Work Text:
he is black as night and you are white as snow.
you lie side by side, two figures within the tiny enclosed square of a time-worn, comfortable abode drifting in the big wide world. the moonlight reaches its dainty fingers through the window of cobalt blue and touches his thin face, coloring it a stark white against the darkness and accentuating a rare kind of beauty. you feel an unexplainable calm that you didn't know existed as you feel his presence beside yours. his expression, usually drawn, acquiescing everything that was happening around him, was relaxed.
"i want to paint stars in your eyes," he says quietly, his underused voice raspy, glancing at you from sideways as he entangles your hands wordlessly with his with a kind of controlled force. it feels natural despite the oddness of it, and the side of your lips tugs upwards with the beginnings of a half-smile. his face mirrors your own, almost, and he tightens his grip but only slightly. he turns to face you, and for some reason you flush, coloring your own skin noticeably. he softens impossibly, his features losing their sharp edges and you almost gasp because it is so different from his usual paradigm of hatred.
you turn onto your side as well, and you remove your other hand from your abdomen and reach forward to run your digits softly against his cheek. his skin is cool to the touch. the tactile motion tenses and stiffens him for a moment and you worry, hesitating, but then he relaxes once more and you exhale fully. you're reminded, yet again, of the rudimentary, almost nonexistent education you have with communicating with other people. you were, after all, brought up in an orphanage where people didn't care about you or rather, seemed to despise you. you freeze, captured by those memories long gone.
as if noticing your distress, he frowns for a moment then moves on to touch his forehead to your own. you let loose a quick breath at the unfamiliar sensation, and you decide you like it, smiling. he smiles too, and then for a second he looks as though he is having an inner battle within the chamber of his thoughts, before he leans forward and kisses you, the movement almost uncharacteristically frenetic. you return the favor. he tastes like storms and explosions and supernovas and galaxies and otherworldly things and you suddenly want to efface the demons of his past with every touch of your lips, because well; he deserves so much more.
when he detaches himself, he looks almost embarrassed, and you grin despite yourself. he simply stares at you, his bi-shaded grey eyes stretched wide with exaltation, as if he is beholding something in awe, and you have a sudden understanding as to what he had said earlier.
"i do, too." you answer.
he is black as night and you are white as snow, but somehow, somehow, you are one and the same.