storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-01-07 12:44 pm
storypaint) wrote2009-01-07 12:44 pm
Growing (Akira/Utako)
Title: Growing
Day/Theme: Oct 26 // phases
Series: Man of Many Faces
Character/Pairing: Akira/Utako
Rating: G
Excerpt: They stepped through the heady stages of romance in their elementary school years, one small hand in one small hand, and no one dared to tell them that love was hard, that lasting forever was nearly impossible.
The two of them went through phases. Every relationship did, and theirs was no exception. They stepped through the heady stages of romance in their elementary school years, one small hand in one small hand, and no one dared to tell them that love was hard, that lasting forever was nearly impossible.
Akira was always taller than her. Utako kept reaching and reaching. When she entered her teens they began to fight. He didn't understand her anger. She didn't understand it either. She was struggling with him and with herself.
"I don't know who I am," she told him one night, "so how can I know I love you?"
"I know," he said, reaching out to brush her cheek, "you are the same Utako I have always loved."
It was enough. The storms calmed. The Man of Many Faces was seen less and less often, as Akira spent his nights on dates. Even his mothers could not protest. They looked at each other and sighed, remembering the way his father had courted them. Oh, young love. More precious than jewels, and harder to find.
By the time Utako was nearly sixteen it seemed like she and Akira had been together forever. She hardly remembered those early days, though she would wake dreaming of it, one small hand clutching one small hand. Her bed was lonely and her heart was heavy on the nights that he was gone stealing.
The proposal was just the beginning of another stage, of commitment, of renewal, but it made her feel like she could breathe again. She touched her ring at odd moments, sliding it around on her finger as though she had to convince herself it was real. It was as real as her phantom thief fiance and his top hat. It was real. This love was something of substance, of golden bands and commitment.
When he kissed her at their wedding, it was like starting all over again, hands clutched anew, and she breathed in the church's air and thought that she was being born anew, shedding herself into another phase of life.
She held her husband tight.
Day/Theme: Oct 26 // phases
Series: Man of Many Faces
Character/Pairing: Akira/Utako
Rating: G
Excerpt: They stepped through the heady stages of romance in their elementary school years, one small hand in one small hand, and no one dared to tell them that love was hard, that lasting forever was nearly impossible.
The two of them went through phases. Every relationship did, and theirs was no exception. They stepped through the heady stages of romance in their elementary school years, one small hand in one small hand, and no one dared to tell them that love was hard, that lasting forever was nearly impossible.
Akira was always taller than her. Utako kept reaching and reaching. When she entered her teens they began to fight. He didn't understand her anger. She didn't understand it either. She was struggling with him and with herself.
"I don't know who I am," she told him one night, "so how can I know I love you?"
"I know," he said, reaching out to brush her cheek, "you are the same Utako I have always loved."
It was enough. The storms calmed. The Man of Many Faces was seen less and less often, as Akira spent his nights on dates. Even his mothers could not protest. They looked at each other and sighed, remembering the way his father had courted them. Oh, young love. More precious than jewels, and harder to find.
By the time Utako was nearly sixteen it seemed like she and Akira had been together forever. She hardly remembered those early days, though she would wake dreaming of it, one small hand clutching one small hand. Her bed was lonely and her heart was heavy on the nights that he was gone stealing.
The proposal was just the beginning of another stage, of commitment, of renewal, but it made her feel like she could breathe again. She touched her ring at odd moments, sliding it around on her finger as though she had to convince herself it was real. It was as real as her phantom thief fiance and his top hat. It was real. This love was something of substance, of golden bands and commitment.
When he kissed her at their wedding, it was like starting all over again, hands clutched anew, and she breathed in the church's air and thought that she was being born anew, shedding herself into another phase of life.
She held her husband tight.