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[FREE!] There is no-one who loves the seashore like the waves do
Titolo: There is nobody who loves the shore like the sea's waves do
Fandom: Free!
Personaggi: Haruka/Nagisa
Genere: romantico, fluff
Avvertimenti: AU, plot? what plot, in inglese
Parole: 1038
Note: per la Under the... Challenge @![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
maridichallenge aka la tradizionale challenge per il pesce d'aprile (e peraltro quest'anno ci sono cascata con tutte le pere XD) L'AU è una cosa che ho usato fin troppo e ho già scritto una cosa simile, sempre nagiharu... ma non mi veniva in mente nient'altro coi pesci ;A; e quindi niente, amen. Almeno ho rotto il silenzio dopo il COW-T, posso prendermi lu strisciulinu e ho scritto qualcosa! XD yaaaay~
The snow melted long ago, on the beach, houses and streets of quiet Iwatobi. Now on the soft, shapeless sand shines a hot, dry sun, the rays of which are barely hidden by a veil of light, white clouds. A fresh breeze with the deep scent of salt blows by every few seconds, as if some wind was trying to lick the hard sun away from Nagisa's face. But his element is there, the light and the warmth, it makes his eyes droop in satisfaction and lethargy like a lizard as he sits on the scorching sand with his pale torso exposed. Despite the fact that the sand even hurts from how hot it is, it's also weirdly satisfying to be burnt by it, and he smiles throwing his head back, his hair glimmer shiny and soft in the strong embrace of sunrays.
He waits, sitting there fidgety. He's been waiting all year, since last summer, he saw fall covering his town in dried out leaves and his days shorten, then the snowflakes cover everything in a gelid white veil, and then green came back all around town on trees and gardens dotted with blooming color. Now that the warmth is back luring everyone else out of their homes as well, he sits on the beach with a bouncing beat in his guts and throat, his feet and legs moving on their own with nervousness. He does not expect anything to happen while the sun is up anyway, but looking at the waves slap with regular quiet against the shoreline makes his heart pump hard, and besides this is the only place it feels right sitting by, in longing. The sea, the blue womb that gave him life. And then love: blue like its origin.
Thinking of those eyes, big and deep and pure, makes an eager, uncontainable smile crack across his face, and right then another blow of wind rushes against his face like a gentle caress which he gladly welcomes with eyes fluttering close. Today it'll happen for sure. He just needs to wait a few more hours, and then he'll come.
When the sky turns into an almost black ceiling after a few more long, estenuating hours, his stomach begins hurting with hunger, maybe, but mostly anticipation: his guts twisting, his throat constricting, his whole body tenseing, and his eyes squinting to not miss a mop of dark hair emerging from the waves are signs from his body and mind that he waited enough, it felt like a lifetime, and now sitting there for even five minutes would be torture because it's happening and it's so close. He loses count of the beats in his ear pumping fast and frenetic, his hands grip on the now colder sand, and even though his body trembles with the evening's dropped temperature he still sits, aching for something to happen. Having a phone to check his time on is almost a curse, because the number of minutes and hours never seems to change, when it does a spark of light seems to flicker on while something clenches around his guts, never letting go, only tightening its hold. It's agony. But the unrest in his whole body is something they told him to treasure while he's young, it is something he will be fond of. Of tonight, then, he wants to remember everything.
The moment he does actually see something between the waves, his heart pumps suddenly faster with an unexpected rush of adrenaline; he stands up in a second and his sight blurs from the apparent tears forming in his eyes. It's him, the boy that last year came from the sea and quietly snatched Nagisa's loud and thumping heart, keeping it all for himself and dragging it down to the bottom of the unknown sea.
"Haru-chan," Nagisa croaks, with his pink gaze searching for the merman he fell in love with like a child. "Haru-chan?"
"Na-gi-sa." The three syllables of his name are pronounced fast and dry, by the sea creature's young and dream-like voice. Nagisa's breath gets trapped between his shoulders, making his chest inflate trapping air until it shakes out with a loud exhale.
"Na-gi-sa."
It sounds closer now together with the crawling sound of hands, and the notes of Haruka's voice are thick with barely concealed joy and moved excitement as well. Even in the dark he still is the most beautiful and amazing thing Nagisa's ever seen, with an elegant body and an other-worldly aura. He drags his body out of the water, and Nagisa runs in his direction then sits down again only to throw his arms around the sea's son's neck, already shaking with happiness.
"I missed you, Haru-chan," he whines out loud, before sitting back to look at the other with a shiver: hugging a wet body made the cold seep under his own skin.
He looks down at the long fish-like tail flicking on the sand, at the way scales melt into smooth skin where Haruka's hip bones should be, and then up his slender body kept together by fit and young muscles until their eyes meet again, Nagisa's deep pink staring into Haruka's blue until their gazes melt together.
And then the merman's lips curve with a gentle smile, his eyes shimmer in the darkness.
"I back," he replies slowly, with a light and soft touch to Nagisa's plump and round cheek.
"Welcome back," Nagisa replies in a loud cheer, bouncing with energy as he sits cross-legged near the place where salty, cold water slaps the sand. "I waited for you."
Haruka looks back at him, following the soft lines of Nagisa's basic features and then focusing back on his sweet, innocently pure eyes.
"I here," he finally spells out slower and softer, with a little but sincere smile warming his face up to his eyes which glitter, moved.
In the darkness they cannot see one another well, but their fingers recognize each other anyway, intertwining with sand sticking to their skin, uncomfortable, but confirming their contact is real. Their lips brush together too, as shy and clumsy as they were the year before. But until the end of summer, they have many nights to make it better.
