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I Will Hold You For The Minute

Summary:

‘The Future is a Foreign Land.’

———

“… I shouldn’t have come back, you know. I didn’t have to.” She waves a nail-polished hand with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re lucky I’m even standing here right now. I could have skipped town.”

“I know.” He replies softly, wringing his hands between his thighs. “Did—” He wet his lips with his tongue. “Did you like it?”

“Like what?”

“The song?”

Notes:

My RHRN vinyl showed up today and I’m having many feelings. I’ve wanted to write this ever since I saw the film; enjoy!

Work Text:

Sister lay on her side. She would have been lying if she said she hadn’t listened to the song a few times— hell, more than a few. Several. She hit stop. She hit rewind. She hit play. She listened for something. Something other than the words he was saying. She wasn’t sure what. She rubbed her hand over her gut, her lips pursing as she took a deep breath in. 

 

She changes; after a good long time. Long enough for him to think about what he’d done, she got in her car, brushing her hand over the dented hood, her nails scraping the paint. She sat in the driver's seat, the mirror pulled down, applying more lipstick to her already tear-stained look. She didn’t even remember crying.

 

And she drove.

 

The silence was tense between them, as Nihil sat looking like a kicked puppy when she stood there, hands on her hips, her heel tapping away as she looked at him.

 

He smiles, a bead of sweat rolling off of his temple. He was trying to look her dead in the eyes, but he kept dropping his head to rub the back of his neck.

 

“… I shouldn’t have come back, you know. I didn’t have to.” She waves a nail-polished hand with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re lucky I’m even standing here right now. I could have skipped town.”

 

“I know.” He replies softly, wringing his hands between his thighs. “Did—” He wet his lips with his tongue. “Did you like it?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“The song?”

 

She rolls her eyes, looking off to the side where the ghouls were milling around a table, silently watching the couple bicker- pretending to turn back to their cards and beers. 

 

Wiping beneath her eyes faintly with her index finger, she took a deep breath in. “… Yes, I did,” Letting the breath out in a heavy sigh. She couldn’t help but smile sadly, dropping her head with a chuckle. Beginning to pace, she presses a hand to her lips, closing her eyes as they threaten to spill with tears again.

 

Nihil stands to follow, swallowing as he stands behind her. She walks to the window, looking out over the horizon- where the sun sets. The sky was painted all sorts of orange and pink. 

 

“… I’m sorry.” He says softly. 

 

“I know.” She replies, taking a soft breath in as she rubs a hand down her face, the other one against her stomach. She couldn’t tell him- not right now, not like this. She’d planned on doing it after his show. That was too long ago now. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

 

He walks up behind her, hesitating- before wrapping his arms lovingly around her midsection, pulling her back against him. “I will,” He whispers, his mouth pressing against the nape of her neck, an open mouthed kiss. His breath was shaking. “I promise.”

 

She swallows softly, looking at their hollow reflections in the glass. “… Good.” She murmurs.

 

—————

 

Copia clears his throat, wiping beneath his eyes with an ungloved hand as he looks in the mirror with his new suit— fitted tight around his waist and arms. He tries to straighten his posture, but his lip quivers and he can hardly look before he’s wiping his eyes again, trying his damndest not to smudge his paints.

 

“Shit,” He mutters under his breath, taking a quivering breath in as he tries to brush it off, shaking his head, his new bedazzled charm jingling as he moves. “Ah— shit!”

 

He pulls his hand away, looking up in the mirror, his paint smeared against his lower lid, which he quickly tries to wipe away— but the damage is done. He sniffles softly, closing his eyes and bouncing on the heels of his feet. 

 

It can only get easier, he thinks. Right?

 

“Cardi?” A familiar voice rings, and he turns to see Sister’s incorporeal form. She looks frustrated, her hands clasped at her front. “What is taking you so long?”

 

“Ah— eh- I was…” He fumbles, pulling his glove back on as he seeks an excuse, stumbling over to her on unsteady feet. He blinks his tears away aggressively, shaking his head with a sigh. “I don’t know.”

 

She raises a brow, looking him up and down. “You don’t know?” 

 

“… No.”

 

“C,” She sighs, reaching out to touch him, although the former Papa feels nothing but cool air. “You are much too old to be lying to me.”

 

His eyes well up again, yearning to reach out and hold her again. He thinks about the last time they touched, the fleeting hand hold in the midst of his last show. If he had known it was the last time, he would have never let her go.

 

“I’m just,” He takes a soft breath in through his nose, his eyes cast down at the floor. “It’s— eh— difficult. Taking your—” He swallows hard, gnawing on the inside of his cheek to steel himself. “Taking your spot so quickly.”

 

Her expression softens, her hands falling back to clasp at her waist. “I understand. But, my work never stops. It’s your turn now, to carry the legacy.”

 

“… I know.”

 

“Soon, you’ll never even know I was gone at all, hm?” He tries to reassure him, ushering him along with her hand. “Come on now— we’re already late.”

 

“Right.” He murmurs, swallowing back his tears one more time, as he walks out of the room. “…Do I look nice, at least?”

 

“Stunning, my dear.” 

 

—————

 

“Soon, you’ll never even know I was gone at all, hm?”

 

It echoes in his mind as he carries the fresh flowers in his arms; fresh red roses, as he visits the spot they laid her to rest. Alongside Nihil- embossed with her name, along the marble, covered with a dark sheet. He’d done that himself, as beautiful as she was in death, he couldn’t bring himself to look into her coffin. 

 

He moves the old flowers from their spot, the small copper ring that hangs from the wall, as they’ve shriveled and wilted over the passing weeks. He placed them down politely, before placing the new roses into the loop, adjusting them with his hands.

 

He smiles softly, making sure they’re all visible in their respective spots, before plucking one that doesn’t look like it belongs- standing back up, and gingerly placing it atop her coffin, running his hand over the silky fabric with a sigh.

 

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” Sister says softly from behind him, her subtle glow lighting the alcove. 

 

“I know that.” He nods, stepping away and smoothing out his shirt, picking up the decaying flowers from the floor. “But I want to.”

 

She smiles sweetly at him, shaking her head. As they walk away, she places her hand against his shoulder, humming quietly. Copia can’t put his finger on it immediately- as it isn’t one of his songs.

 

He looks ahead, the only other sound coming from his footsteps. Something old , he recalls, tapping a finger gently to the tune.

 

“I’ll hold you for the minute it takes…” He mumbles, glancing over at Sister with a sad smile. 

 

She chuckles softly, her own eyes crinkling with amusement. “Your father did always have a way with words.”

 

“Hm. You could say that.” He laughs softly in return, his shoulders shrugging as he finally relaxes; more than he has in a long time.