This is for the 30 Day BATB Celebration ! The link is there so you can read about it but this is for the prompt Midnight!
At 11:53 a.m., she wakes, her dark curls sticking to her face as she pants desperately, gasping for any air she can find. All breath has lost her body, it seems, and she searches desperately for oxygen to fill her lungs -- to relieve her, and oh god, how good it feels when it does!
At 11:54 a.m., Plumette reaches for something in the darkness, a dark hand clenching wretchedly at the thick, humid air. A layer of sweat covers her face, her bare arms and legs, her torso hidden by a thin nightshirt borrowed from her boyfriend Lumiere … and he lay next to her, sitting up after hearing her, heavy wheezes and soft sobbing. His hand extended into the air which, somehow, felt thick as though you could cut it with a knife. His soft hand grips Plumette’s sweaty one, and he trails his down to her shoulders before tugging her closer to him. She sobs into his chest, shaking with the debris of a nightmare weighing heavily on her mind.
At 11:55, Plumette pulls away from him with her breathing steadier than it had been. Lumiere is gazing at her, not speaking for just a moment before, very softly, as thought it were but a whisper, he asked her what was wrong.
“Cherie,” he whispers, bringing his hand up to gently run his thumb over her face, slick with the tears that had fallen a moment ago, “please, please, what is wrong?”
At 11:56, Plumette allows herself a moment to regain her composure and then lays back in bed, leaving Lumiere still in his sitting position, his blue eyes peering down at her, worry dripping from his irises and spilling onto her like rays of sun. “Mon coeur.” she speaks in a soft yet firm voice, reassuring Lumiere that, while clearly upset -- or more than upset -- she is okay. “I had a nightmare, Lumiere, and I lost you and -- what is it?”
Lumiere rests himself beside her, wrapping an arm beneath her shoulders as the clock in the corner of the room ticks to 11:57 in the morning. The clock, Plumette believes, reminded her of Cogsworth, except he was a clock, and she a featherduster, and Lumiere a candelabra. Had it really been just weeks prior, where Plumette’s feather had reached out to touch Lumiere’s brass face one last time before her soul departed from her form, the first to turn into a mere little knickknack? Lumiere replies to her question with a shake of his head. “I believe I know what you plan to say, Plumette, and we’ll never be those objects again. I assure you, I will protect you if it’s the last thing I do. Do you understand me, mon amour?”
11:58. A minute passes before Plumette swallows the lump in her throat and nods, wiping her tears on the back of her hand. The sky outside is dazzling with stars, and Plumette turns her head to stare at them before turning back to her lover, who stares at her with a lovestruck expression on his oh so gorgeous face. His eyes shine brighter than the stars outside, blue, blue, blue. Everything is blue, yet he shines yellow and she white. It is his eyes that she thinks of as she nods, leaning up to kiss his cheek graciously as they curl themselves into each other, Lumiere resting his cheek on her soft head of dark locks.
They mutter their mutual love for each other as the clock strikes 11:59. Plumette’s fingers dig into his arms, squeezing gently, a small declaration of their love for one another as the pair closes their eyes to go to sleep. She is well, and they are human. They are not objects. They were for a brief section of their lives and yet, it is over. They are together, and they’ll never be separated.
The clock chimes midnight, and the two lovers sleep at last.
