mayawazu ni kono ai wo shinji ikite yuku
( i believe in this love without question and live )
beautifulPRETENDER
d e m y x
People described love in so many different ways that it made his head spin. There were those that described it as violins playing a beautiful melody, those who said it was like fireworks bursting in a clear, star-filled night sky, and those who even dared to go so far as to call it perfection. Those were the people he hated the most, he decided. Love wasn't perfect—love had mistakes. Love had false starts and redoes and "wait, that didn't come out right…"s.
And love wasn't the melody of a group of squeaky violins or the explosions of light and fire in the sky. It wasn't flowers and candy or serenades outside of open windows. Love was a sitar, and the fingers that strummed the notes that gave water life. Sure, those fingers made mistakes—sharp, eardrum shattering accidentals that cut through the air like a hot blade, but that was okay. He loved it nonetheless, and waited patiently for the fingers to pick up exactly where they'd left off. They always did, without fail, and he knew that for a fact.
Love… was what Demyx made with his sitar. It was beautiful and sad and elegant and mistake-ridden and it was definitely love. He just didn't know it yet.
And that was perfectly alright.
15 may 3.30 pm
n o t e : ooh my. i'm… not quite sure why i wrote this. i think it was supposed to be a demyx-shipping (no, it is a demyx-shipping) but i don't remember who i was shipping him with. ugh, me and my memory…