Those three words
are said too much
They're not enough.

We're nestled together on my bed, Soubi curled around me, keeping me warm. We've been here for a while. It's a lazy afternoon, the window is wide open and the sunlight's streaming through. Neither he nor I have said anything for ten minutes or so, and as I let myself relax I can't help but think it's too good to last.

Soubi shifts a little, changing position, and stretches out an arm that was previously wrapped around my shoulders. He makes a contented sound in his throat and I snuggle into him a little more, happy to just lie there. I wasn't so keen on it at first but he coerced me, begged me with such a beseeching look that I couldn't say no, and now that I'm here I quite like it. I feel safe with him so close to me. I feel like nothing could hurt me.

And then Soubi murmurs, "I love you."

And everything changes.

I think he feels me stiffen, for he asks softly, "What's wrong?" I pull away and stand up; without looking at him I walk to the other side of the room and sit in the computer chair. He must know the answer by now, so why does he even ask the question?

But he will not be unanswered, and he asks again, "What's wrong, Ritsuka?"

I refuse to look at him. "Too much. You say it too much! I'm sick of it. Why did you have to say it? It spoils everything." I can't speak the words myself. I can't tell him that every time I hear those three words I think of Seimei.

Seimei, who ordered him to love me.

Sometimes when Soubi says those words they sound true, and I want to believe that he means them, more than anything, but I can't. I can't. Not this time, and not any other time.

I hear him rise, behind me, and pace across the floor until he's standing right next to me.

"I want you to leave," I tell the wall.

Soubi doesn't reply straight away. I don't need to turn around to know the expression that's on his face. The sad, mournful eyes that tear me apart.

I feel him brush a kiss against the top of my head.

"I love you Ritsuka," he says.

I don't move until after he's gone; and then I rush to the window, looking out as I always do for a sign of him, even his back, walking away. The street is empty. I close the window with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, Soubi," I whisper, leaning my head on the glass for support. "I just hate it when you say things and don't mean them. And you say that too much."

-end-