Note: Hey, Angeliz here. It's about one in the morning and I just rattled this off; as such, expect some spaciness. Ah, that's not really the right word for it. I guess what I'm saying is that some of it just doesn't really connect; there's a sort of random quality to it. But then again, since it's supposed to be Hisoka's thoughts, that doesn't bother me too much. Thoughts always tend to skip around, right? Anyway, I've never actually done a Yami no Matsuei fic before, but the urge struck, so I went with it. My only regret is that my first venture outside my usual submission category had to be a sleep-deprived one, not to mention one created during an especially stubborn bout of writer's block. It's not my best work. Oh well, what can you do, ne? Anyway, read and review, please. I now bid you goodnight.

I don't know why you don't see it.

You're beautiful, and your personality is so warm and inviting, so friendly, that people can't help but love you. They want you, but you're completely oblivious. All you see is friendship. You don't feel their desire.

Not like I do.

Every time they look at you, it comes off of them in waves, and I feel it inside me, aching. My own desires are enough to contend with; I do not need theirs as well. Every time, it is all I can do to keep from jumping you, from pressing your lips to mine.

I never would, though. I don't think I'm capable.

And yet, oblivious as you are to them, somehow you're not oblivious to me. I can't understand it. Why do you say such things? Why do you look at me like that? Why, when you touch me, do your hands linger over my skin? I have a bad attitude and my words are harsh—I am little more than damaged goods. My childhood saw to that; Muraki only finished the job.

I know it hurts you sometimes. The way I am.

I'm trying, Tsuzuki, I really am. But you've done this before, you've experienced it, while it's all new to me. I've barely figured out how to react to you—your touches, your advances—and the idea of me kissing you instead of the other way around? Terrifying. Completely and utterly. I've never been touched like you touch me. I don't know what I'm doing. It's all so unfamiliar.

And yet you say you love me.

What do you love? And why? I would never love me; I'm too much trouble, too much effort. There is a wall between me and the world, cold and unwavering; I thought it unbreakable. But still, you say it, and I know it's true. I can feel it in you. And I can feel your disappointment when I don't reply in kind.

It isn't that I don't love you, Tsuzuki…it's that I don't know if I do. It's that I don't know if I can. Is love something that I'm capable of feeling? After everything I've done and everything that's been done to me, is it even a possibility?

I wasn't expecting you to say it.

You caught me unawares, without a prepared response, and I froze. For all I can interpret other people's emotions, my own are a mystery. And I don't want to say those words unless I know without a doubt that I mean them. I don't want to hurt you. I have to be sure.

Will you wait for me, Tsuzuki? You've endured so much already, stood by me despite my callousness. All I ask is that you wait. I don't deserve it, but I ask it anyway.

Against all instinct, I want to be with you.

I want to say those words.

Wait for me…