Huh... I didn't think it'd be this short. Ah well, considered the breaks and spaces, then no wonder. A short story to make me forget about my projects... and homework and schedules. Ahh lame. For some reason, I'm getting into Haruhi again. In fact, I might reconsider watching the new season. Ahh well, stupid Itsuki and Jack.

I was listening to "From a Shell" by Lisa Germano. Nice song, really. Try it. Anyway, short and simple is the story. I wasn't really thinking so some parts are confusing by you get the gist. And yes, some words repeat for a reason. Kill me.

Whispers and whispers

The sun is orange and yellow and red. And the floor is red. Red? The floor? It feels squishy, wet and slimy. Water is clear blue and feels smooth. Break looks down. This is not water, not at all.

Not not not a sound.

Blood is red and blood is slimy. Blood matches perfectly with his wine red eye and his ashy white hair. It decorates him beautifully. It decorates Break while Break stands there, staring at the red water.

No, no, no noise?

Blood is a liquid. Blood shouldn't be tangling him with vines and little thin string-lines. Break is not scared. No, Break believes its redemption. His of course, his redemption. And his failure.

Screams and screams.

Now, Break, now Break is scared. Yes very. His eye widens and he struggles now. And there's screams and there's screams but they are not his. Break isn't one to scream. it's the red water that screams. And it's the red water that giggles at his failure.

"Break…?"

A voice in a voice.

Blood is a liquid so why are there red hands climbing up his leg? One hand covers his mouth, his late attempt to scream is stopped. Blood doesn't feel good. Blood doesn't feel right. Unconsciously, he twitches.

"Break..! Break..!"

After all these years, he still doesn't like red water.

Red eye is widened and he pushes whatever is on him. His heart is pounding and he is slowly focusing his vision. Sweat decorates his neck and face. A room, he's in a room, a bed room. Something touches his shoulder and he instantly slaps it away. He turns around. Gilbert is staring right at him.

"Break, are you okay?"

His mind isn't working well. He doesn't quite understand what Gilbert is saying. When Gilbert says it again, then he understands. Break puts his poker face on, like usual, and laughs.

"Worrying isn't like you, little raven," Break throws a tongue at the older male.

Break… is still terrified. A nightmare would be an underestimate. And it wasn't like Break to talk about it, especially to Gilbert. Gilbert, though, is half-heartedly glaring at him. Break hopes that he's mad at him and won't refer back to his episode. Gilbert narrows his eyes, Break takes notice.

"You know… you seemed terrified. You were mumbling something about blood and fear…"

Break stares at him, his face unreadable. That was one of the things Break could do. He could smile a smile, real or fake, or not even do anything and stare at others with such an unreadable expression, they would just have to drop it.

The soul speaks and part of him with some sort of relief or comfort.

The white blanket is wrapped gently around his cold body, covered with sweat. A hand is gently pushing him back to his earlier position. The blanket is being tucked in as the body next to him lies down as well. Golden eyes avert his gaze and his face is tinted with pink.

"I-I'm right here so… t-try to go to sleep," Break sees him hunch his shoulders, the pink growing darker.

To his happiness and dismay, he smiles at the embarrassed male. His arms slowly mold themselves around the male's body, pressing him closer to his chest (unconsciously closer to his heart). By then, his heartbeats have slowed themselves back to normal. As if it wasn't Gilbert that was wrapped around his arms, Break buries his face against the crook of his neck and his hair.

The shell is fragile but sturdy.

Break finds comfort. Break finds relief. His eye slowly closes, he's drifting back to sleep again. From quick, short breaths to normal breathing to slow, lulled breaths, sleep is quickly overcoming him. Of course, he notices that Gilbert doesn't fight back or make any remark.

From inside a little shell.

Break smirks a bit before shutting his mind completely. Gilbert… is probably as red as a tomato by now. His dreams are dreams again. Normal, loving dreams.

To be found… To be found…