Hey y'all, what's up. It's Firey Jazz here, sorry about the wait for a new
story, I've had all sorts of classes to chose from, and that stuff, not to
mention, some really mean professors. But, on to the latest story, and it
starts out Bakura x Yami, but it'll end up being YxY, RxB. That's all.
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO or the songs used. The songs are from Savage Garden, so, don't sue me, I don't have anything.
To Find You Chapter 1: Tears of Pearls
Hearing the slam of a door from downstairs, Ryou was suddenly glad he was upstairs in his room. He didn't have to ask when Bakura was going. It was where he spent most of his time. Every time he thought of where Bakura was going, Ryou wanted more and more to stop him. Knowing that his yami was going to his lover, Yami, caused the young teen's heart to clench painfully.
Yami had been the subject of many arguments between Rou and Bakura. They always ended the same way, and it came to Ryou that it would never change. For every lover that his yami decided to take these would be and equal number of tear on Ryou's part. If only those tears were the pearls they so closely resembled. It was Ryou's weaknes, one that Bakura fed upon, one that if they were pearls would give him riches beyond imagine. The riches he could never have. Not, at least, while he was still tied to his dark and gorgeous yami.
Bakura knew Rou's weakness, and know how to feed upon them. The more weakness he found, the more of that dreadful liquor he consumed. When the yami and hikari argued Bakura felt the liquor going to his head, consuming him with an undeniable inferno.
The alcohol of Ryou's flaws and weakness was becoming something Bakura craved even more then the physical areas of love. He was slowly turning into a perpetual drunk of the ruby colored wine called cruelty. It was this abuse, this Merlot of physical pain that the ancient spirit was addicted to. The passion he felt after drinking the sweet, yet bitter liquor of anguish was a driving force behind his relationship between him and the former Pharaoh, Yami.
True, he loved the Pharaoh. He loved him as much as his addiction. Why would he sacrifice all that he loved for nothing more than the feelings of a boy? Ryou was not actually a boy though; he was a pawn who could be used to receive more of what he craved so much. No, there was no way he would lose all of that.
Glancing at the clock Ryou knew that the spirit wouldn't be back tonight. No, tonight was going to be one of his all night times. 'Oh well,' thought the boy, doing his best to forget about what the two yamis would be doing. 'At least I get the house to myself. No one to criticize my cooking, and I can eve watch a movie. I should be able to get my homework done too.'
Stepping downstairs, it came to Ryou how silent the house was. When Bakura was here there was always noise, sometimes so much that Ryou could hardly think. Instead, tonight the house was filled with a silence like the glacial emptiness of the Antarctic. Reflecting on it, he decided he liked the noise more, and busied himself with fixing some noodles for dinner.
It was not until the early hours of the morning when Bakura returned, reeking of alcohol. The younger teen knew immediately that he would have to tread carefully. One type of liquor complimented another, and when Bakura had one, he had the other. Generally it happened that Bakura was drunk on the liquor of pain before he became drunk on true liquor.
"Bakura," called Ryou as he stepped downstairs once more. As the Egyptian stumbled into the hall, Ryou began to lead him up to his bed where he could crash until he slept the liquor off.
"Le' go o' me," snapped Bakura, drunkenness slurring his words. When the hikari did nothing except continue to lead him, the spirit slapped Ryou across the cheek. The sound from the blow echoed through the house like the crack of a firework as it is launched.
Eventually, after many slaps and punches, Ryou always on the receiving end, Bakura was upstairs in his bed. It was always like this when the sprit go drunk, and it was what hurt Ryou the worst. Once he knew that Bakura was asleep he would go to his room and cry.
He cried for the hurt that Bakura was causing without even realizing it. Silver tears glistened in the moonlight as they left trellis down the young teens face. They glistened for the knowledge that this was not the last time this would happen. Tears like pearls fell and shattered on the dark blue carpet, staining it momentarily to black, but turning it to silver in the moonlight before fading away. Staining the carpet black as Bakura's soul, and turning the carpet sliver in a picturesque image of the ice that was Bakura's soul. Yes, Ryou cried, cried for loss, for love, and for a hope that would never be.
Through the tears, however, there was also anger. It was the kind of anger that consumed; burned with a raging fire; grew like a wildfire and then left nothing in its wake. In a fit of rage created as the fire reached its peak, Ryou smashed his fist against the mirror, effectively shattering it.
