DISCLAIMER: I do not own Ouran.
SUMMARY: Sometimes, she thinks she fell in love with a stranger.
MASQUERADE
by Kalachuchi
She could never fully understand him, nor does she even want to try. She had long since accepted that it was part of who he is. There was no need to complicate matters regarding him because, the truth is, he is already far too complicated enough.
He smiles like he knows things nobody else would. Like the shroud of mystery that surrounds him, his smile is subtle, yet dangerous. It is like a seemingly quiet little pond when in fact it hides a deadly whirlpool, always ready to pull you in, and would never let you resurface again.
She thinks she has already fallen into the depths but as he leans forward to kiss her on the forehead, she feels she doesn't mind drowning.
He speaks of beautiful words and unspoken promises. There is nothing that could get past him because he is always looking, always observing. He can see things other people cannot and he uses this to his advantage, if only for the sole purpose of gaining something in return. However, he sees objectively - of mundane things - not of those that truly mattered and perhaps, this is one of the few weaknesses he has.
He strokes her face and she is surprised at the tenderness of his touch.
"Your hand is too cold," she says.
He smiles. "You're too warm."
He is an epitome of elegance, poise and intelligence. An enchanting vision that one would be left wondering if he is a fairytale or not. He wears a mask of composure, always calm and ready to please. He is constantly in control, domineering, secretly waiting for someone to stop him.
He asks her if she regrets being with him and she smiles.
"You should have asked me that before," she tells him.
"If I did, what would you have answered?"
She pauses, looking thoughtful as she blinks. "I would have probably said no."
"And now?"
"I would still say the same, I think," she replies, soliciting a quiet sigh from him.
"I can make you happy if you ask me to," he says softly.
But she doesn't because she thinks she doesn't need his help and they both know she can find happiness on her own. But still, she indulges him because she likes it when he takes his mask off, even if it is for just a moment. And he will still keep on asking her because she might actually let him - miracles can happen after all and he has always wanted to see one.
His eyes are deep, dark and enigmatic. Too deadly a combination, truth to be told, but still beautiful. It holds layers of unexpressed emotions, and truths and lies (too many of them for her to know what is real from not) – all of which he carefully selects which are to be shown in public and which are better kept hidden.
He takes her hand and entwines his fingers with hers. He looks deep in her eyes and says "I love you", and she stops to wonder if it is true.
He is a living paradox, of contradictions and unwavering inconsistencies. She still could not understand him, and she still does not want to try. She sometimes thinks she fell in love with a stranger but she decided that it does not really matter. Not at all.
"Sometimes, you surprise me," she says. He smiles at her.
"That's a good thing, isn't it?"
"Yes," she answers as he pulls her close to him. And in the darkness of the room - with their hands still intertwined and their souls as one, with no one watching them and no one to please - they close their eyes as they drift off to sleep.
She can learn to know him everyday, if that is necessary. She can if she really wants to. But he says he loves her and that is all she ever needs to know.
-the end-