This Is Too Amazing - Tumblr Posts
Happy Birthday Leonardo!
A/N: I wrote this when I finished Leonardo's route but wanted to post it on his birthday 🎉 I think it's a nice little bookend to the angst in this fic
It's meant to take place right after the ball at the end of his romantic ending.
NSFW but not explicitly.
Pairing: Leonardo, his thoughts (and MC is there too)
Word Count: 630
This is dedicated to @aquagirl1978 for all the encouragement and support. ❤
The ball is over. Your beautiful gown, so dazzling and bright, is now a crumpled pile in a darkened corner of my room. My clothing is….somewhere. That could be my shirt thrown haphazardly over that pile of journals. My shoes may have been lost to the black hole under the bed. Did my jacket even make it through the bedroom door?
It does not matter.
How could any of that matter when you are here, your cheek resting on my bare shoulder, hand splayed across my chest, over my heart.
You are beautiful. Is that the right word? Hard to think right now. But I'll try. I need to try and remember every moment, from the grip of your hand on mine as we fled the ballroom, impatient and eager to get away, to your nightingale laughter as we ran through the halls. Your room, my room, hell the library would have served (although Comte would have WORDS about that one). Luckily, my room was closer.
We burst through the door. Lumière wisely chose that moment to flee, weaving between our stumbling legs and escaping through the closing the door like a shadow slipping into the night.
I kissed you. I cupped your face in my hands and drew you in like oxygen, felt your sighs seep through my skin and wrap around my bones.
I am good with my hands. Always have been. I unwrapped you con finezza, peeled you out of your layers, my mouth never losing contact with your skin.
And you, cara mia, were as nimble, as breathless as I was. My clothes fell away, shed like the petals of a plucked flower.
We fell onto the bed. Only a few papers needed to be shoved aside with impatient, hurried hands.
Hands. Yeah I remember hands.
I had the hands of an explorer, mapping my way across your body, finding every slope and dip, every hollow. Retracing the paths I had learned before, finding new directions to those destinations I longed for. No part of you was left untouched.
I had the hands of a sculptor, filling my palms with you, molding and pressing and coaxing to get what I wanted out of my medium.
I had the hands of a musician and you were my bow, bending beneath me as I played, your music filling my ears.
I had the hands of an architect, building you a soft place to land in my arms as you came down from the heights we had chased each other to. My compagna. Carissima mia.
And then, breathing hard, flushed with pleasure, you smiled at me. Open and radiant, your love spilling out of you, the sun cracked open. A smile whose warmth I could never capture correctly, not with all the shades of paint in the world. The opposite of the smile I am most remembered for.
Now, cocooned by the night and my bedsheets, I hold you close, your body draped over mine. My fingers trace a filigree over the soft skin of your shoulder. You study the shape of your fingers as they rest over my heart.
“Leonardo?”
“Mmm?” My eyes are heavy. Such is the peace you gift me with your presence.
“I love you.”
I feel it. The way I smile, unbidden, unburdened. The broken pieces of my heart are pieced back together, repaired with the gold of your love and your touch and your time, the time you have chosen to spend with me.
“I love you too, cara mia.”
With you, I have found that part of me that was lost. I am complete. And even when your time with me ends, as it inevitably will, the memory of you, of us, will hold me together.
I will not break again.