"Fight"
By: Evangeline Henri
Rating: PG
Summary: Ken after he argues with Davis. Yaoi; Kensuke
Archives: Anywhere, just let me know
Dedication: Atalanta, you know why I wrote this. So you know it could never
be dedicated to anyone but you.
*****
Davis and I are in a fight. I know how it started, but I can't even grasp why. It
was something stupid- something having to do with his old friends, friends who have
known him longer and have ties that go so much deeper than mine. He invited them over
to a party he was hosting, and didn't invite me. He says he thought I was busy anyway
with homework or something. Super-Ken and his super-impossible homework. I wasn't,
so the entire night, I sat alone in my room, licking my emotional wounds and thinking
about all the fun things they were probably doing without me.
Davis and I are in a fight. I probably overreacted, finding malicious motives in
the most innocent of misunderstandings. He most likely didn't mean to make me feel
like that lonely little boy who had just stepped out of the Kaiser's shadow, and had no
one to hold. Or to make tears spring into my eyes with every
word that fell from his lips. Or to make me get on the bus after school and finally let
those same tears out in wave after rolling, terrible wave of misery. No, that wouldn't be
like him at all. So it must have been my fault.
But if it was, why should I feel so bad? Why should I be here, staring at the
phone, hoping it will ring but knowing it won't? Why should my dreams, my very
thoughts be tortured? If I started this, why should it be hurting like it is?
Davis and I are in a fight. If I force myself to look at it closely instead of
discreetly turning my head away, this whole thing is built on my insecurities. I've been
so scared that one day, he'll wake up and realize that he has no reason to be friends with
me. I'm petrified that he'll eventually stop being there. He broke ranks when he decided
to befriend me and every day, I fear he'll go back to them. He tries to convince me he
won't, that he will never abandon me.
I'd like to believe him; I really would. It would be so very nice to have someone
who won't leave. Someone who I can cling to when it gets cloudy and scary, and who no
one can take away from me. Ever. And sometimes, when he holds me, I start to believe
him. He sets a part of me that has always been chaotic and dark at ease, and it starts to
feel like he'll always be there. But at the slightest provocation, I panic, and curse
myself for ever becoming vulnerable to these feelings. That dark place looms up once
more, and begins to mock me for my insecurities and weaknesses. And its voice is one I
know all too well: that of the Kaiser.
Davis and I are in a fight. We've never really been in one before. When he was
mad, I'd usually sit there, meekly taking his tirades- a marked role reversal from when I
was the Kaiser. I wouldn't say anything; I was afraid any resistance would cause him to
leave. I couldn't bear to see that happen. Soon, he'd cool down, and apologize. We'd
make up, and everything would be right in the world once more. Those momentary flares
of rage were nothing like this. Nothing this prolonged, nothing this heated, nothing
this painful...
Davis and I are in a fight. He thinks I'm being childish. Childish. That's all I
really am. Dress me in the garb of a Kaiser or a prodigy. I'm still only a child, a child
who's afraid he's lost the person who means the most to him.
Davis and I are in a fight. At first, I was sure he was wrong. I was steadfast in
my position, unwilling to budge. But, as time ticks by, harsh and alone, my resolve is
crumbling. I'm forgetting what I was so adamant about. Everything is shifting. The
black-and-white that this was once drawn in is now blurring, melting into a landscape of
gray. And I'm increasingly tempted to give in just to get him back.
Because I've come to the conclusion that he is my color. He's Davis, my red, my
blue, my yellow, and my everything in between. If there's anything this hell has taught
me, it's that. Whether or not he's right or wrong, whether I've painted his side in black
or white- I just need my color. I need him.
Davis and I are in a fight. What's going to happen tomorrow? We'll undoubtedly
see one another, be thrown into situations where we're forced to come together. What
then? Will we be able to put this behind us, or treat each other like strangers? Will
I really keep going if that's all he can mean to me? I try to convince myself that I'll
deal, but that voice inside of me says differently. It's proving too strong to be ignored.
Davis and I are in a fight. And I'm dying.
-The End-
*****
Comments? Feedback? A hog-tied Ken? Exploding Magical Kiwis from the Great
Unknown? Send them my way!
