Everybody thinks I'm a narcissist. That I'm just another one of those arrogant jerks who think they are the prince of the world. That I am just a pyromaniac who hates the entire world for no reason. That I'm a sadist. Maybe they are right. But it's not like I don't enjoy doing anything. There are things that I really love to do.
Agreed, I do love many things that aren't supposed to be loved. Like, for instance, burning the hair, or rather, any part of the anatomy of just anyone. Or like being rude to everyone around me for no reason. Or like peaking on a certain someone's underwear every morning.
But I do enjoy doing certain things, certain normal things. I like sleeping outdoors, on the fresh green grass. I like the feel of the grass on my bare feet. I like my coffee black and my eggs sunny side up. I like wooden staircases. I like hot, soothing showers. I like watching people. I like Sherlock Holmes. I like misty mornings. I like reading manga. I like cool beer on a hot afternoon. I love dark chocolates. I love spending Sunday afternoons in bed, doing nothing. I love staying up late, waking up late. I love the sound of fire cackling in a fireplace. I love the smell of polished wood. I love listening to the Moonlight Sonata at two in the night. I love the sound of a violin, the feel of the raindrops on my skin. The smell of the earth before the rains, the crescent moon. Bach's music, Keats's poetry. Renaissance paintings. Cherry Blossoms. Her.
The way she looks, the way she laughs. The way she pouts when she doesn't get what she wants, the way she gets hyper about the silliest of things. The way her eyes widen whenever someone gives her a surprise or whenever she solves a problem on her own. The way golden flecks appear in her eyes whenever she's joyous, the way they turn into deep pools of caramel whenever she's angry. The way she never manages to solve any Math problem on her own. The way she treated everybody as if they were the most important person on earth. The way her hair always gets tangled and dishevelled whenever she steps out in the wind. The way small things like a smile, a hug or even a word manages to make her happy. The way she puts her faith in anybody and everybody, the fact that she's incapable of saying no to people. The way she cries in romantic movies, the way she grins goofily if one ends happily. The way she manages to make everybody feel happy, just with a smile. The way she becomes friends with everybody. The way she chastises me if I go on a mission without informing her. Her smile, her loyalty, her friendship. The sound of her voice, her laughter. Her anger, her passion, her enthusiasm. Her.
Maybe I would been a different person without her. No, not maybe. I would have been a different person without her, but maybe not a better person. And, of course I know that she would have been better off without me. I have no right, absolutely none to have become so close to her, to have let her become so close to me; especially when my life is engulfed in such darkness that I hope she'd never have to encounter. But, the heart has its own way, and mine led me towards her. But if there is something I've learnt from her, along with plenty others, is not to ever think of 'if I had...' She taught me how to laugh, how to live, how to love. She gave me a reason to live, and to fight. My life may not be too happy, or even complete. But I have her in my life, and I have all that I need to survive. She shone like a beam of sunshine, as a beacon of hope in my forlorn and tormenting life. I know that I can't promise her an entire life by her side, but I can promise her today. And I can also promise her that even if I have to go, all she has to do is call, and I'll be there,and I'll never let her fall. And I can promise her that I'll always love her, forever and a day.
A/U- Well,hopefully everyone knows who says this.
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