ext_80204 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
amor-remanet.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rarepair_shorts2008-04-01 02:10 pm
amor-remanet.livejournal.com) wrote in rarepair_shorts2008-04-01 02:10 pm
Entry tags:
FICLET: Your Mouth and The Echoes (Zacharias/Cedric)
Title: Your Mouth and The Echoes
Pairing: Zacharias Smith/Cedric Diggory
Prompt: "not listening to a word"
Rating: PG.
Word Count: ~450.
Summary: "Even the noise around them fades into unimportance."
Author's Notes: So, I'm a sucker for titling things, and this entire series is titled Pequeño vals vienés. Why that title, in particular? Well, it's because this series will most likely be written under the influence of Leonard Cohen's "Take This Waltz" and the poem it was based on, Federico Garcia Lorca's "Little Viennese Waltz" (Pequeño vals vienés in the original Spanish). Both of them can be read here. Additionally: until the last installment, this series will look massively AU; explaining things would give them away, but, for the moment, it looks massively AU.
Link to Prompt Table: Aqui!
Cedric is talking; Zach knows that much. He can hear his boyfriend’s calm, lilting cadence and the warm tones that lace his letters like fires in winter and springtime every day. The syllables slip out, surreptitiously sweet, even though Cedric means to be saying something serious or other – it’s not his fault, the perfect way that his lips, teeth, and tongue shape the gentle words. Even the noise around them – which is quite substantial, given that they’ve taken up an outside table at this café – fades into unimportance. There’s no other fate for it. As much as Zacharias Smith, Hufflepuff alumnus and professional Chaser aged twenty-four, loves Vienna, it simply doesn’t matter when compared to Cedric Diggory, fellow Hufflepuff, aged twenty-seven.
He has a perfect face, Cedric does. Zach knows he doesn’t think so, but that’s just his charming modesty. Cedric’s face is perfect; in addition to this, it’s perfectly reflective of his perfect soul. He’s a work of art, although he disagrees, and he looks like a statue in the Belvedere – or in Florence’s Uffizi, where he took Zach on their last three-day weekend; he’s already planning to go to Moscow for their next one, since he holds that they see enough of Munich during weekend jaunts and Zach’s annual birthday pub-crawl, which he calls a “beer-hall stalk,” on the grounds that, in Germany, there are different words for “pub.” The only strange thing about Cedric’s beauty – the careless way his brown hair always looks just right; the soulful nature of those gray eyes; the effortlessness of his smile – is that he’s so unaware of it.
He was unaware of Zach’s affections for him, too, at least until Zach made them so very obvious. He’s unaware of a lot of things – true enough, he’s perceptive when it counts, but he’s so willing to suspend disbelief and, in turn, believe the best in people that he’s inevitably surprised when humans act like humans. More than anyone Zach has ever known, Cedric truly, deeply believes in love, a trait that has always come out in his features. That’s why the essays he writes for all those literary rags are so bloody sentimental. But, for some reason, they never manage to get old.
Cedric lifts up his cup of coffee and takes a careful sip. “Zach,” he sighs. “What did I just say?”
Zach looks up and stares at him in silence. “Your eyes have a little bit of green in them,” he comments after a moment. “Right there in the middle. …It’s almost blue. …Dunno why I’ve never seen it before…”
Affectionately, Cedric smiles and rolls his eyes; without a word, he leans across the table for a tender kiss.
Pairing: Zacharias Smith/Cedric Diggory
Prompt: "not listening to a word"
Rating: PG.
Word Count: ~450.
Summary: "Even the noise around them fades into unimportance."
Author's Notes: So, I'm a sucker for titling things, and this entire series is titled Pequeño vals vienés. Why that title, in particular? Well, it's because this series will most likely be written under the influence of Leonard Cohen's "Take This Waltz" and the poem it was based on, Federico Garcia Lorca's "Little Viennese Waltz" (Pequeño vals vienés in the original Spanish). Both of them can be read here. Additionally: until the last installment, this series will look massively AU; explaining things would give them away, but, for the moment, it looks massively AU.
Link to Prompt Table: Aqui!
Cedric is talking; Zach knows that much. He can hear his boyfriend’s calm, lilting cadence and the warm tones that lace his letters like fires in winter and springtime every day. The syllables slip out, surreptitiously sweet, even though Cedric means to be saying something serious or other – it’s not his fault, the perfect way that his lips, teeth, and tongue shape the gentle words. Even the noise around them – which is quite substantial, given that they’ve taken up an outside table at this café – fades into unimportance. There’s no other fate for it. As much as Zacharias Smith, Hufflepuff alumnus and professional Chaser aged twenty-four, loves Vienna, it simply doesn’t matter when compared to Cedric Diggory, fellow Hufflepuff, aged twenty-seven.
He has a perfect face, Cedric does. Zach knows he doesn’t think so, but that’s just his charming modesty. Cedric’s face is perfect; in addition to this, it’s perfectly reflective of his perfect soul. He’s a work of art, although he disagrees, and he looks like a statue in the Belvedere – or in Florence’s Uffizi, where he took Zach on their last three-day weekend; he’s already planning to go to Moscow for their next one, since he holds that they see enough of Munich during weekend jaunts and Zach’s annual birthday pub-crawl, which he calls a “beer-hall stalk,” on the grounds that, in Germany, there are different words for “pub.” The only strange thing about Cedric’s beauty – the careless way his brown hair always looks just right; the soulful nature of those gray eyes; the effortlessness of his smile – is that he’s so unaware of it.
He was unaware of Zach’s affections for him, too, at least until Zach made them so very obvious. He’s unaware of a lot of things – true enough, he’s perceptive when it counts, but he’s so willing to suspend disbelief and, in turn, believe the best in people that he’s inevitably surprised when humans act like humans. More than anyone Zach has ever known, Cedric truly, deeply believes in love, a trait that has always come out in his features. That’s why the essays he writes for all those literary rags are so bloody sentimental. But, for some reason, they never manage to get old.
Cedric lifts up his cup of coffee and takes a careful sip. “Zach,” he sighs. “What did I just say?”
Zach looks up and stares at him in silence. “Your eyes have a little bit of green in them,” he comments after a moment. “Right there in the middle. …It’s almost blue. …Dunno why I’ve never seen it before…”
Affectionately, Cedric smiles and rolls his eyes; without a word, he leans across the table for a tender kiss.