Thread: Of Psychosis and Salvation

Every touch made Athrun's eyes wince in the slightest. It wasn't that it hurt, but the phantom pains still remained when someone touched his marks - like the soldiers he had helped move on with their crazed visions driving them towards insanity of a war that had ended long ago but for them was still alive and well. Eventually the pain faded as he heard Red's anguished words slip from his mouth as if the very word was painful and foreign to say. His eyes opened then and he saw the crystalline tears sliding from the grey eyes like rain drops. He saw the surprise and couldn't help but be surprised himself. Very few had ever wept for him, and this was a first from just seeing the scars. Some had had to hear the story before being able to garner the capacity to cry. Just sight alone had moved him. No wonder he was still beautiful. Even crazed and raw, Red could still make himself even more beautiful. Was it cruel to think his tears made him a stunning sight to behold? Did it make him cruel that he wanted to see those tears more than just once? Perhaps it did. Human tears were just beautiful like a rainbow after a storm Rare but stunning. When yellow eyes met grey, there was no judgment, no offense, but an understanding and acceptance of the mentality that made up who Red was and a softness as he looked at the light tracks left by the tears. As Red took off his shirt, Athrun saw the kind of man that Red could have been without insanity creeping up over himself and the abuse he had been through. It was a comforting sight and yet he knew that Red would have his moods and his changes in thought and behavior. Yet Athrun looked forward to it. He wanted that insanity mixed with normalcy. Red was never dull. He surprised him at every turn. He was tempted to touch the tear-streaked cheeks but held back as Red combed his fingers through his hair and then spoke before placing a hand over his heart. It beat slower than a human's, but it still beat and Red was making it skip at his delicateness. I'm known as an Angerous...These scars and words are for my sins amongst my kind. Some humans are brutalized for their skin color, yes? I was given the same treatment for my eyes and hair. I did not choose it, but it is what I was given. I also did not follow their codes and so they took out their anger on my flesh. My ways could only be forgiven so much before my differences became my downfall. When my kind injures one another, the wounds heal as scars as you can see, Athrun said after Red laid over him and stroked his face with light fingers. He couldn't help but use one of his hands to stroke the wet cheeks very gently, feeling Red's heat soak into his skin like the rays of the sun. It was warm and inviting. You're beautiful to me, Red. Will you stay with me? What that implied could be taken however Red decided to interpret it. Athrun would never overstay his welcome, but he was like a butterfly in a net- caught and held secure in the man's embrace. How long would it be before that insanity bled in through his skin to his brain? It didn't seem like it would take long. He was already letting the man touch him and it had only been a day. He wondered how much more information would be shed how much more pain would they endure? How much more cruelty would they live through? It seemed like endless questions but Athrun could feel a small smile curve his lips as he watched Red.