Fandom: Free!
Personaggi: Haruka/Nagisa
Genere: romantico, fluff
Avvertimenti: AU, plot? what plot, in inglese
Parole: 1038
Note: per la Under the... Challenge @
maridichallenge aka la tradizionale challenge per il pesce d'aprile (e peraltro quest'anno ci sono cascata con tutte le pere XD) L'AU è una cosa che ho usato fin troppo e ho già scritto una cosa simile, sempre nagiharu... ma non mi veniva in mente nient'altro coi pesci ;A; e quindi niente, amen. Almeno ho rotto il silenzio dopo il COW-T, posso prendermi lu strisciulinu e ho scritto qualcosa! XD yaaaay~The snow melted long ago, on the beach, houses and streets of quiet Iwatobi. Now on the soft, shapeless sand shines a hot, dry sun, the rays of which are barely hidden by a veil of light, white clouds. A fresh breeze with the deep scent of salt blows by every few seconds, as if some wind was trying to lick the hard sun away from Nagisa's face. But his element is there, the light and the warmth, it makes his eyes droop in satisfaction and lethargy like a lizard as he sits on the scorching sand with his pale torso exposed. Despite the fact that the sand even hurts from how hot it is, it's also weirdly satisfying to be burnt by it, and he smiles throwing his head back, his hair glimmer shiny and soft in the strong embrace of sunrays.
He waits, sitting there fidgety. He's been waiting all year, since last summer, he saw fall covering his town in dried out leaves and his days shorten, then the snowflakes cover everything in a gelid white veil, and then green came back all around town on trees and gardens dotted with blooming color. Now that the warmth is back luring everyone else out of their homes as well, he sits on the beach with a bouncing beat in his guts and throat, his feet and legs moving on their own with nervousness. He does not expect anything to happen while the sun is up anyway, but looking at the waves slap with regular quiet against the shoreline makes his heart pump hard, and besides this is the only place it feels right sitting by, in longing. The sea, the blue womb that gave him life. And then love: blue like its origin.
Thinking of those eyes, big and deep and pure, makes an eager, uncontainable smile crack across his face, and right then another blow of wind rushes against his face like a gentle caress which he gladly welcomes with eyes fluttering close. Today it'll happen for sure. He just needs to wait a few more hours, and then he'll come.
When the sky turns into an almost black ceiling after a few more long, estenuating hours, his stomach begins hurting with hunger, maybe, but mostly anticipation: his guts twisting, his throat constricting, his whole body tenseing, and his eyes squinting to not miss a mop of dark hair emerging from the waves are signs from his body and mind that he waited enough, it felt like a lifetime, and now sitting there for even five minutes would be torture because it's happening and it's so close. He loses count of the beats in his ear pumping fast and frenetic, his hands grip on the now colder sand, and even though his body trembles with the evening's dropped temperature he still sits, aching for something to happen. Having a phone to check his time on is almost a curse, because the number of minutes and hours never seems to change, when it does a spark of light seems to flicker on while something clenches around his guts, never letting go, only tightening its hold. It's agony. But the unrest in his whole body is something they told him to treasure while he's young, it is something he will be fond of. Of tonight, then, he wants to remember everything.
The moment he does actually see something between the waves, his heart pumps suddenly faster with an unexpected rush of adrenaline; he stands up in a second and his sight blurs from the apparent tears forming in his eyes. It's him, the boy that last year came from the sea and quietly snatched Nagisa's loud and thumping heart, keeping it all for himself and dragging it down to the bottom of the unknown sea.
"Haru-chan," Nagisa croaks, with his pink gaze searching for the merman he fell in love with like a child. "Haru-chan?"
"Na-gi-sa." The three syllables of his name are pronounced fast and dry, by the sea creature's young and dream-like voice. Nagisa's breath gets trapped between his shoulders, making his chest inflate trapping air until it shakes out with a loud exhale.
"Na-gi-sa."
It sounds closer now together with the crawling sound of hands, and the notes of Haruka's voice are thick with barely concealed joy and moved excitement as well. Even in the dark he still is the most beautiful and amazing thing Nagisa's ever seen, with an elegant body and an other-worldly aura. He drags his body out of the water, and Nagisa runs in his direction then sits down again only to throw his arms around the sea's son's neck, already shaking with happiness.
"I missed you, Haru-chan," he whines out loud, before sitting back to look at the other with a shiver: hugging a wet body made the cold seep under his own skin.
He looks down at the long fish-like tail flicking on the sand, at the way scales melt into smooth skin where Haruka's hip bones should be, and then up his slender body kept together by fit and young muscles until their eyes meet again, Nagisa's deep pink staring into Haruka's blue until their gazes melt together.
And then the merman's lips curve with a gentle smile, his eyes shimmer in the darkness.
"I back," he replies slowly, with a light and soft touch to Nagisa's plump and round cheek.
"Welcome back," Nagisa replies in a loud cheer, bouncing with energy as he sits cross-legged near the place where salty, cold water slaps the sand. "I waited for you."
Haruka looks back at him, following the soft lines of Nagisa's basic features and then focusing back on his sweet, innocently pure eyes.
"I here," he finally spells out slower and softer, with a little but sincere smile warming his face up to his eyes which glitter, moved.
In the darkness they cannot see one another well, but their fingers recognize each other anyway, intertwining with sand sticking to their skin, uncomfortable, but confirming their contact is real. Their lips brush together too, as shy and clumsy as they were the year before. But until the end of summer, they have many nights to make it better.