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18 September 2008 @ 06:49 pm
If Only You Had Grace  
Title: If Only You Had Grace
Pairing: Kyouya x Anne-Sophie (Tamaki's Mother)
Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG
Word Count: 500


If Only You Had Grace

He called her “Grace” when they first met, because that’s what she was like. Because he didn’t know her name. Like some dove or swan shot like a glimmer, is shimmering. Her feet were clouds and her dress paper-thin. And her legs (the prettiest part) they’re the tippling of the wine, decanted and fallaciously fine, the wringing of silk: something beautiful, something terrible. Always something, both and half.

And they’re spinning way too fast, much too much for him to think. Step-step (flip-flop), the heart goes dead—stop.

There’s a whisper and there’s a blur (oui, monsieur?). He can hear his name resounding off, he can hear her sing—happy and carefree, like the placid makers of youth. And for a moment, he thinks he is young. Too, just for a moment, a hesitant—second or two. But enough, for him.

-x-

And that was how they met, and for a while, he was satisfied. She swam like a harlot, sometimes in his dreams, others at night (really) in his arms. But she was special, and he’s finally gotten her convinced of this.

Casuistry (that was a word, a fancy one, he’d picked up here and there). That was the word, they used back at home. Not here in France, not here, where they had a different name for deceits. Here, they called it romance. Romancing the love, the lover, the loveliest girl all-time-around.

And sometimes, he wonders if it truly was her.

And like the sound of his own casket snapping down shut, the dropping of a rare-and-delicate, cut-and-dried specimen, he’s all teeter-scared and wanting something else. And maybe (this is when it gets him most) there was someone better.

Waiting. Out there, for him to find. Like he found her, only better.

-x-

“Mark but this flea, and mark in this…”

She would’ve appreciated that. She was French, after all.

“No.”

And his smile fell down flat, like the rivers during the summer-droughts. Where nothing new flows free, and all the gunk that lingered and made bereft (of substance, of sincerity) were left to be interred and grounded.

So this was deeply wounding to him, him thinking like an inventor. The Renaissance Man (she laughed at that too).

-x-

Now, Kyouya is turning another year, another leaf, another day-gone-by in his life. He can see the thinning out of his body, the depraved, hungry, aching look that his father used to have (before he died, the old one). And he especially hates how after she runs fingers through his hair, threads turn white.

Like snow.


But though—

She’s still young, even in her twenty years ahead. Keeps dashing ahead, too quick (wits and bits and slivers, tempting and demanding). She’s been running for too long. And without “grace”.

And even now, after all this time, after all the marathons that never ceased (never waited), he still has trouble keeping up.

-x-

Soon, his gut wants to cry. He just wants out.

Soon, he leaves. And that’s the end.

 



 
 
 
elle • brazo derecho del atúnpekori on September 19th, 2008 05:03 am (UTC)
There is some ultimately profound meter in this work. I really adore the abstractness of it and the way it reads a bit like free form poetry.

Guh. Yes. This. ♥
just another 「 dreamer 」: Ouran: Kyouya - Poignanceevocates on September 19th, 2008 09:37 am (UTC)
Oh your language is beautiful in this, weaving in and out and the images created is so <vivid. Your style is absolutely gorgeous.

But somehow... Maybe it's just me, I don't really see Kyouya in there. Maybe it's too lyrical, too abstract and Kyouya isn't the sort to think like that. He's analytical, logical, and the way I see it, the most abstract form he might think in is metaphorical, because that's a way of distancing. This... it's beautiful, but it doesn't fit Kyouya at all. But.

But once I switch in Yuzuru, it works even better. The irony and the bittersweetness is even stronger. I don't know if it's the character or it's just me, but your style seems to speak far more of Yuzuru than Kyouya, which you probably didn't intend. xD

Still, it's a gorgeous fic. ♥
Anarchy BAMF: Real Romancedilemina on September 19th, 2008 10:59 am (UTC)
I'm sitting here half-asleep, staring at my flist wondering what this Kyouya/Anne-Sophie story was...and I'm simply amazed.

It's really beautiful. <33
Tama-chancupcaketime on September 19th, 2008 04:49 pm (UTC)
This was absolutely gorgeous! I didn't think it was possible for a fic to make me swoon this much. Poetic, lovely, and with a fleeting quality about it.
I just adored this!
mellishscratchmist on September 19th, 2008 05:01 pm (UTC)
I really liked this, the way it was experimental and read like prose poetry, especially with all the clever rhymes; it was a very lyrical piece, flowy and wonderfully worded. The very idea of Kyoya and Anne-Sophie is intriguing, too, and very original.

I think I would have liked it better without the very last part, though - it seemed too declarative compared to the rest of the piece, and in that sense made his 'leaving' seem abrupt, despite all the build-up from previous sections.

Still, what a beautiful story. ^^ Nicely done.
Y U no auto-translate?lye_tea on September 20th, 2008 06:30 am (UTC)
I wrote this fic for ouran_contest. The theme was "impending doom". I had to squeeze the theme in there somewhere, so it went to the last part! Hahaha.
treeflamingo: lovetreeflamingo on September 20th, 2008 04:55 pm (UTC)
This is like wrought silver. This is like being stabbed in the gut with the most exquisite of icicles. This is Anne-Sophie and what she would do to him, how he would not be able to help it. This is Kyouya getting what he wants, even when he doesn't want it, which is ultimately, consummately, Kyouya. This is heart-breaking.

I actually disagree with the other two critiques ("it's not quite Kyouya," and "ending is too final.") But I'm not coherent enough in my reaction to this to know if I have a critique of my own, or even to tell you why I disagree with evocates and scratchmist. I've always taken a long time to digest poetry.

Also, you taught me a new word. Thanks. I'm now going to look for places to create casuistry in my life, and when I do, I'll call it romance.
Y U no auto-translate?lye_tea on September 20th, 2008 08:14 pm (UTC)
Thank you. Your comment made my day. ♥
neko11lover: Hikaruneko11lover on September 28th, 2008 01:22 pm (UTC)
I was debating on whether to comment or not. I figured that a short comment won't do your piece justice while not writing one would just be plain rude. So yes, I will be straight to the point: I enjoyed this immensely, and not just because I like crack, but because the words you used gave life to this whole thing. Thank you for making my day. =]
Y U no auto-translate?lye_tea on September 28th, 2008 06:47 pm (UTC)
Thank you for that lovely comment. ♥