This is, probably officially, a Taiora. *waits for shrieks of shock to subside.* But mainly, it's Taito and Mira, even though it takes place with Tai and Sora in bed together, and Sora pregnant with Tai's kid. It's regrets and thoughts.
*****
Lying in bed with my husband of three years, with the man who's child I will bear in six months, I feel so empty. This marriage was a sham from the beginning. He dated me so people wouldn't suspect what he really thought. He kissed me so that he could try to forget who he wanted. He fucked me to prove to himself that he was a man. And he married me to prove that to the world. And now I lie beside Yagami Taichi, his back turned to me, his eyes closed, knowing that he is dreaming of another and not really able to blame him. Tai has his lost angel, the musician who stole his heart so long ago. I have my rose girl, my beauty who I lost because I never really tried.
And I know that every time he embraces me he wishes I had soul-deep blue eyes and spiky blonde hair, and was all pale angles and quick fingers. And I for my part, wish he had a sweet, round face and a gentle laugh, that he dyed his hair pink and smiled so easily. He wishes I was Matt. I wish he was Mimi. Stupid.
And he'll never admit it. He carries a little picture of Matt around with him. At night, he whispers his name. I know he keeps half an eye constantly searching for him. And I know that he'll never tell anyone, even himself, that he loves Ishida Yamato. That's a fag thing. And Tai doesn't like fags much. But I had the crest of Love. I can see it. I know.
Like I know that my heart belongs to a woman who probably scarcely remembers me. And that the man lying next to me might as well be my brother.
But we keep this up. We have to. We got into it, and we both have nowhere wlse to go. Our angels are missing, Matt run away at 18 to America, Mimi thrown into her work, her parties, her everything. Both of them beyond our reach.
And I lay a hand over my belly, already ever-so-slightly swollen, and I cry for the sins we commit.
*****
Lying in bed with my husband of three years, with the man who's child I will bear in six months, I feel so empty. This marriage was a sham from the beginning. He dated me so people wouldn't suspect what he really thought. He kissed me so that he could try to forget who he wanted. He fucked me to prove to himself that he was a man. And he married me to prove that to the world. And now I lie beside Yagami Taichi, his back turned to me, his eyes closed, knowing that he is dreaming of another and not really able to blame him. Tai has his lost angel, the musician who stole his heart so long ago. I have my rose girl, my beauty who I lost because I never really tried.
And I know that every time he embraces me he wishes I had soul-deep blue eyes and spiky blonde hair, and was all pale angles and quick fingers. And I for my part, wish he had a sweet, round face and a gentle laugh, that he dyed his hair pink and smiled so easily. He wishes I was Matt. I wish he was Mimi. Stupid.
And he'll never admit it. He carries a little picture of Matt around with him. At night, he whispers his name. I know he keeps half an eye constantly searching for him. And I know that he'll never tell anyone, even himself, that he loves Ishida Yamato. That's a fag thing. And Tai doesn't like fags much. But I had the crest of Love. I can see it. I know.
Like I know that my heart belongs to a woman who probably scarcely remembers me. And that the man lying next to me might as well be my brother.
But we keep this up. We have to. We got into it, and we both have nowhere wlse to go. Our angels are missing, Matt run away at 18 to America, Mimi thrown into her work, her parties, her everything. Both of them beyond our reach.
And I lay a hand over my belly, already ever-so-slightly swollen, and I cry for the sins we commit.