Story and Dumbapples

Story and Dumbapples

Flora Winter’s

I do not own Final Fantasy VII, and I’m not making any money here either.

Summary: All Genesis ever wanted was for someone to love him. This story will contain boy love, strong language, and violence.

Chapter One

My beloved does not even glance at me—what shall I do?
The heart’s wail he does not even hear, what shall I do?
In my heart he is forever present
But is unaware of its state, what shall I do?

Genesis’ eyes roamed longingly over the ancient words of a poet long since dead with such depression in their aquatic blue depths. He was now living what this amazing man must have went through. There was so much pain behind the words that instantly stirred up powerful emotions like a whirlwind from the glossy pages.

I am crazy for the luster of my beloved who is different
I am amazed by his beautiful form which is different
The rest are involved in cares and woes which are different
My fears and grief are about something that is different

Wet eyes glanced away from the sorrowful words, finding that the clock was reading four in the morning. It was so late, and yet he was not sleepy. A sudden glow filled the room, causing him to turn his head, looking at the foot of the bed he was resting on.

Violet streams of shimmering light were taking the brilliant form of a slender golden hue before him. The radiance was spinning around like a graceful dancer caught in a glittering whirlpool. It was Story. He was standing at his feet, looking at him with supreme boredom. The golden band sparkled around his upper arm.

“Are you going to sit there and read the words of a dead man until you’re old and grey?” The deadly Siren of the Sea asked, putting his slender hands on his narrow hips, rolling his dazzling amethyst eyes like ocean waves.

Genesis chose to ignore him, but it was really hard. The summoning was gorgeous and too beautiful to accurately describe in regal detail. He just simply chose to continue reading.

I am in sorrow, having sowed the seeds of lust
I now pluck flowers discolored a thousandfold
I must extinguish these flames
Before they become a blazing fire

“Too late,” he whispered under his breath, closing the book with a gentle snap. His lust and longing for the silver-haired vision to accept his feelings and advances was a raging volcanic explosion, consuming all in sight. His heart was like a beating jewel of molten magma within his breast. He longed for Sephiroth to cool the roaring inferno within him with his wintry caresses.

“Be careful what you long for,” Story told him, taking a seat at his bare feet. “Magma can become so hard when it cools.”

Genesis sat up, blowing fiery strands from his eyes in mild agitation. “Stay out of my mind.” He put the book down on his dresser beside the bed, glaring at the stunning creature before him. “You know nothing of my emotions,” he said, crossing his muscular arms across his powerful chest. “You’re just a weapon to be used in battle.”

Story didn’t even blink those startling eyes, but they did darken dramatically. They now looked the color of a bottomless abyss. They were darker than jewels of jet. The summoning turned his head, rising to his feet in a salty breeze. That hair of his was so dark it looked blue under the light above. It billowed across and down his slender shoulders, moving like the foam of the ocean.

“Then why not give me back to that Hojo?” Story asked him, gliding across the floor as if he were on ice, standing before the large window, looking out. Genesis watched him raise a shapely hand, and a violet-blue flash of lightning split the sky as if those clouds were made of fine crystal.

“I thought I told you to stay in that band until I needed you,” Genesis said, rising to his feet as well. He had dropped the band in the floor, at the foot of the bed, just to be mean. The summoning had soaked him and had pissed Sephiroth off at him. He had thought it only fair. “Why do you disobey?”

“I’m not some mindless minion you can just command on a whim,” Story said, spinning around, facing him with those penetrating eyes. His beauty was so sharp it could cut like a razor wire. The more he spoke with that haunting voice, the more beautiful he became. “You mortals can only control me up to a certain point.”

Genesis took a step towards him. “Maybe I will give you back to Professor Hojo.” He cocked his head to the side, smiling with perfect teeth. They were so white. “He doesn’t make the same mistake twice. I’m sure he can tighten the collar that should be around your neck.”

The siren smiled and his teeth were like shards of deadly glass. They looked as if they could fillet flesh from bone with a kiss. They reminded him of moonbeams piercing the surface of the ocean.

“Oh veiled one,” Story recited with such beauty. His perfect flesh began to glow like a golden rose. “Why don’t you reveal yourself? How long shall I search for your dwelling?”

Genesis had to cover his eyes. Was Story reciting the poem he had just been reading? Why was he doing that? His voice was filled with such raw emotion. It was actually very painful to listen to.

“I yearn to embrace you, hold you by my side,” Story said. His voice flowed as if from a golden harp in an undersea cavern. “How long will you stay hidden from me?”

That glow slowly faded away and Genesis blinked. Story suddenly looked so very, very young. He was all doe eyed, and timid looking. There was so much water within those fluid-like depths.

“I was once human,” Story told him. “I knew a love that made all others pale in comparison.” Thunder echoed, and lightning flashed from behind his slender frame, eerily illuminating him. “Who do you think that poem was written for?”

Genesis narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Story gave him a wicked smirk, vanishing in a flash more brilliant than a dying star landing in the ocean. A warm rush of sea air washed over the redhead as the golden band fell to the ground before him with a small clatter. He just looked at it with a confused expression on his handsome face.

“What?” He asked, walking over, picking it up. He held the delicate, yet sturdy band in his large hand. “Human?”

But…How could that be? He slipped the band into his pocket, walking from the room.

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Sephiroth opened his lime-green eyes, rolled over onto his side with a hiss, looking at the door with a venomous expression. Who the hell had the nerve to be pounding away at it at this late hour? The city had better be in flames, people had better be dead in the streets, and rocks had best be falling from the damn sky.

“What?” He asked, opening the door with a low growl in his pale throat.

“I can’t go to sleep,” Genesis said, looking right into his eyes. “Stay awake with me.”

Sephiroth slammed the door right in the redhead’s beautiful face. He stood there with his large hands balled into tight fists at his side. He had been sleeping so peacefully and then this idiot had to go and wake him up.

“Fine,” Genesis said from on the other side of the cold, metallic door. There was the tone of defeat in his voice. “I give up.”

Sephiroth blinked. Give up? Give up on what? What was he giving up on? He opened the door, finding that Genesis was no longer standing there. He poked his head out, looking this way and that. Genesis was nowhere to be seen.

He took a deep breath, letting it out ever so slowly, and finally just rolled his eyes. He had best go find him before he did something stupid…AGAIN!

He stepped out of his room, and nearly tripped over something. He looked down with eyes of acid green. It was a dumbapple. He had nearly fallen over a dumbapple. This was the fourth time. He was going to break that guys face.

TBC…

Please review and tell me what you think.

Flora.

Note: The poem above is from a book titled, Same-Sex Love in India. The poet’s name is Sarmad.