| Seven
seconds. Seven seconds from the ground to a point so far above it that it's safe to let the bomb explode. Seven seconds to appreciate having his brother safe in his arms, although 'safe' is a relative word. Seven seconds to put into his eyes all the love he's buried so deep and held so precious, hidden away from the world, from his family, from its epicentre. Seven seconds to acknowledge his own mistake. Of never letting Peter know how much he loves him, how far his cravings go; how deeply they've festered over the years. Seven seconds is a long time to watch his brother dying; a star exploding, new life being born. Five seconds. Nathan tilts Peter's head back - cheeks glowing red with the internal fire, eyes ringed black with the searing destructive heat of it, hair singed at the roots already. And kisses him. Five point five seconds. A fiery tongue pushes into his mouth, surprising him, burning him, hands a flame on his back, fingers melting his shirt on his shoulders. The pain is excruciating but it's nothing compared to the agonising pain tearing his heart in two. Six seconds. Nathan strokes his fingers through ash-filled hair, cradling the back of Peter's scorching, scorched head, repeating his words into their kiss - 'I love you'. Six point five seconds. With all the strength that he's gathered from everyone he's met, from everyone around him, who's ever loved him, Peter pushes Nathan away from him, the momentum throwing both brothers away from one another, half a mile in opposite directions. Seven seconds. Boom. |