I laid next to him. One hand tracing the dark tattoos on his chest as it rose rhythmically to match his shallow breathing. The warm dawn sunlight was leaking in through the windows. Despite the warm glow, the wind that accompanied it was chilly. I pulled the thin sheets around my bare body to conserve heat. Kanda, sensing that I was cold, drew me in closer.

Without looking at him I knew his eyes were open, looking towards the ceilings and deep in thought. If I happened to ask him a question now, he would answer with an adequate response but his mind would be elsewhere. In moments like this, even though we were so close and intimate our bare skin touching and his arms around me, it wouldn't be me on his mind right now.

His hand laid lightly on his stomach, just at the level of my gaze. I took his hand in my free hand absent-mindedly, stroking his long slender fingers. Pianist's fingers, as one might call them. The hands of the swordsman looked as though it has never done a day's worth of work.

A silver band glistened on his ring finger, one that matched mine of my left hand. I remember the moment all too clear like it was yesterday. As affectionate as Kanda can be in our private times, when it came to the real deal his bashfulness shown. Sometimes I would joke to myself (and occasionally tease him) and say that maybe I had saw a hint of pink on his cheeks as he took my hand and delicately, but with force, slipped the ring onto mine. He had then turned his head away with an embarrassed looked on his face that had said it all. I had taken a few seconds to recover from my surprise but as soon as the realisation kicked it, a huge smile broke free, stretching from one end right to the other.

I could remember that moment all too clearly.

But even now, as we laid together, savouring our precious few hours of alone time in Kanda's room before the busy work day was about to commence at the Order, I could tell something was amiss. Or rather, it had always been amiss, but we possibly, had just been denying it.

I trailed my hand back up his body to his tattoo and rested my hand there and stole a look at his face.

The sunlight that begun slowly pouring in lit the edges of his dark hair, creating a soft aura. From the way his chest rose and deflated slowly, it would've been expected for his eyes to be closed. But they were open. His dark eyes, framed by long, lashes were as I had suspected, looking up at the ceiling. They weren't staring blankly but rather, looked to be deep in thought. Thoughts that he never assumed I knew about but oh, how I knew.

How I knew but wished I didn't know that he was thinking of the flowers that floated above lakes and ponds. But instead, the ones in his imaginary floated on mud. Flowers that had mud-splattered soft pink petals protecting the sweet, perfumed centre. And a companion to watch these flowers with. One who had light blonde hair tied in a ponytail, a playful smile tickling her mouth. 'Wouldn't it be nice to see the flowers bloom, together? It's a promise, okay?' She would say, and my lover would respond with a smile.

I could dye my hair blonde, but that still wouldn't make it me.

No matter how I had tried to take his mind off her, when he was alone in his thoughts, his mind would wonder. The gentle kisses in the corridors when we thought that no one was looking. The way he played with my hair and tucked it behind my ears absent-mindedly. How he would fall asleep first next to me in the library when he wanted to accompany my late-night readings. No matter how many times I was led to believe that he loved me the most, his room seemed to always have space for someone else as well.

What was her name? How did she leave? Did she meet him before he came to the Order? When did Kanda even come to the Order in the first place?

There were many mysteries he never told me. If I had ever tried to pry into his history, he would just place a kiss on the top of my head and ruffle up my hair as though he wanted to say 'not now.' I hated that about him but I love him too much.

I reached up a hand to caress his cheek, he caught it and held it there. His heavy-lidded eyes held mine for a moment before he sighed and brought his lips to the back of my hand. I shivered at his touch.

In hindsight, never once has he told me he loved me. In his troubled dreams I would hear him whisper it to the woman he had once loved but never, ever, had it once said to me. I have said it to him numerous times. For instance, when he came back from a mission once with a small gift he saw in a souvenir shop that he thought I would've liked. I had received it, heart secretly bursting with pleasure and whispered my love accompanied by a peck on the cheek. I had hoped, that he would echo it back but he'd only give me a bittersweet smile. Sometimes in moments of passion I would cry it out, maybe with a hint of plead but still it would be replied back with a furious flurry of kisses, silencing me.

This man who claimed that his everything belonged to me yet I did not feel that way. Without realising, he had started falling back into sleep, my hand still in his grasp and his lips next to my hand as though it was in mid-kiss. I gazed at his peaceful sleeping figure. He had been so busy lately, barely having the time to sleep and eat that it was somewhat of a relief to see him at rest.

I gently removed my hand from his grip, taking care not to wake him and soundlessly slipped off the bed. I dressed quietly and left the room, leaving my silver band, twinkling, table next to the bed.

Author's tears: I just watched episode 9 of DGM Hallow and Kanda and Alma's love has broken my heart. No one can ever have Kanda's heart because it belongs to Alma only. *Flings self to floor and sobs heavily*