MY KIND OF LOVE VERSION 2
A small skinny boy sat on a dark alley shivering from the cold. His long blond hair clang to his dirty face, just like the rags that at some point were called clothes, almost covered his body. The sky was crying for the boy again, causing him more problems. He was now cold and wet.
"I don't need pity." That's what the boy always thought.
Yet, when it came to people, he learned never to ask them for food or money. People; were strange and he was just a stranger. People were cruel and didn't care about a homeless, starving boy. The boy hugged his knees to his chest, embracing them with his skinny naked arms. He hang his head down, letting it rest between his knees and breathed slowly to warm himself up.
Deidara was his name; it meant God, but he felt more human than human. He felt alone, misunderstood, unlucky and that life was really unfair. Why would life give so much to some people and take more than she should from somebody who actually needed it? He never understood why. Was it him? Did he do something wrong? The thirteen year old sighed. Maybe it was his fault. He had killed his mother on birth and drove his father away, ending up on an orphanage, only to get abused by the warden. He shivered thinking about the warden. The beating he received from him still hurt, and there was still evidence all over his body, to back up these memories. That's why he left. Now, he was homeless and hungry, cold and lonely, as well as defenseless to the dangers and monsters of this world.
The carbon box he lived in, was now soaked from the sky's tears. Rain… He always hated the rain. A constant reminder of his part; rainy and cold. He sometimes wished for death. He would welcome him if he came. But he never came to save him from his destiny. And in the end, why would death want him. Even his father didn't like him. He was an outcast, a murderer.
He never liked looking up, his head always downwards; everything about the sky. He hated looking around, at the people and with time, discovered that they too, hated his image. Who would love him? He sighed again and closed his eyes. When was he going to die? When would this person, people called God, save him? He decided that he hated God; that he never existed. That would be the reason why he never helped him.
His stomach growled and he tried to muffle the sound by hugging his legs closer to his weak frame. He always thought of himself as a tool; hunger wasn't new. He was used to be starved. The cold was helping by numbing the pain on his wounded, bloody, shoeless feet. Yes, he loved the cold.
He placed his hands on the roof of his 'house'. The box was melting from the rainfall that went on for two days now. The carton ripped apart and his shelter became soaked pieces that already started to decompose. The raindrops fell on his small body making a comforting layer of water form on him, like a blanket. Dirt and filth was smeared on his chubby face. The golden locks that cascaded that face, were now a dirty blond-brown. His pink full lips in a thin line as his life-drained, blue colored eyes shut once again, accepting their luck.
Once his eyes opened again, he saw a hand extended in front of him. It took several minutes for him to understand what had happened; a human turned his attention to him. From past experience, he knew that when a human looked at him, he either wanted to hurt him or take advantage of him in some way. This human though, was the most beautiful he had ever seen. He had muddy brown eyes and short red hair that framed his beautiful structured face. This person was like an angel. Was he finally dead? Did life spare him? The 'angel' frowned. No, this angel wouldn't take him away, to heaven. He felt another sharp pain from his cold feet, reminding him that he was still alive; so this 'angel' is a human, after all.
The blond shrunk into a small shivering ball, trying to make the pretty man go away. The redhead narrowed his eyes, as he examined the blonde's surroundings. The boy flinched when the man reached for out for him again. The man stopped his advances probably aware of Deidara's discomfort. The man's expression changed to one of pity and hurt.
-Don't trust him-
A voice yelled into the boy's head. He opened his mouth to say something but as in instinct, he closed his eyes waiting for harsh words.
"I'll take care of you; come with me…"
His velvety voice sang to Deidara, like a melody in his ears. It took him some time to realize what he told him. He wants to take care of him? Why? What's the reason of his caring?
-He wants to hurt you; just like the others-
"I'm Sasori, what's your name?" he asked still frowning.
"D-Deidara" His voice cracked much to his displeasure.
Everything has been so bad for the poor boy that he couldn't believe that something as good as this could happen to him. It makes no sense. Everything felt like a dream.
"Why?" the boy finally asked.
"Because I want to." The man said firmly.
The boy stared at the redhead. Was he serious?
"Lets me help you…" Sasori pleaded and the blond simply nodded.
The man picked him up bridal style, making Deidara yelp.
"I won't hurt you…" the redhead promised.
Deidara put his hands around Sasori's neck, holding tightly, still unsure of his attentions. His blue eyes closed as the source of warmth engulfed him and sleep took over.
Okay guys, tell me what you think about this one?!