allowing the dog to caress against her skin of its own free will. A panting figure approaches her from behind but she does not wince. When her eyes might once have betrayed her, her heart does not and the presence of this man proves calming.
“I’m sorry,” he begins, bending over and resting his hands on his knees as he gasps for breath out of sheer habit. “I didn’t think there’d be anyone about at this time of night so I let her off the lead,” he pauses to pet his dog, glancing up at the girl who still has her back to him. She is listening to every word he says, her mind building the image where her eyes cannot.
“Are you okay?” The man questions, glancing from the girl to his dog and back again. He walks around her to witness a face and is greeted by infinite blue eyes that see nothing of him. Standing between her and the sea, he awaits some form of acknowledgement. He is infatuated with the epitome of perfection before him, but increasingly restless due to the eerie glazed eyes.
“I’m Orlando,” he announces; a novel experience for him to need introduction. The girl stares blankly at him, her eyes seeming to not even register his presence. The wind blows hair across her face, momentarily hiding the apparition from him, before retreating. Orlando glanced at his dog, seeking some kind of support. The animal nods in agreement before lying at the girl’s feet. Agreement to what? He ponders.
“Well my dog certainly seems to like you,” he offers, smiling cheerfully. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, desperately wanting to make conversation with this girl but finding the experience much like drawing blood from a stone.
“Do you want me to get someone, or take you somewhere?” he asks, somewhat concerned that she has yet to speak or even move. “A doctor, or…” he begins but is interrupted.
“I’m fine, thank you,” she speaks for the first time, still not looking him in the eye. He is unaware that this is because she cannot. She raises a hand and outstretches it before her. It falls just centimetres from his chest and Orlando suddenly finds himself fighting the urge to step forward and feel her touch upon him. She holds her hand still, her fingertips wiggling slightly fine-tuning to read his aura. Sharply she draws her hand back, as if it has been scolded, coiling her fingers into a fist. Orlando watches as a frown crosses her face, wondering what on earth she was doing but suddenly feeling a sense of incompletion at the withdrawal of her hand.
“You know it’s late, maybe you should be getting home,” he suggests, becoming suddenly wary of the power this girl seems to have over him. He bends down to put the lead on his dog, ignoring the whine the animal make and stands to take his leave. “It was nice meeting you,” he compliments, offering an outstretched hand, which again she ignores. Thinking her angry with him and rather rude, he nods his head in acknowledgement before leading is dog away.
“I cannot see with my eyes,” she justifies, her voice carrying across the wind and making him stop in his tracks. He doesn’t move despite being many metres away and, in the darkness, barely able to see her. “I have been blind for many years now but I can see you,” she continues. Orlando turns to face her, astonishment and disbelief in his eyes. Surely it wasn’t possible that blind people could see some things but not others. “You have a presence,” she explains, “which burns straight through my oblivion. I am sorry if you think me rude but I am still in a state of shock.”
The young man too is suffering from shock. He is so enwrapped by a presence he suddenly feels, that he has lost all focus on the blurry image ahead of him. He is oblivious to the dog that is pulling him back towards the girl, oblivious to the rain that has begun to fall and oblivious to the fact that he is striding towards her at great speed. But when he reaches the spot that she had been, there is no sign of her. He calls and calls, running around feverishly in the now torrential rain but she is gone. His dog howls with the wind, the rain saturating him and the sea whipping at his ankles as he screams to a girl he does not know. The consuming sense of presence is slowly fading and he cries out in agony as he feels it leave in entirety, collapsing in the sand he sobs bitterly.
The sun rises and the gulls began their morning squawk. A bedraggled figure lies, sprawled on the sand, a dog asleep by his side. As the man opens his eyes he sees the girl from his dream disappear into the sea: an apparition of more substance than he has seen in any living creature.