This is a collection of my one shot fics, and there will be three
collections. This one contains only romance/angst fics. The second will be
sweet and cute ones, and the third is humorous ones. All the one shot fics
are a little inter related, but can be treated as a single story on their
own. Hope you like it.
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Waiting
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(Kurama's POV)
I stared at the blank piece of paper in front of me, which was supposed to be a finished copy of my homework. It was a trifle, and I could have done it in 15 minutes, but somehow, I suddenly found it meaningless.
The light hues of my room were soon covered with a layer of warm orange, as the rays of the setting sun rushed in through my open window, laying its hands on anything in sight. It circled its welcoming arms around me, but I merely felt its warmth in my senses, not in my heart. The vague casting of light caused the shadows to blush and dance across the room.
Outside, the clouds nearest to the burning globe was dyed heavenly gold, and the colour decreased in intensity on those that were too timid to venture near the fire.
The sun was going home, as it hid itself bit by bit under the horizon. I could see the time slipping through my grasp as the gold faded from the sky, replaced by vermilion, which slowly changed to crimson. Then what was I doing? The most precious thing was fleeing away from me, and I was just watching motionlessly as it goes. The emptiness was welling up in me.
Why did it feel so empty? Was it because I had nothing to do? No, I could get anything I wanted. I paced to the open window and felt the wind against my face, yet I could not really feel it. It rustled the leaved on the tree branches, yet the branches in my heart had no leaves; it could only sift through he dry twigs, unable to disturb anything. Empty structures of memories; waiting for something; waiting for new actions to fill it; waiting for someone to rebuild it.
I hate waiting, as nothing could be as uncertain as it. It never let your heart rest, playing with your desires, creating illusions to get your hopes up. It was like a thin thread tied around your wrist – you cling to it for comfort, for hopes that today might be the day when all the waiting would end; when you finally thought through the impossible wishes and tell yourself that you were not going to wait anymore, the thread could not be untied, not cut, leaving you in a bitterly hopeful dream, never to wake up.
And yet, I love waiting. At least it shows that there was still a slim chance that someday, my heart would be whole. If you still drench in false happiness, not even realizing that something was amiss, then you would have nothing to wait for.
I jumped as a sudden disturbance rocked the branches of the tree just outside my window, and a great surge of hope and excitement sent my heart pounding furiously. I scanned the dark silhouette of the plant, eager to find a black piece of fabric camouflaged in it, a pair of ruby orbs shining, or the slightest trace of familiar youki. But nothing was there; it was a bird.
The fierce adrenaline that pulsed through my veins plummeted, crashed, and a huge aftermath of disappointment washed over me. That steep change in emotion was not the first time. In fact, it had been too numerous to count, and too long ago to trace. All I remembered was that ever since I met him, the waiting began.
The days, the weeks, the months, the years, that passed were all worthwhile, once I get to just have a glimpse of him. Time only existed when he was beside me. Those bitter hours of waiting seemed long and endless, but hey became just like a passing second once I saw him again, as the previous encounter lived as vivid as possible in my memories. Hiei . . .
Even if you could never return the feelings, even if you keep me in this circle of never ending waiting, I would still wait on. Id did not have fantasies of you ever giving me anything in return, and I am completely satisfied as I watch you retreat back into the darkness, not even turning back to glance at me one more time, not ever having my reflections in your irises. Even if you never come to me again, I was blessed enough with the memories you allowed me to build with you. And yet, I would still wait on. Even if you die, I would then wait for your next life. Maybe this was a type of happiness too.
However, I was also afraid of you coming to me. I did not know how much my desire would well up; I did not know what I would do to you. I was scared that the more you stay be me, the more unsatisfied I would become, and that I would lose control if my desires. Thus I only dare to wait for you, and not go to you.
The sky was not a shade of violet-pink, the clouds just like ht eons in a beautiful dream, pink and fluffy. Maybe this is a dram, and although I had many things to regret for, I was still glad I had this dream, because I met you.
I watched as the last curve of the setting sun disappeared over the horizon, taking with it the entire warm glow on the land. The sky was slowly overtaken by cobalt blue, and the moon was beginning its reign. I like the moon more than the sun, because hidden under its cool surface was the meaning for it to shine. And it makes me think of you.
Leaning my body as far out of the window as possible, I took a deep breath. Somewhere out there, you were breathing in the same air, looking over the same land, and maybe you could feel me calling you in my heart.
Staring at the tree where you always rested on, and which you would leave to come to my room when it was raining, I observed as the soft moonlight marred its distinctive outlines. I like the rain too. It forced you to come to me, but how I wish you would do the same even without the rain. I shook my head and chuckled bitterly at my unrealistic dreams. I know it would never come true.
I left the window open, unconcerned about the cold current that invaded my room. No matter what, I would still open my window for you, and also my heart. I might catch a cold; I might be vulnerable this way, but as long as it was for you. My life, my heart, my body, my soul, everything was there for you to take.
I shivered at the cold. I started replaying every detail of you in my mind, the way you talk, walk, run, fight, and some rare smiles that made me blush, and somehow, the could was lost to me. I felt even warmer than when the sun was out.
