Davelijah drabbles
Jan. 28th, 2004 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aleathielTwo Davelijah drabbles, both first written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iscaris who started this whole Davelijah thing.
Well, that's not strictly true, but I'm blaming her anyway! (And since I've been looking for the right pairing for David, why not try this one?)
Vigil
It’s a long night.
The cold seeps through into his bones, but he no longer shivers. He’s cold inside, like there’s no warmth left in his blood. Cold fear.
If there is a God, Elijah wants to know it. He needs reassurance like he’s never needed before.
Long hours tiptoe by in silence. His muscles no longer respond, his legs go numb beneath him, but he doesn’t need them. He isn’t going to move.
He can’t quite see the moon through the window, but he watches the stars through that long night as he kneels by David’s bed and prays.
Madness
It’s an ugly corridor and the walls look like a padded cell, but aren’t nearly as comfortable to lean against. Not that Elijah’s ever been in a padded cell.
Maybe he should have, because surely only insanity would drive him to sit here in this cold corridor after the others have gone. Only insanity would make him wait, concerned, for hours for David to appear from what was only a normal interview.
And there is no reason for his frown, his irritation. His worry. Because sometimes interviews take longer than expected.
Yes, it must be insanity.
It can’t be love.
iscaris who started this whole Davelijah thing.Well, that's not strictly true, but I'm blaming her anyway! (And since I've been looking for the right pairing for David, why not try this one?)
Vigil
It’s a long night.
The cold seeps through into his bones, but he no longer shivers. He’s cold inside, like there’s no warmth left in his blood. Cold fear.
If there is a God, Elijah wants to know it. He needs reassurance like he’s never needed before.
Long hours tiptoe by in silence. His muscles no longer respond, his legs go numb beneath him, but he doesn’t need them. He isn’t going to move.
He can’t quite see the moon through the window, but he watches the stars through that long night as he kneels by David’s bed and prays.
Madness
It’s an ugly corridor and the walls look like a padded cell, but aren’t nearly as comfortable to lean against. Not that Elijah’s ever been in a padded cell.
Maybe he should have, because surely only insanity would drive him to sit here in this cold corridor after the others have gone. Only insanity would make him wait, concerned, for hours for David to appear from what was only a normal interview.
And there is no reason for his frown, his irritation. His worry. Because sometimes interviews take longer than expected.
Yes, it must be insanity.
It can’t be love.
