The Kiss of Life
Aug. 6th, 2011 03:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
svetlanacat6
The enemy was close and there nowhere to hide, except those bushes. The night was so clear, as clear as a Winter night can be. He was sitting on the ground and raised his head. There were so many stars that he couldn't identify the constellations. He couldn't either count them... Being on the watch was part of an Uncle agent's job, not the most interesting, but it have to be done. So... He didn't feel cold. At least..
Something creaked, causing him to duck his head. It wasn't his partner. Too noisy. The creak didn't reoccur. It could be the cold. The bushes were adorned with delicate frozen patterns. However, when in doubt...
And he was right. Something creaked again, closer. More precisely, the frozen snow crunched. Someone walked, careless. His whole body stiffened, so that he wasn't sure he could move. A silhouette appeared, brushing the bushes aside, and the frost flied in the air. The man looked around, muttering. The crunch lowered, the enemy moving away.
He sighed with relief. He did hope his partner was safe. He knew he should try to join him. Before he realized what he was doing, he moved in action, creeping under the bush, and craning forward.
Nobody. Just some traces in the frozen snow. He assessed the distance separating him from his friend. A large expanse of a perfectly white snow, without any obstacle, which meant without any shelter. Anyway, he had to go.
He breathed, stood up and started running. Quickly, but with the lightness of a cat. And... silently. No crunch. Not the slightest crunch. And no traces.
He hesitated, but he couldn't stay there. Eventually, he chose to crawl under the bushes. The Thrush men were careless, his partner wasn't. The Russian was on the watch. Almost lifeless. He hardly breathed, his gaze fixed on his target.
And he heard the crunch again. So did his friend. He turned to the sound, a knife appearing in his hand, like magic. No feeling on this face. Just an intense concentration. Such an intense one that he didn't pay attention to him. Not even the expected infuriated look. The enemy was closer. They could hear his heavy gait, his heavy breathe. Two hands grabbed the bush, moving the branches apart. At the very moment he saw the Russian, the knife had already killed him. Well done. As usual... He smiled at his efficient partner who was, although, still ignoring him. Was he sulking ?
No. His efficient partner... didn't see him. He stretched his hand in order to grip his friend's wrist, and he just grabbed... air.
He felt cold, now. He shook with the cold. He lay under that frozen bush, in this frozen snow. An hallucination? Was he already... dead? Probably Or, he was dying. He was so cold. He was dying, and he knew that for sure. Where was his partner? Not there.
In spite of the night, the light was dazzling... The white cold was dazzling. It burnt his eyes, and he closed them. He was motionless. He didn't even shake, now. He heard again crunches, but it was an illusion. It was getting harder to breathe. Painful. He had to stop breathing.
He felt lips touching his.
Would it be his last feeling? His last thought?
It was an illusion... but it was worth the price.
Those lips were all but gentle. They were urging, insistent. They blew air. They forced air in his lungs. They blew warmth. Pain. Again and again.
Fingers rubbed his cheeks, ruthlessly. And those lips, again and again, blowing air, forcing it in his lungs. Blowing life. The kiss of life. Russian curses.
The kiss of life.
If he survived...
no subject
Date: 2011-08-06 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-06 07:53 pm (UTC)Thank you for reading!