Colour of the Sky

"You are so tired mon cher, I can see the bags underneath your eyes and when I look into them I only see a broken man."

Arms curl around a waist only to be thrown away.

"Leave me alone spook."

"But you are my favourite distraction mon Amour. Life is so very boring without you within reaching distance."

A gloved hand pulls idly on a Sniper's hat, pulling off the offending item and discarding it behind him. Gentle hands pull the other's head into his own lap, where he can comb through short brown hair and stubble that is becoming unruly.

"You are so tired, I can nearly see the thoughts clouding in your mind. I cannot let you stay like this, you know that?"

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Do you want me to?"

He doesn't respond, head turning to face the wall of his nest and prison. The air is musty and stale as he sighs, every particle reeking of desperation.

"Maybe."

Diligent hands do not stop, trying to calm the man laying in their owner's lap. He sighs again as if trying to shift a weight in his lungs, he turns so his face is hidden in a pinstriped jacket and thin arms protect his back.

"You do not sleep, I feel you shift at night and I know you are awake. You stare at the sky a lot, or at the ground..."

He trails a finger over the bridge formed by the Sniper's spine, following a path only he knew.

"I miss your eyes, I miss how you used to look at me."

"I miss it too."

Another sigh escapes, but the spy is the one responsible. Hands pull at hair and face so the smaller of the two can lie back with the other's head rested on his chest, it feels empty and heavy at the same time.

"What a disaster we are, I can see a cheesy romance being written about us."

Tired eyes do not turn up, they are looking out the gap between the planks in the wall to watch the clouds. Something out there is more satisfying than focusing on the room, but only known by the men and women who so obsessed over the pale and dark blues of the sky. Spy's own eyes gain a haze, trying to follow the other's gaze to watch the quiet sky.

"I do not know what you find so interesting about the sky, it is so quiet and slow."

"Exactly."

Fingers pull up to stroke over Sniper's hair, lulling the man to close his eyes and finally rest against the safety of another's embrace. Maybe he slept, maybe he finally got some sleep against the tiredness that plagued him throughout the hours of days and nights. He didn't hope for anything of that kind, still stroking the hair of his lover and watching the sky.

"The sky is the colour of your eyes."

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth faintly and he closes his eyes against the heartbeat of the man resting on him and the wind blowing the clouds gently across the sky.