On Fire, White Collar, PG-15
Sep. 19th, 2010 07:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veronicasleepsTitle: On Fire
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
veronicasleeps
Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Neal, Kate
Warnings/Spoilers: Self Harm,
Summary: Fire burns, Neal thinks, fire hurts.
Notes: Let me know your favourite word, or your least favourite. Just do let me know.
Fire burns, Neal thinks. Fire hurts.
He's watching the flame of the candle, flickering light in the darkness of his apartment. He is concentrated fully on it, every nerve ending in his body can feel the heat where it almost meets the skin of his forearm, and he clenches his jaw in preparation.
His left sleeve is rolled up, so it won't catch fire, and his wrist watch is on the table, right next to the candle. There's no table cloth covering the surface. Too dangerous.
When the arm ticks away over the twelve, Neal forces himself to hold his arm into the searing hotness of the large golden flame.
"Fire burns," he whispers, his face twisted in pain. "Fire hurts."
It kills, is what he doesn't say. Explosives need less than a minute to kill a person, to destroy them utterly.
He's shaking now, sweating so much that it's dripping from his forehead, running down his neck, but it's barely been half a minute. Not enough, not enough to understand what it feels like to burn.
Tears are running out his eyes, and he can't look at the flame that's turning his flesh blistering red anymore. He wrenches his head to the side, and his crying eyes meet Kate's still, painted one's.
He keeps the arm as still as he can, with the shaking of his body and holds her heavy gaze. Then, it's like he's cold, so cold, the searing heat turning into freezing cold and it's too much.
His arm jerks the candle, and it falls over.
White hot wax spills over and stains his table; some droplets hit his skin, but it doesn't hurt any more, doesn’t burn because his entire nervous system is in flames.
Flames that still don’t manage to burn away the memories.
Author:
veronicasleeps Rating: PG-15
Characters/Pairings: Neal, Kate
Warnings/Spoilers: Self Harm,
Summary: Fire burns, Neal thinks, fire hurts.
Notes: Let me know your favourite word, or your least favourite. Just do let me know.
Fire burns, Neal thinks. Fire hurts.
He's watching the flame of the candle, flickering light in the darkness of his apartment. He is concentrated fully on it, every nerve ending in his body can feel the heat where it almost meets the skin of his forearm, and he clenches his jaw in preparation.
His left sleeve is rolled up, so it won't catch fire, and his wrist watch is on the table, right next to the candle. There's no table cloth covering the surface. Too dangerous.
When the arm ticks away over the twelve, Neal forces himself to hold his arm into the searing hotness of the large golden flame.
"Fire burns," he whispers, his face twisted in pain. "Fire hurts."
It kills, is what he doesn't say. Explosives need less than a minute to kill a person, to destroy them utterly.
He's shaking now, sweating so much that it's dripping from his forehead, running down his neck, but it's barely been half a minute. Not enough, not enough to understand what it feels like to burn.
Tears are running out his eyes, and he can't look at the flame that's turning his flesh blistering red anymore. He wrenches his head to the side, and his crying eyes meet Kate's still, painted one's.
He keeps the arm as still as he can, with the shaking of his body and holds her heavy gaze. Then, it's like he's cold, so cold, the searing heat turning into freezing cold and it's too much.
His arm jerks the candle, and it falls over.
White hot wax spills over and stains his table; some droplets hit his skin, but it doesn't hurt any more, doesn’t burn because his entire nervous system is in flames.
Flames that still don’t manage to burn away the memories.
