This fic is based on an album called Enough is Enough by a Finnish band called Traffic Island.
Bakura always looked at Ryou like he was seeing him for the first time, taking in each and every detail on that beautiful face, the way those green eyes seemed to change their hue to go along with whatever emotion the boy was going through. How his lips seemed to always twitch a little before managing to form an actual smile, how his left eyebrow was slightly more defined in shape than his right...
Currently, Bakura was staring at Ryou from a distance, watching him talk and laugh with his friends, but knowing that there was at least a small amount of sadness and hurt appearing in the young man's eyes, knowing that some of that happiness he so eagerly displayed was fake. And it was Bakura's fault.
He had broken the precious heart of his friend.
Something that was unthinkable to begin with. Why in the world would he do that? If there was one person in the world, on whose behalf Bakura was more than ready to die, to do everything, it was Ryou.
So what had caused the current situation? Bakura's own stupidity, that's what.
He had had sex with a random girl. That's right, despite the fact that the only person he felt deserving of his heart was Ryou, he had decided to offer it to someone else. (Well, not his heart exactly, just his body, but Ryou didn't know that, nor did anyone else in their little circle of friends.) And that had caused Ryou to fall into the slump of negative emotions he was currently floating in. He had given up on Bakura, thinking that he wasn't worthy of Bakura's love, that there was someone else the object of his affections cherished more.
Which was complete bullshit, but Ryou couldn't know that could he? Because Bakura had never said a damn thing.
Bakura cursed under his breath, hands clenching into fists. He hated the current situation. He simply loathed the fact that Ryou, his Ryou (which was something that he only thought in his head, never would he say it aloud), was alone (well, excluding his friends of course), and he, Bakura, had fucked somebody he didn't even like, and now everyone thought he was in love with the bitch!
Fuck. he didn't even want to think about the night when he ended up in that woman's bed. Not that he remembered much to begin with.
He loved Ryou. Not some random... whore he met in a bar. But alas, what could he do? He couldn't just go over to Ryou and ask him out, now could he? Ryou would just feel like a second choice, a backup, or something.
Bakura sighed, he had completely blown it.
And even if Ryou would by some twist of fate agree (which was next to impossible, seeing that Ryou would never want to destroy Bakura's so-called relationship), Ryou's friends would surely consider Bakura's suggestion as foul play, and convince Ryou not to believe him.
And even if Ryou agreed despite the opinions of his friends, he would surely be worried about the way they thought about him. Ryou was insecure like that, he had been alone for so long that every time he got a new friend, he would change himself to become more like the new person.
Ryou just wanted to belong.
And Bakura couldn't bring himself to take that way from Ryou by forcing him to act against his friends. Bakura wasn't the nicest person on earth, but even he had his limits. When it came to Ryou, anyway.
Bakura heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning back on the park bench he was sitting on before looking back at Ryou. Ryou with his soft looking, beautiful white hair that had a silver tint to it, his soft pale skin, his bright green eyes in which Bakura could stare for hours at end...
Fuck, everything about Ryou was daydream material. For Bakura anyway, and with a scoff he had to admit that it probably applied to other people as well.
Daydream material... Well that one was a fact Bakura could not deny. He had indulged in the guilty pleasure of imagining himself and Ryou in the most imaginative situations, most of them, unsurprisingly, revolving around sex. He couldn't help himself! Ryou was just so... perfect.
Exactly, perfect. That was one word that Bakura could use when describing his Ryou. It summed the young man up perfectly. In Bakura's opinion, Ryou was the origin of all that is good in the world, as over the top as it sounds.
Bakura watched as Ryou used his delicate hand to push his white bangs away from his eyes and grinned. Scratch the 'daydream material', 'wet dream material' was more like it. Closer to the truth even, as much as he was ashamed to admit it to himself. He was borderline obsessed with Ryou, thinking about the other every moment of the day and night...
Except that one night a few days ago it seemed. The happy look on his face was quick to disappear. Fuck, what had he been thinking? He couldn't fathom his thought patterns that evening, it was simply impossible. He supposed that he had just had too much to drink, or enough to blur his judgment at least.
Maybe he had tried to get his thoughts away from Ryou for a while? To stop thinking about his own cowardice, how he couldn't come out and tell Ryou...
That he loved him. Because he did.
Well, then his plan had worked flawlessly hadn't it! He had promptly forgot all about Ryou, and gone ahead and fooled around with someone he apparently picked up at the bar he was destroying his brains at.
Well done Bakura, he had to give himself a pat on the back for that one, work well done.
Fuck, he felt like crying now.
Bakura swiftly stood up and stormed out of the park without further ado, already deciding to go drinking as soon as the sun set, to forget his latest major fuck up and destroy some more of his apparently useless braincells.
In his hurry to leave, Bakura missed the slightly dulled green eyes staring at his back with longing before their owner's attention was again demanded by the people around him.