It all started when I was fixing my garb—I meant things, in the middle of the unholy hours of the morning.
And oddly enough, this accident of a fic happened.
Well, enjoy reading everyone!
Inspired by the song: Make Damn Sure by Taking Back Sunday
You've got this new head filled up with smoke
And I got my veins all tangled close
Close the jukebox box you frequent,
The safest place to hide
Uncalled for waterworks, afflictions and best of all, fortitude—these are purely but fragments of the entirety of what the underworld's cauldron had and will, forcibly make him guzzle down without a sparse amount to be wasted.
And it was all, thanks to such a luminous blaze of intrepidity that is unceasingly engulfing his ruptured being.
In accordance to one, and solely to a single intent
Power
Precisely, that was what the lone member of the Star clan desired.
So when she all at once made her existence known before him, complete with those jubilant, emerald doe-like orbs and that matching expansive grin, a sensation of bewilderment began to arise in his supposedly assured self.
And the line, 'Black Star, I'm so happy you're my friend!' had resulted to nothing but the magnification of the already acute and peevish feeling.
A flick of his vision across the corridor and a devious beam swiftly accentuated his lips.
He knew what he genuinely wanted, he's always had.
A miniature thought waltz about in his mind as his unruffled, teal hued gaze eyed the scythe wielder with her weapon and recently, lover, engrossed in a spirited and amorous conversation.
"Black Star, we're going home now!"
The voice of his raven haired partner fished him out of his pool of contemplation and he orbited his heel to head to the location of the possessor of the tone.
It's not too late.
In fact, it was never too late.
It was merely just the beginning.
I'll make damn sure, that you can't ever leave.
No you won't ever get too far from me,
You won't ever get too far,
Maka
Finally, I can now sleep…well after I've accomplished cleaning up my things.