SaixNaru shortie. PWP. My first
of the kind, so don't expect too much. Some sex-related ...things
(?!?) if you've got a healthy imagination.
Oh, yeah, and obviously I don't own Naruto... blah... blah. R&R. Thanks
Of Empty Hearts And Empty People
Since the beginning you
thought I was so easy to read.
Calling names, taunting,
socializing according to things you read in books, gathering data,
processing it with almost mathematical precision, it's still too
shallow.
You think my smile is
there because I'm happy. You think my tears come out because I'm sad.
It makes sense. Always analyzing what you find as apparent and by
forcing your logic into it, you overlook the subtle things that
change the meaning of everything completely.
You, who can't show
evidence of feeling any damned thing, think you know me better than I
know myself. You know me very well indeed, but it's the me I want you
and everyone else to see that you know. You can't see behind that,
behind the wall I built around myself. It's like a jutsu you'll never
be able to break.
Only he could. But he's
not here anymore.
Sometimes I think I've
fallen for you. This rigid face of yours reminds me of him, or
perhaps just of the fake him that he puts up. Just as I do. But
you're empty as a carcase inside. Nothing about you changes when
we're alone. You're supposed to be different when there's just the
two of us. Yet you're not. Your hands are cold as always, your
caresses mechanical, your lips frozen and your eyes still. You don't
even whisper my name when you climax [he was
always shouting it, you barely even sweat
[steam was always coming out of his body,
and you leave as soon as everything's over [he
always fell asleep right beside me.
You're not him. But it's
okay. I think that way sometimes. I wish I could fool myself and
imagine you as him, but some part of me just refuses to. My heart
knows you're just a cheap replacement, but my brain wants to act like
it's not aware. And so I do. I crumble at your feet and succumb to
your stiff perversity whilst trying to keep intact my last bit of
sanity and my long broken dream. I'm detestable. Slave to a porcelain
doll-like figure that so strikingly reminds me of someone else, I
selfishly enjoy drowning myself in this bad joke of a lost love...
...end