Small water-drops fell quickly to the ground, making soft sounds when hitting the cold, grey asphalt. Down on the road cars tootled for minutes, getting nowhere because of some kind of roadblock.

From an open window not far away a pair of chocolate-brown eyes gazed down in pure annoyance at the never-ending noise. Long white bangs were shoved away from the boys face, clearing his vision slightly. He twitched his nose at the stench coming from the pollutions of the cars. Quickly he closed the window and turned around to relax against the wall, scrutinising the room intensely.

The room went in a quite light shade of gray for the walls and small pillows, and for the bigger furniture it went in a warm tone of red. That colour had proven to be pretty useful sometimes, as it didn't show stains of blood from when things didn't go the way he liked. He smirked. It was fairly dark in the room, and the only sources of light were the window and the TV. The pictures showing on the screen indicated nothing of interest to him, given it was merely commercials or old news. A loud buzz came from the TV's speakers as a button on one of the remotes was pushed. The TV went silently off in the room, making it seem as if it got smaller every minute by the vanishing light. The remote fell to the floor with a muffled thud and the panting increased from over at the couch.

"Ba- kur- a… Bakura…" the young boy whispered absently. The white-haired boy couldn't help but be drawn to the angels side as he heard him call his name.

It was that weird feeling in his chest that recently had come to be in his way. Usually Bakura would have just snorted at the boy to take it as a man, but he had become so meekly lately. As if the angel himself was influencing him, and changing his very persona to resemble his own. He stared down at the pale face of the other, seeing an empty gaze to the ceiling from the otherwise so warm and cheerful brown eyes.

Bakura's face hardened as he saw the angels head turn towards him. The tired eyes looked up into the cold ones quizzically, just to watch away feeling seriously stupid and slightly uneasy. Bakura noticed and kneeled down beside his light, brushing away the white hair from the young boy's face. Quite startled by the unexpected move the light one wrenched slightly and turned to face the darker half, who was the one to look away this time. In a low voice Bakura spoke.

"Ryou, how are you feeling?"

Silence. Pure silence.

The prince lay still, silently observing one of the soft pillows. He put on a smile, even if it looked quite troubled, and stuttered nervously. "I… I'm fine. Just fine." Bakura looked up into the chocolate eyes.

Lies.

He was just being polite, as always. That idiot, Bakura thought, didn't he think I would notice?

"Don't lie" he hissed. "You would be cooking by now and not sweating bullets if you were alright." Ryou uneasily looked away, knowing Bakura would give him some sort of punishment later on for this. He always did. He would give Ryou both physical and mental scars, although he probably didn't know about the mental part. Bakura sighed, getting Ryou to snap back to reality. Bakura carefully watched Ryou, as if looking at him in the wrong way would break him.

Delicate, innocent, caring and loving.

Light, pure.

Perfect.

That was his light, his other half. The part so different from himself.

Rough, diabolical, selfish and hating.

Dark, psychotic.

Nothing.

Bakura bit his lip and glared at his hikari. How could someone so wonderful stay with someone so vicious? Unwise of the answer Bakura hit the floor with his fist, making the TV shake from the vibrations. He bit his lip so hard blood trickled forth. A worried gaze came from the boy in the sofa.

"Bakura, are you alright?" A small line of red coloured the cheek of the former tomb robber, who didn't seem to notice. He was in deep thoughts. Ryou strained himself to sit up on his elbows, and looked into the thinking eyes of the darker one. "Bakura?" he asked slightly expectant. The spirit focused really hard on something and didn't seem to hear Ryou. He didn't even felt when Ryou pulled away a bang of hair from his face.

Ryou looked at his yami, both worried and amazed. Had Bakura ever thought something over before? A small smile formed on his sugar-sweet lips, but it was abruptly changed when he felt like he couldn't breathe. He coughed loudly, his throat feeling like sandpaper. A tear formed in his eye and he fell back into the couch. He coughed so badly it seemed like he was going to lose his intestines. Bakura had finally snapped out of his thoughts and he rushed out of the room to bring towels and other needful things.

The electricity had gone out, given none of the lamps worked, and the streetlights outside the windows were dark. The only thing lighting the room now was the lightning's sudden appearance now and then. But that didn't stop Bakura from finding what he needed. His unfailing night vision from his past life in Egypt had stayed with him, helping him out plenty of times like before. Although it took him some time to see clearly after the first lightnings had blinded him. When the loud rumble came crawling towards them he heard moans from the dark livingroom. Ryou had stopped coughing, but the fever was as high as ever.

Bakura sneaked back into the room, and looked down at the angel. He had suddenly fallen asleep, clearly exhausted by the persistent illness. For the moment he looked at peace, even though the sheets and his hair clinged tightly to his pale skin because of the sweat. As Bakura observed the astonishing beauty of his sleeping hikari he had to fight the urge to do something he never had felt like doing before – kiss Ryou.

Bakura pressed his lips tight together, and noticed the taste of blood.

That's right.

He had always abused Ryou, not wanted to kiss him. Why was he feeling like this all of a sudden? He had always been on his own, helped himself through everything. Ryou had merely been in his way, bestowing him nothing but trouble. He snorted to himself to get a grip, and glared down at the prince again with a dash of apathy. He wasn't going to let him have his way, not on his expense.

~*~*~*~

A/N: My attempt at a dark fic. I don't ever think I've really tried writing something depressing (or something like that)... -.-' I'm quite happy with it, but please give me tips how to improve!^^