This was written a year ago, found yesterday, and posted today.

Cerulean eyes flickered apprehensively on the scene before him. He'd seen the warning signs; the whispers of caution, but belief had ceased to habitate itself in the vast complexion of simplicity that was his mind. Well, needless to say, he bow saw what had been displayed so easily before him all along.

Cold hands fell lifelessly to his sides, and eyes once bright with stubborn confidence were now dimmed with the harsh dark of reality. He himself was never intended to touch such a beautiful thing as she, and never would. The love held so clearly in those crystallized pools of gray twilight was never meant to shine upon his own lowly self. Wisps of ebon-spun gold would never grace his callused palms in tender caress. And for now, all he could do was turn away and go back to his lonely hovel to sleep.

Thoughts of 'letting' the hanyou comfort her just one more time didn't but once ift through his muddled thoughts, and once thought the notion would be laughed off somewhat forcefully. After all, it wasn't he whom was letting the hanyou enjoy but a few moments of happiness- a few relief filled seconds where nothing mattered and for once, the tug of reality was strained. In all honesty, the whole idea was topsy-turvy, and should be the other way around. He, himself, was merely in the way, and his eyelids drooped a few centimeters as he halfheartedly poked at the dying embers of a fire before him. Standing and turning, realization would become even crueler in his mind as he laid himself down in a hastily put together pile of furs in a corner.

Fire temporarily provided a warmth, but not the warmth he so desperately sought.