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Goodbye, Mr. Postman
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Author: Presser
Archive:
http://crimson.gwyaoi.com/beyondforever/Guest_Fanfiction/presser/presser.html
(others? just ask)
Pairings: 1x2
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters aren't mine
Rating: PG
Notes: AU, angst, songfic for Amazon's February contest
Feedback: Yes, please!
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Angel, is that you?
Where are you?
There! By the window, but suddenly gone.
And there, by the door, footsteps fading softly.
Dear God, am I losing it?
Aaaah!
* * *
Angel, I can feel it's not you. Your breath is pleasant 'gainst my skin, sweet, unhurried even in lovemaking. You do not steal coldly through the house, teasing me with the possibility of your presence. Your way is bold.
Surely I'm hearing things.
Angel, I wish it were not true, but I'm lonely. You told me you'd write, and I believe you. But I'm unable to do more than watch for the postman.
My time is spent longing for him, hoping that one day, /this/ day, he will bring me a sign that you're alright.
My heart is sore, Angel, my eyes red with crying for you.
I am consumed with fear that you have -- have forgotten me!
I've taken to sprawling on the back of the couch, catlike, one leg bent for support, my chin nestled in my hand. At the window I can see everything that matters:
shadow, wheel, driver,
gray-blue cloth,
leather bag bulging,
gloved hand reaching,
reaching, for --
As the postman turns, halfway up the walk, he waves his empty hand at the window. He knows I wait for him here. My only gift from him is a sad little smile. I slump off of the back of the couch, falling, falling, but never is the impact enough to --
I stand, walk, aimlessly through the house.
And as I walk to the beat of my heart inside, I feel like letting go.
Can't let go, though. You're too much a part of me, Angel.
* * *
The sun sets, air chills. In the half-light I wander to bed, another day without food touching my lips.
Exhaustion is my friend, the only one I have left.
In bed, clothes and sheets rumpled, I feel grateful for what's coming. When sleep takes me (a rare occurrence), I know I have a chance to reconnect with you. Tired as I am, weary of the pain, I can tell that I'll fall asleep this time, finally, finally. As my subconscious drags my
eyes shut, one final thought echoes through my mind: Oh darling, now in my dream you'll be tonight so --
* * *
Bright sky, cloudless.
Birds chirp quietly.
Lazing on the warm grass,
I turn to reach for cool water.
Postman lies next to me,
Fully dressed,
Leather bag upon his chest.
Deep blue eyes,
Your eyes, Angel,
Your face, Angel,
Smiling sadly, sweetly,
Under Postman's cap.
I reach to embrace --
Gone.
Vanished.
I'm sitting in my chair,
In my room,
Lights off,
All is dark.
An envelope glows softly,
Floating before me,
Slowly twisting in the air.
"Oh Mr. Postman," I cry aloud,
"Give me a sign.
Tell me you've a letter
To make me feel fine."
As I reach for the envelope,
It disintegrates,
Fairy dust,
Dandelion seeds floating in air,
Just beyond my reach.
Oh Angel, don't you know I am waiting here for you?
Postman!
Angel!
* * *
"Tell me it will be here tonight."
Day comes and goes, and I lose track.
How many days since the dream? Since I last slept?
I'm on the couch, waiting again, yearning for you, Angel, for a sign that you're alright.
My thoughts go to our last kiss.
* * *
You pulled back, unbelieving, amazed. My love for you was startling, but Angel, it shouldn't be. Have been. Baby it's the way that I feel. Baby, my Angel, my heart -- it won't conceal the depth of feeling I have for you.
* * *
Again Postman turns, halfway to my door, shrugging shoulders at the window, feeling sorry for me.
I slump off the back of the couch, beginning my afternoon ritual.
And as I walk to the beat of my heart inside, I feel like letting go.
Can't let go, though. You're too much a part of me, Angel.
* * *
Oh, oh! (tossing, turning)
Aahh! (neck twists, shoulders tense)
Oh! Oh! Aaahhh! (sheets, t-shirt, jeans, binding, restricting)
Oh tonight, he's in my heart! in my soul!
* * *
I sit up, sweating, wild-eyed.
I felt you, Angel.
You came and touched me as I slept.
I know with certainty that you are alright.
Joy in darkness,
My heartbeat subsides,
A grin on my face.
I fall back on damp sheets,
Awaiting a new day.
* * *
Today I've showered, brushed my long, long hair silky smooth, dressed. I tingle with the knowledge that today is the day.
As Postman rounds the corner, a look of surprise on his face. He dismounts his vehicle, a quirky smile in the corner of his mouth.
Sitting on the porch in the warm sun, I look up from my book to see his outstretched hand with a letter for me.
I reach, hesitate.
As he puts the envelope in my hand, a word: "Finally?"
"Yeah, finally," I say, with peace in my heart.
"Good!" he says, turning to complete his appointed rounds.
The familiar handwriting tells me all I need to know. I'll open this in the house, sitting at the kitchen table, with hot tea in a ceramic mug.
Sitting on the porch, I invent an ode to Postman, singing quietly to the cloudless sky.
And oh, Mr. Postman,
At last it's arrived.
Here I have a letter;
I know he's alive.
Oh don't you know there's
No more waiting here for him?
Now I won't write,
Now I won't write,
Now I won't write,
Now I won't write 'goodbye.'
My own letter can remain unwritten, now that I know you are alive, Angel.
I stand, stretch, using the letter as a bookmark. Just before I reach the door, I turn and look to the empty street.
"Goodbye, Mr. Postman."
~Owari~