Hey, Taluliaka here!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed my last story Knives, especially Pumpkinator who suggested more. Happy reading:D

Disclaimer: No, I do not own V for Vendetta the graphic novel. But seeing as how Alan Moore refused to associate himself with the film, is there any chance I can steal the movie V? And his aprons, of course…

Alone

Every time she wakes it is to music. Sharp, floating notes drift around her room in the absence of sunshine, and wakes her from slumber every morning. Or what she suspects is morning, what with V's obscene cheeriness and his loud aprons.

This night however, she is jolted awake by vivid dreams, and is met by silence. Lights still flicker out in the passageway, so V is still awake. She wonders when he sleeps. If he sleeps. The absence of a smoky tune or a slow, melancholy rhythm draws Evey to her feet, worried. All at once she is aware of the echoing space that surrounds her and the ominous shadows of teetering books fill her with sudden dread. Silence suddenly terrifies her, as it has not done in years and she flees towards the light.


V is sprawled in a chair, his legs flung out in front of him and the blank mask tipped back in a contemplative manner, as if studying the crevices of the stone ceiling. Or he could be asleep and the mask gives an illusion of deep thought.

She hovers, as she always does. Never once has he tried to seek out her company or intrude upon her own internal reflection. At first, she thought it was just courtesy but now she suspects it is habit. After all he has lived alone for ten years, with only his own thoughts for company.

All at once a gloved hand raises and moves in an inviting manner. He has been aware of her presence. With mortification Evey wonders how long she's been staring at him. He does not look at her though, and as she sits across from him, she blushes deeply, privately grateful for his supposed inattention.

'Evey. What can I do for you?'

His voice has lost none of its rich texture despite the attitude of his repose and Evey begins to feel more relaxed.

'Oh nothing…I just had a dream…I woke up and lights were on out here…'

The mask tips forward slowly and regards her. As always, Evey fancies she can see a glimmer of light in those dark slits, an emotion to match his body language and flamboyant words but she deceives herself. They are black, as always and fiercely intense.

'A dream?'

Evey nods, looking down at her hands. Somehow everything she does, every action, every word, seems to make her sound more childish and selfish.

'I have always believed that dreams should have no control over the conscious mind. Dreams are but fragments of twisted thoughts, randomly pushed forward by the mind during slumber, and should be regarded as such. Random.'

Her eyes move, as always, to his hands. She remembers the scarring that first morning and suspicion dawns in her heart. Insomnia must be contagious.

'And do you apply these observations to your own dreams?'

If he hears the slight bite to her voice, he doesn't mention it. He does, however, stand abruptly, moving away and Evey can almost hear the distinctive slam of a door in his mind. His past is closed to her, as it always has been, and the conversation is over.

She immediately feels regret and surges to her feet, calling, 'V?'

He turns slightly and the white glow of his mask catches the light.

'Could we…could you take me up to the roof?'

Even as the question is spoken, Evey feels desire rise up in her, to feel the wind on her skin, to see the dizzying expanse of the sky above. The mask regards her again, and its grin appears icy.


As soon as they step out of the lift onto the roof, Evey lets out a laugh and runs forward, her arms spread wide in happiness as a sea of stars wheeled overhead. The moon shone with silver fire and the other buildings were just indistinct black shapes on the earth's crust. The air was freezing but with the sharp bite came a wild feeling of being alive. Evey laughed again, spinning crazily and then hanging over the edge of the roof, her curls sweeping around her in waves.

Finally Evey turned around, looking for V's familiar black-clad figure, finding him leaning against the roof, gloved hands gripping hard on the stone. She rested beside him, unable to keep a grin from her face. Remembering an old quote she had once read, she turned to him.

'All of us are in the gutter, but some of us are looking up at the stars.'

V's eternal smile seemed to become more real as he responded.

'Opportunities are like sunrises. If you wait too long, you miss them.'

He pointed in the direction they were facing and Evey turned to see the rosy glow of dawn spread over the horizon. The stars faded above their heads as the sun edged its way up out of the dark banks of cloud and extended rays like friendly arms to embrace them.

Momentarily blinded by the light, Evey placed her hand over V's on the stone edge and squeezed tight, lost in the beauty of the morning and her desperate need to share her joy with him.

He was not as alone as he thought. And she would show him that, even if it took a thousand sunrises.


Evey's gutter quote is from Oscar Wilde and V's quote is from poet William A. Wards.

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