Blurring Boundaries
By: NonameJane
Disclaimer- Rk is not mine.
Summary- There is no way to ignore our own darkness, but what happens when the line between dark and light blur and becomes indistinguishable?
AN- Well, I wrote this to alleviate my lack of writing motivation as of late. Look for plenty of rhetoric. Lots of contrasting, I mean it!
He'd seen her cry, heard her sobs stain the night with sorrow. Then he heard her laugh, a stream of laughter, flowing from her lips. She giggled, and if he could have seen her, he knew she was smiling.
What had made her cry? Was it him?
What had made her laugh happily? Was it him?
He didn't know, she confused him in so many ways. So many terrible, beautiful ways. It made him think such dreadful, such wonderful thoughts. Thoughts that comforted him, thoughts that terrified him.
Her face personifies everything he has ever rejected out of his own life. The light twinkling upon its milky plain, the unguarded smile, the unguarded self. He could never brighten his eyes with the same warmth of her own. She could burn him with her eyes if she wanted, and melt his ice-cold boundary into a lukewarm puddle on the floor.
If she wanted. She could do so many things to him if she wanted.
Is there a devil under there, beyond the cheery smiles and utter happiness? Does Misao have her own shadows that contort her into the very person she is. Perhaps, its a facade and she is as fake as he paints himself to be.
Maybe, she knows exactly what it is she is doing to him.
But, nor does he have the desire to mend his being on his own. It'd be the same for him alone, either way. Who would notice?
Her.
What is it, then?
Is it love?
Is it true love? A love lasting after the ones feeling it are long departed, the kind that tones a voice warm when at all mentioning its memory? The kind that sparks a smile on the face of those listening, leaving them in awe to search for the very same feeling to call their own?
Do all people know when they find it?
Has he found it?
Does he know?
Does she know?
Ah...so this is how she felt...how she has been feeling all along. It is pain, but it is heavenly.
He had seen hell once, and she was there. There with him, there. There were roses, black roses, that seemed to bleed along corpses laid about the ground. Red, pooled out of the thorns. There was red everywhere, on everything, everyone, was coated with a thick blanket of blood.
Everything.
Except her.
She was bathed in light, not blood. She looked so clean, so pure, so out of place with her surroundings. An angel?
He was coated with blood, too. She saw none of it.
He sat, looking into the dark. That's the thing about the dark, it acts as a mirror. First you see nothing, black, then you start seeing the worst parts of you reflected into that black. You see everything, it deceives.
The line between love and hate is a thin one, and sometimes he cannot distinguish between the two. He loves war, he hates war. He admires the beauty in life, yet it disgusts him.
She is his heaven and his hell. She is his life and will be the death of him.
Maybe, if he reflected a little more, he could decide, for certain, whether she is his light or his darkness.
Maybe, if he opened his eyes.
AN- I'm fried out, if you couldn't tell by this little number. Actually, I'm playing Kingdom Hearts 2 and Oblivion nonstop. I guess it's noticeable what comes first!
