Heya everyone! I'm writing a little one-shot for all of you to chew on before I update my stories again. Many apologies! I haven't exactly been free to do things. I've had shows to perform and such. Anywho, this was a little idea that popped into my head.
Please enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything.
WARNINGS: Implied sex. Yullen, AlmaxKanda, its not a happy fic.
-Why-
He doesn't look at me. I think it may be the shame. I don't know why. When we pass by each other in the hallway, he doesn't say anything. Not like Lavi or Lenalee. He ignores my presence and it hurts me. I can't help but stare at him, he doesn't notice. He doesn't look back.
-Why-
My Tim rings. Hey, come to my room. Someone says.
I ask who it is, even though I know who.
The person says who do you think idiot bean sprout.
I say oh, I'll be there.
Then Tim stops talking. There must be something wrong because he never asks to see me. He doesn't look at me. But he wants to see me, so I hurry. When I get there I knock on the door.
He opens it and lets me in.
Then he closes it.
He doesn't look at me. I know what he wants me to do. He doesn't have to say anything, he does anyways.
Undress, he says.
I do.
Stop, I say, don't do this to yourself. He doesn't even listen to me. He wants to hurt himself. I say I don't want this, but my body does. It will not lie for me.
He approaches me. He glances at my face for just a minute, he grimaces.
Why do you look away?
His hands are cold when they touch my shoulders, my arms, my face.
He impales himself on me. I can tell it hurts from his face. But he's not looking at me. He's looking at my shoulder.
Why do you look anywhere but my face?
I'm trying to not feel good about this. I don't want to feel good. This isn't what making love should be. It should be about love.
Not this.
Not with someone who will not even look at your face.
But I can't lie to my body. My body won't lie for me. It does feel good.
Alm- He starts to say, then stops, biting his lip. Squeezing his eyes closed.
Allen. He says. Allen, Allen.
But I know whose name he wants to call. Under his breath I know he's saying it.
My hands rest on his shoulders. His thin shoulders and he moves on top of me. I feel disgusted.
He sighs, clenching around me.
And then I shudder.
Even when he comes, he doesn't look at me. His head rests on my shoulder, forehead clammy with sweat.
Why, I begin, why don't you look at me.
He stiffens. His thin self tenses around me. His nails dig ever so slightly into my shoulder. His warm body still sits on me.
I move my hands to touch his face, to bring his face to look at me. Why don't you look at me when we do this?
I want him to look at me, with his eyes.
He looks at me for half a second, his eyes all empty. It scares me, I don't want those eyes. Then his gaze returns to the crook of my neck. I can see his hot tears sliding down his cheeks. I let go of his head. It falls onto my chest. He breaths, I can feel it lightly brushing against my skin.
Why is it, that even when I'm here doing this to you, you don't look at me?
We see each other any other time. Our relationship is just this.
I want him to look at me again. But not those eyes, I don't want to see those eyes.
Why is this?
Because you're not him.
-Why-
Yay short little drabble.
Please review!
~byrdie