Maybe tomorrow you would come, maybe not. But I would still be here.
Waiting.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Waiting
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
(Kurama's POV)
I stared at the blank piece of paper in front of me, which was supposed to be a finished copy of my homework. It was a trifle, and I could have done it in 15 minutes, but somehow, I suddenly found it meaningless.
The light hues of my room were soon covered with a layer of warm orange, as the rays of the setting sun rushed in through my open window, laying its hands on anything in sight. It circled its welcoming arms around me, but I merely felt its warmth in my senses, not in my heart. The vague casting of light caused the shadows to blush and dance across the room.
Outside, the clouds nearest to the burning globe was dyed heavenly gold, and the colour decreased in intensity on those that were too timid to venture near the fire.
The sun was going home, as it hid itself bit by bit under the horizon. I could see the time slipping through my grasp as the gold faded from the sky, replaced by vermilion, which slowly changed to crimson. Then what was I doing? The most precious thing was fleeing away from me, and I was just watching motionlessly as it goes. The emptiness was welling up in me.
Why did it feel so empty? Was it because I had nothing to do? No, I could get anything I wanted. I paced to the open window and felt the wind against my face, yet I could not really feel it. It rustled the leaved on the tree branches, yet the branches in my heart had no leaves; it could only sift through he dry twigs, unable to disturb anything. Empty structures of memories; waiting for something; waiting for new actions to fill it; waiting for someone to rebuild it.
I hate waiting, as nothing could be as uncertain as it. It never let your heart rest, playing with your desires, creating illusions to get your hopes up. It was like a thin thread tied around your wrist – you cling to it for comfort, for hopes that today might be the day when all the waiting would end; when you finally thought through the impossible wishes and tell yourself that you were not going to wait anymore, the thread could not be untied, not cut, leaving you in a bitterly hopeful dream, never to wake up.
And yet, I love waiting. At least it shows that there was still a slim chance that someday, my heart would be whole. If you still drench in false happiness, not even realizing that something was amiss, then you would have nothing to wait for.
I jumped as a sudden disturbance rocked the branches of the tree just outside my window, and a great surge of hope and excitement sent my heart pounding furiously. I scanned the dark silhouette of the plant, eager to find a black piece of fabric camouflaged in it, a pair of ruby orbs shining, or the slightest trace of familiar youki. But nothing was there; it was a bird.
The fierce adrenaline that pulsed through my veins plummeted, crashed, and a huge aftermath of disappointment washed over me. That steep change in emotion was not the first time. In fact, it had been too numerous to count, and too long ago to trace. All I remembered was that ever since I met him, the waiting began.
The days, the weeks, the months, the years, that passed were all worthwhile, once I get to just have a glimpse of him. Time only existed when he was beside me. Those bitter hours of waiting seemed long and endless, but hey became just like a passing second once I saw him again, as the previous encounter lived as vivid as possible in my memories. Hiei . . .
Even if you could never return the feelings, even if you keep me in this circle of never ending waiting, I would still wait on. Id did not have fantasies of you ever giving me anything in return, and I am completely satisfied as I watch you retreat back into the darkness, not even turning back to glance at me one more time, not ever having my reflections in your irises. Even if you never come to me again, I was blessed enough with the memories you allowed me to build with you. And yet, I would still wait on. Even if you die, I would then wait for your next life. Maybe this was a type of happiness too.
However, I was also afraid of you coming to me. I did not know how much my desire would well up; I did not know what I would do to you. I was scared that the more you stay be me, the more unsatisfied I would become, and that I would lose control if my desires. Thus I only dare to wait for you, and not go to you.
The sky was not a shade of violet-pink, the clouds just like ht eons in a beautiful dream, pink and fluffy. Maybe this is a dram, and although I had many things to regret for, I was still glad I had this dream, because I met you.
I watched as the last curve of the setting sun disappeared over the horizon, taking with it the entire warm glow on the land. The sky was slowly overtaken by cobalt blue, and the moon was beginning its reign. I like the moon more than the sun, because hidden under its cool surface was the meaning for it to shine. And it makes me think of you.
Leaning my body as far out of the window as possible, I took a deep breath. Somewhere out there, you were breathing in the same air, looking over the same land, and maybe you could feel me calling you in my heart.
Staring at the tree where you always rested on, and which you would leave to come to my room when it was raining, I observed as the soft moonlight marred its distinctive outlines. I like the rain too. It forced you to come to me, but how I wish you would do the same even without the rain. I shook my head and chuckled bitterly at my unrealistic dreams. I know it would never come true.
I left the window open, unconcerned about the cold current that invaded my room. No matter what, I would still open my window for you, and also my heart. I might catch a cold; I might be vulnerable this way, but as long as it was for you. My life, my heart, my body, my soul, everything was there for you to take.
I shivered at the cold. I started replaying every detail of you in my mind, the way you talk, walk, run, fight, and some rare smiles that made me blush, and somehow, the could was lost to me. I felt even warmer than when the sun was out.
Maybe tomorrow you would come, maybe not. But I would still be here.
Waiting.