Work Text:
Amorphous. Round. Not moving nor motionless, simply existing. It was sudden. A hard cut from vibrance to here; a blank space. Pure white both infinite and compact.
" 'ere you are!" A familiar but featureless voice greeted joyously. Emotion was the only feature that existed within the space. It didn't have eyes, or ears, but it clearly envisioned two orbs next to each other against a blank background. "Took you awhile yeah? Felt like I've waited ages."
"Thought you'd last longer this time." It said, voice tinged with the dozens of accents it had over existence. Its voice both echoed but was dampened, light and airy around the end but solid at its core.
"Longer 'en Napels."
"Can blink longer then you were in Napels."
"That's the point." It said. "Dissapointed I tapped out so early, though. Hoped it would've been like Toronto."
"Me too." The scene suddenly cut. The void was replaced by vivid landscape. It felt like a dream, point of view third person bit still experienced only by one. Two men, heavy coats, warm mugs of coffee in calloused hands as they watched the snow fall. That life was stained by conquest and bloodshed, but moments like that were abundant. They found each other early that time, as children, and had gone through the cycle hand in hand.
Two hands clasped together, old and wrinkled, shadows of the men they once were, but strong in the moment. The final moments of that lifetime lived together at long last hand in hand, content until it too cut out.
" 's funny, isn't it?" It chuckled. " 's like we just had that one."
"Been a couple between, at least." It hummed, though not disagreeing. "Don't think we'll have another one like that though. The happy ending."
"Wasn't exactly happy, in my opinion." It argued, tone tinged by a sense of dissapointment. "A bit sad actually. We cried."
"We did. But it was happy tears."
"You were happy?"
"Yeah, cause I got to live it all with you."
There was a beat of silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was warm. Sentimental but melancholy.
"Wish we could remember this." It said, sighing. "You always say tha most sentimental stuff 'ere. Never do out of it."
"You know why."
" 'course I do, doesn't mean I don' wish we could say it more."
"It's changing, at least. Soon." It eased. It could imagine a head against a shoulder, hand rubbing an arm. Soon, he promised.
"Soon never comes soon, does it?"
"Suppose it doesn't."
The sterile white broke, top cracking as light shone down. Feeling returned. Shell formed around gentle interior, vision gradually fading.
"This time it'll be soon." It reassured.
"I'll keep you to that."