A Second Klaine Summer
KlainebowsandQuirrelmort
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A Second Klaine Summer: The Hand


E - Words: 370 - Last Updated: Sep 21, 2012
Story: Closed - Chapters: 14/? - Created: Jul 01, 2012 - Updated: Sep 21, 2012
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The Hand

Through the haze of solid black before him, dotted stars peeked out, dusted across the night sky like spilled cinnamon. The scent of dewy leaves pressed against him, and he was plucked from the corporeal world and was sent spiraling into one of light and clouds and silence.

The only thing keeping him tethered to the life below was a hand, a long, thin, soft hand, with endless fingers woven seamlessly through his. The hand kept the back of his own pressed into the rough bark of the bough suspending him from the earth below. The hand squeezed his gently, and a thumb rubbed along his knuckles. This tenuous hold on reality was just strong enough for him to turn his head and whisper, "I'm so glad you're here."

The answering smile put the stars to shame. "Always."

The silence descended again, but now that it had been broken, it remained marred. The hum of crickets dancing on the blades of grass below sung over the low harmony of the freeway a mile east. A few stray shrieks from night swimmers rang out. The rustle of their leafy cocoon insulted them from the screech of an owl four yards over.

But none of this music remained immune from the harsh, muted bellows behind their heads—nor the thumps, nor the crashes, nor the whimpers.

But he couldn't think about that. Not now. Not when the world in the sky was safe, when the hand holding his was soft, when the boy next to him was beautiful. The ugliness below could wait until morning, after the first rays of sun froze the world in an instant of perfection.

He didn't mean to fall asleep. He meant to lift off of the tree branch, to fly amongst the stars, to take his lover on a tour of all the universe has to offer two young boys in love. But a new sound, one that completely eclipsed the soundtrack of hatred rising from the underneath, took his expectations and tossed them into the spangled abyss above. It was light and lilting and so close, almost tangible, and it lulled him into a world even more beautiful than this one.

But he never quite left.

There was a hand holding him down.


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