[Mozart l'Opéra Rock] Pugnalata
Aug. 30th, 2025 12:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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teamflareTitle: Pugnalata
Fandom: Mozart l'Opéra Rock
Pairing: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart/Antonio Salieri
Rating: T
Summary: "Too many notes," you'd said, as if one note hadn't been enough to pierce through you as sure and true as a knife would have.
Notes: Written for theseasonsofdrabbles 2025 summer round.
AO3 Link: Here.
"Too many notes," you'd said, as if one note hadn't been enough to pierce through you as sure and true as a knife would have. You knew knives better than anyone, and you knew notes, too.
Well, perhaps not anymore. Mozart's music had made you well-aware that there were still symphonies that were beyond your reach – not that you would have admitted it, to him or anybody else.
You thought he wanted you to admit it. When he glanced at you over the music stand, his eyebrows raised, as if to say, "Giving up yet, maestro?" When he pursed his lips over the rim of his glass whenever you passed him at those fancy dinners you despised so very much.
Yet, he didn't make his intentions clear with words. He greeted you with a smile as soon as he noticed you, praised you when the subject of your own achievements came up. It wasn't as if you could berate him for it; you weren't much braver. In fact, by refusing to put a stop to his games once you'd noticed them, you were as much of a coward, if not more so.
You dreamed of him, in the dead of night, tossing and turning as you lay over your fine linen sheets; not of his music, but of him, draped over you, his handsome face shrouded in darkness. In his hands, he held your own knife, the tip of its blade pressing below your navel, tickling the sensitive skin there.
That you always woke up before he could plunge it in was a meager relief. You craved the knife, you did, shamefully – but not from him. Never from him.
It was an easy lie, so long as you kept it to yourself.
Fortunately, you kept everything to yourself, these days.
Fandom: Mozart l'Opéra Rock
Pairing: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart/Antonio Salieri
Rating: T
Summary: "Too many notes," you'd said, as if one note hadn't been enough to pierce through you as sure and true as a knife would have.
Notes: Written for the
seasonsofdrabbles 2025 summer round.AO3 Link: Here.
"Too many notes," you'd said, as if one note hadn't been enough to pierce through you as sure and true as a knife would have. You knew knives better than anyone, and you knew notes, too.
Well, perhaps not anymore. Mozart's music had made you well-aware that there were still symphonies that were beyond your reach – not that you would have admitted it, to him or anybody else.
You thought he wanted you to admit it. When he glanced at you over the music stand, his eyebrows raised, as if to say, "Giving up yet, maestro?" When he pursed his lips over the rim of his glass whenever you passed him at those fancy dinners you despised so very much.
Yet, he didn't make his intentions clear with words. He greeted you with a smile as soon as he noticed you, praised you when the subject of your own achievements came up. It wasn't as if you could berate him for it; you weren't much braver. In fact, by refusing to put a stop to his games once you'd noticed them, you were as much of a coward, if not more so.
You dreamed of him, in the dead of night, tossing and turning as you lay over your fine linen sheets; not of his music, but of him, draped over you, his handsome face shrouded in darkness. In his hands, he held your own knife, the tip of its blade pressing below your navel, tickling the sensitive skin there.
That you always woke up before he could plunge it in was a meager relief. You craved the knife, you did, shamefully – but not from him. Never from him.
It was an easy lie, so long as you kept it to yourself.
Fortunately, you kept everything to yourself, these days.