Author's Note: The song is a beautiful little piece by the Indigo Girls called "Love Will Come To You". It seemed so perfect for Zel... also it's been a grey and rainy day and this song just fit my mood, I guess... (Thanks to Homer for the MP3!)
*`-,--
Rain at night is such a strange thing.
Guess I wasn't the best one to ask
Me myself with my face pressed up against Love's glass
It's the noise, I think. Always a soft little whisper beneath every other sound. Sometimes it drives you mad and sometimes it lulls you to sleep like breathing.
Like her.
To see the shiny toy I've been hoping for
The one I never can afford
It's a ridiculous analogy, of course. She's nothing like the rain misting up my window. She's bright and capricious and utterly unreadable.
I envy her.
The wide world spins and spits turmoil
And the nations toil for peace
She knows. I know she does. She's so much brighter than the others... she must have figured out long ago. I've been careful, God knows I've done my best to hide, but I've let her so much closer than anyone else.
Not that I ever intended to.
The paws of fear upon your chest
Only love can soothe that beast
She snuck in, somehow. I don't know when--all I know is that she's become a slow steady ache beneath every vein. Close to the bone.
And my words are paper tigers
No match for the predator of pain inside her
I'm not sure that it's love--I've tried forcing the word past my lips, and it always turned to ash in my throat--but whatever it is, it feels like brimming over. Some days my entire being, body and soul, is buzzing with energy, taut and fevered, and some days I feel perfectly balanced.
Except for this damn chimeric body.
I say love will come to you
Hoping just because I spoke the words that they're true
I suppose that's part of the reason I've been such a coward about saying anything to her. I can't help it: being made of stone and wire tends to preclude having any sort of intimate relationship with a woman. It's an embarrassing truth, but a truth nonetheless.
Still, I prefer having her with me to help look for a cure.
As if I've offered up a crystal ball to look through
And where there's now one, there will be two
I remember one time we were translating a scroll together, and I was standing right behind her... God, I could smell her hair. It was so amazing, so rich, I just wanted to stop the moment and keep inhaling forever.
When I finally breathed out, though, I saw the breath stir a lock of hair falling across the back of her neck, and I almost felt every muscle in her body freeze.
I was born under the sign of Cancer
Like brushing cloth I smoothe the wrinkles for an answer
I had to keep myself steady. I was amazed at how easily the questions came--insignificant little quibbles about the text. But it took what seemed like ages for her perfect, perfect hair to fade to the back of my consciousness.
Because I'm always closing my eyes and wishing I'm fine
Even though I know I'm not this time
She's given me a book; another promising lead, she says. I keep turning it over and over in my hands, barely feeling the pages; her scent clings very faintly to it, an almost indistinguishable note above the familiar smell of ink and old paper.
I say love will come to you
Hoping just because I spoke the words that they're true
I can't translate the whole thing. I need her help. If she isn't asleep yet, I'll ask her...
I know I'm making excuses. I don't care.
As if I've offered up a crystal ball to look through
And if there's now one, there will be two
When I reach the door of her room, I pause. A wave of something strong and hot blinds me for a moment, and I have to lean against the wall to steady myself.
Dodging your memories, a field of knives
Always on the outside, looking in on others' lives
I can hear her inside, her small feet moving back and forth across the floor.
What is she thinking about? Is she running her hands through her hair, or holding them close over her heart? Is she fuming over a possible obstacle, or simply walking to clear her head?
I say love will come to you
Hoping just because I spoke the words that they're true
I look down at the book in my hands, then clear my throat.
As if I've offered up a crystal ball to look through
And where there's now one, there will be two
"Hey, Lina?"
The footsteps stop abruptly.
And I wish her insight to battle love's blindness
My heart surges. Suddenly my throat has gone completely dry. God, I hope she doesn't kill me... I hope she doesn't suspect...
I'm here to discuss the translation and nothing else...
Strength from the milk of human kindness
"Lina, are you still up? There's something I want to talk to you about."
A safe place for all the pieces that scattered
Silence. My hands feel numb. Damn it, this is pathetic and I have to see her now...
"Lina... please...?"
Learn to pretend there's more than love that matters
And the door swings open, and I hope to God she doesn't hear my breath catch in my throat.
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