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這篇文章節錄自一個中三學生所寫的小說
It's a loud crack and a following ugly curse and a loud laugh that wake Javert. Soft bright light peeks through the thin curtains of the room, making him squint and squirm. He groans and puts his arm over his eyes.
Well then. He died. Again. Maybe this time, it was Valjean's kindness that was the death of him. It would be ironically poetic. He wonders what might have happened. Did he drown in the exquisite pillows and his breath was taken from him? Or perhaps he had come down with some sudden illness? Perhaps he was poisoned, with that warm drink that Valjean promised to bring? He laughs to himself. No, never that, Valjean would never do that. After all these years, all these lives, Javert knew him better than that.
And he would get to know him all over again, the moment he steps out of this bed. There was always that to look forward to, the one bright speck of light in this never-ending darkness.
There's a knock on the door. Mirielle Thanoux has surely come to apologize for her daughter crushing the teapot and to offer the breakfast that Javert will refuse. He does not feel like eating this morning.
"Javert, have I woken you up? Forgive me, but it appears that in my haste I have broken your plate. Cosette will prepare the breakfast instead."
Valjean's curly-haired head peeks from behind the door. He smiles when he notices Javert sitting up on the bed; the smile, however, quickly fades away and Valjean crosses the room to seat himself next to Javert. He puts his hand on Javert's forehead, checking if perhaps it is burning. It is not.
"Are you well?" he asks with concern. His hand slips down to rest on Javert's cheek. He does not move it any further. "You are not trembling anymore, but you are still pale. Has something happened after we have parted by the sewers?"
Javert swallows. He went to the bridge and he stood on the parapet, ready to once again jump into the black whirlpool below. He came off the parapet and walked here without an incident. Nothing has happened, nothing has happened at all.
Nothing save for him giving up on his own too high standards and allowing himself to live in this imperfect world just for a while longer.
He becomes painfully aware of Valjean's hand on his cheek, of the way Valjean is sitting all too close to be considered purely innocent, of the way Valjean's warm brown eyes bore holes in his soul. He licks his lips and Valjean's gaze immediately flickers there.
"This feels familiar," Valjean suddenly says. "It feels as if I'm supposed to--kiss you--right now."
Just the way they have countless times before, in a countless number of lives, over a chess set in Madeleine's house in Montreuil.
"You may," Javert hears himself say and is as stunned by the sound of his voice as Valjean is. "You may--kiss me--right now."
Valjean smiles that loving amused smile of his that's meant for Javert and Javert alone. His other hand comes to cup Javert's other cheek, he leans slightly in and does exactly that.
***
And this is how it ends.
***
(It's a loud crack and a following ugly and high-pitched curse that wake Javert. Soft light peeks through the heavy dusty curtains of the room, making him squint and squirm. He groans and puts his arm over his eyes.)
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發表於 16-11-25 12:27
