CHELSEA WELSH
Summary-Bakura Had Never Believed In Angels...
"Damn." I exhaled smoke easily from my mouth, no longer feeling the burning in my lungs. The red glow cast shadow over my face, my white hair standing out more than usual. The stairs, cement of course, were still cold after a half hour of sitting on them and snow had begun to freeze on the sidewalks. I pitied whoever would walk out of this apartment in the morning. ...I wanted to pity myself because this was where I would be sleeping. My parents had died in a car crash when I was twelve, followed by my older brother from cancer when I was thirteen. Now, at sixteen, I was one of those homeless people I had always feared. The people with death in their eyes.
"Come on baby. It'll only hurt a little bit."
I hated those voices. Demons with the faces of humans, hunting after the innocent like the animals that they were. I forced my heavy eyes to look across the street, seeing three guys surrounding someone...feminine, but obviously male. What shocked me was his hair; silver-white tamer than my own, but the color matched. Something came over in that moment, and I walked over. "Hey!" my gruff voice made them raise their heads. The taller one had his arm around the slim one of my look-alike; the pressure would leave a bruise. His eyes, small but fierce, gazed right into my own. "Let him go." He laughed.
His damn teeth cut up my knuckles...but he ran. Him and his so-called gang. I stared down at the corner of the alley I stood in.
White hair, chocolate eyes filled to overflowing with tears. He wore a plain blue t-shirt and ripped jeans, revealing cuts, bruises and scars that traveled even beneath the clothing. "Hey, you okay?" My voice was softer than I was used to. He just stared at me with eyes that contained no pupils; he could have been blind were he not maintaining eye contact. "Do you know where you live?"
He nodded.
I sighed, tiring of the timid behaviour. "I know you can talk. I heard you whimpering. Can you tell me your name?" He hesitated before speaking horsely, one hand covering his lips in a shy fashion, "Ryou...my name is Ryou." Okay then... I helped him up, rougher than I had intended. He stared at me; that look a kicked puppy gives you. Damn.
I helped him along the sidewalk, hoping to find somewhere to get a cup of coffee and a ride home for him. He leaned against me. For some reason, that didn't bother. "How old are you?" I didn't expect an answer and I didn't recieve one. He was lightly biting his lip, which had begun to bleed. I tried not to care.
"Sir?" I let out a grunt of acknowledgement and a soft hand grabbed my own. He was staring at the sidewalk. "...Thank you for helping me..." How old was this kid? I asked and almost had a heart attack at the answer. Fourteen... A kid out on his own, getting the crap kicked out of him and he was clinging to me, probably not letting go anytime soon. Damn again!
I almost fell over as he came to a sudden stop, right in front of the closed-down library with a missing 'b'. "Ryou, come on. We should-" He stopped me with a weird look. He looked...lost. His brow lightly furrowed and eyes overflowing with sadness. He was asking for my help...something I couldn't give him...something I didn't want to give him. I didn't want to get involved; maybe I'm just a bastard.
Ryou slowly wrapped his arms around my middle. "Bakura?"
What the hell?! I never told him my fucking name! I stared down at the blindingly white hair that was still so neat atop his head.
He looked up at me and his lips slowly caressed my cheek, "Thank you."
My look alike pulled back before I could respond, each movement flowing and he smiled ever so slightly, the tears on his face not apparant to him. His body became like mist, a silver aura embracing him. I thought I was going crazy.
I couldn't breathe...I couldn't look away no matter how much it made my body ache. Ryou's small hand touched my cheek, leaving me feeling warm despite the harsh weather.
He closed his eyes and, in what must have been a nonexistant light, he faded away, leaving me standing on a filthy sidewalk in the middle of downtown New York, listening to wailing traffic. He left me with too many questions; ones that had no answers.
...I never did believe in angels...