Bakura sat on the foot of the white hospital bed, watching the blonde in front of him sleeping. He felt out of place surrounded by bright white walls. He was used to the shadows and darkness, but though he was exceedingly uncomfortable and nervous, he stayed by the blonde's side.
"You've been asleep for the whole bloody day Marik. Wake the hell up." he growled, twirling the plastic object that resided in his lap.
Marik had been having more and more issues with his Yami for the past month, but Bakura had never let the depressed boy out of his sight long enough for him to do anything stupid. Yesterday though, he'd gone out, leaving Marik alone for a few hours.
He'd returned to find Marik in the bathtub with his wrists slit. Bakura had pulled him out and bound his wrists before calling an ambulance.
Now, over 24 hours later, Marik was still asleep and Bakura was still awake. It was long past visiting hours, but he'd given such a frightening glare to anyone who entered the room. No one dared to ask him to leave.
So there he sat, at the foot of Marik's bed, waiting for the Egyptian teen to 'wake the hell up'.
As if Bakura's glare was something to be felt physically, Marik began to stir.
As Marik opened his eyes, Bakura picked up the plastic object in his lap, revealing it to be a neon orange squirt gun, and pointed it at Marik's half-asleep face.
Before he could say a word, Bakura pulled the trigger 6 times rapid fire and soaked the other teen's face with ice water.
"Don't you ever fucking do that again!" he snapped as water dripped down Marik's shocked face and onto his bare chest.
"I love you too Kura." he said tiredly with a small smile on his lips. Bakura rolled his eyes, but nodded.
Even now, Marik didn't expect those words from the stoic and seemingly emotionless Bakura, but the nod was enough to give him all the comfort he needed.