By: Evangeline Henri
Rating: PG
Summary: Ken after he argues with Davis. Yaoi; Kensuke
Archives: Anywhere, just let me know
Dedication: Atalanta, you know why I wrote this. So you know it could never
be dedicated to anyone but you.
*****
Davis and I are in a fight. I know how it started, but I can't even grasp why. It
was something stupid- something having to do with his old friends, friends who have
known him longer and have ties that go so much deeper than mine. He invited them over
to a party he was hosting, and didn't invite me. He says he thought I was busy anyway
with homework or something. Super-Ken and his super-impossible homework. I wasn't,
so the entire night, I sat alone in my room, licking my emotional wounds and thinking
about all the fun things they were probably doing without me.
Davis and I are in a fight. I probably overreacted, finding malicious motives in
the most innocent of misunderstandings. He most likely didn't mean to make me feel
like that lonely little boy who had just stepped out of the Kaiser's shadow, and had no
one to hold. Or to make tears spring into my eyes with every
word that fell from his lips. Or to make me get on the bus after school and finally let
those same tears out in wave after rolling, terrible wave of misery. No, that wouldn't be
like him at all. So it must have been my fault.
But if it was, why should I feel so bad? Why should I be here, staring at the
phone, hoping it will ring but knowing it won't? Why should my dreams, my very
thoughts be tortured? If I started this, why should it be hurting like it is?
Davis and I are in a fight. If I force myself to look at it closely instead of
discreetly turning my head away, this whole thing is built on my insecurities. I've been
so scared that one day, he'll wake up and realize that he has no reason to be friends with
me. I'm petrified that he'll eventually stop being there. He broke ranks when he decided
to befriend me and every day, I fear he'll go back to them. He tries to convince me he
won't, that he will never abandon me.
I'd like to believe him; I really would. It would be so very nice to have someone
who won't leave. Someone who I can cling to when it gets cloudy and scary, and who no
one can take away from me. Ever. And sometimes, when he holds me, I start to believe
him. He sets a part of me that has always been chaotic and dark at ease, and it starts to
feel like he'll always be there. But at the slightest provocation, I panic, and curse
myself for ever becoming vulnerable to these feelings. That dark place looms up once
more, and begins to mock me for my insecurities and weaknesses. And its voice is one I
know all too well: that of the Kaiser.
Davis and I are in a fight. We've never really been in one before. When he was
mad, I'd usually sit there, meekly taking his tirades- a marked role reversal from when I
was the Kaiser. I wouldn't say anything; I was afraid any resistance would cause him to
leave. I couldn't bear to see that happen. Soon, he'd cool down, and apologize. We'd
make up, and everything would be right in the world once more. Those momentary flares
of rage were nothing like this. Nothing this prolonged, nothing this heated, nothing
this painful...
Davis and I are in a fight. He thinks I'm being childish. Childish. That's all I
really am. Dress me in the garb of a Kaiser or a prodigy. I'm still only a child, a child
who's afraid he's lost the person who means the most to him.
Davis and I are in a fight. At first, I was sure he was wrong. I was steadfast in
my position, unwilling to budge. But, as time ticks by, harsh and alone, my resolve is
crumbling. I'm forgetting what I was so adamant about. Everything is shifting. The
black-and-white that this was once drawn in is now blurring, melting into a landscape of
gray. And I'm increasingly tempted to give in just to get him back.
Because I've come to the conclusion that he is my color. He's Davis, my red, my
blue, my yellow, and my everything in between. If there's anything this hell has taught
me, it's that. Whether or not he's right or wrong, whether I've painted his side in black
or white- I just need my color. I need him.
Davis and I are in a fight. What's going to happen tomorrow? We'll undoubtedly
see one another, be thrown into situations where we're forced to come together. What
then? Will we be able to put this behind us, or treat each other like strangers? Will
I really keep going if that's all he can mean to me? I try to convince myself that I'll
deal, but that voice inside of me says differently. It's proving too strong to be ignored.
Davis and I are in a fight. And I'm dying.
-The End-
*****
Comments? Feedback? A hog-tied Ken? Exploding Magical Kiwis from the Great
Unknown? Send them my way!