As the mirror shattered, the pieces fell, creating silvery pools of glass. The silvery pools were frosty against the dark carpet, winking t him as the moon set. Yes, these tears of glass that simmered up t him were the jewels that would be lost to him forever. They were lost when Bakura began to pick up lovers, and it would not end until Bakura was with no more lovers.
And Ryou cried in his hear, while the world around him shed her tears, filling the lakes and rivers. Yes, the world matched his mood perfectly. As he turned on the radio he caught the last verses of a song that was also perfect for his mood.
Yes, Ryou and Bakura's relationship was like stolen pearls.
Disclaimer: I don't own YGO or the songs used. The songs are from Savage Garden, so, don't sue me, I don't have anything.
To Find You Chapter 1: Tears of Pearls
Hearing the slam of a door from downstairs, Ryou was suddenly glad he was upstairs in his room. He didn't have to ask when Bakura was going. It was where he spent most of his time. Every time he thought of where Bakura was going, Ryou wanted more and more to stop him. Knowing that his yami was going to his lover, Yami, caused the young teen's heart to clench painfully.
Yami had been the subject of many arguments between Rou and Bakura. They always ended the same way, and it came to Ryou that it would never change. For every lover that his yami decided to take these would be and equal number of tear on Ryou's part. If only those tears were the pearls they so closely resembled. It was Ryou's weaknes, one that Bakura fed upon, one that if they were pearls would give him riches beyond imagine. The riches he could never have. Not, at least, while he was still tied to his dark and gorgeous yami.
Bakura knew Rou's weakness, and know how to feed upon them. The more weakness he found, the more of that dreadful liquor he consumed. When the yami and hikari argued Bakura felt the liquor going to his head, consuming him with an undeniable inferno.
The alcohol of Ryou's flaws and weakness was becoming something Bakura craved even more then the physical areas of love. He was slowly turning into a perpetual drunk of the ruby colored wine called cruelty. It was this abuse, this Merlot of physical pain that the ancient spirit was addicted to. The passion he felt after drinking the sweet, yet bitter liquor of anguish was a driving force behind his relationship between him and the former Pharaoh, Yami.
True, he loved the Pharaoh. He loved him as much as his addiction. Why would he sacrifice all that he loved for nothing more than the feelings of a boy? Ryou was not actually a boy though; he was a pawn who could be used to receive more of what he craved so much. No, there was no way he would lose all of that.
Glancing at the clock Ryou knew that the spirit wouldn't be back tonight. No, tonight was going to be one of his all night times. 'Oh well,' thought the boy, doing his best to forget about what the two yamis would be doing. 'At least I get the house to myself. No one to criticize my cooking, and I can eve watch a movie. I should be able to get my homework done too.'
Stepping downstairs, it came to Ryou how silent the house was. When Bakura was here there was always noise, sometimes so much that Ryou could hardly think. Instead, tonight the house was filled with a silence like the glacial emptiness of the Antarctic. Reflecting on it, he decided he liked the noise more, and busied himself with fixing some noodles for dinner.
It was not until the early hours of the morning when Bakura returned, reeking of alcohol. The younger teen knew immediately that he would have to tread carefully. One type of liquor complimented another, and when Bakura had one, he had the other. Generally it happened that Bakura was drunk on the liquor of pain before he became drunk on true liquor.
"Bakura," called Ryou as he stepped downstairs once more. As the Egyptian stumbled into the hall, Ryou began to lead him up to his bed where he could crash until he slept the liquor off.
"Le' go o' me," snapped Bakura, drunkenness slurring his words. When the hikari did nothing except continue to lead him, the spirit slapped Ryou across the cheek. The sound from the blow echoed through the house like the crack of a firework as it is launched.
Eventually, after many slaps and punches, Ryou always on the receiving end, Bakura was upstairs in his bed. It was always like this when the sprit go drunk, and it was what hurt Ryou the worst. Once he knew that Bakura was asleep he would go to his room and cry.
He cried for the hurt that Bakura was causing without even realizing it. Silver tears glistened in the moonlight as they left trellis down the young teens face. They glistened for the knowledge that this was not the last time this would happen. Tears like pearls fell and shattered on the dark blue carpet, staining it momentarily to black, but turning it to silver in the moonlight before fading away. Staining the carpet black as Bakura's soul, and turning the carpet sliver in a picturesque image of the ice that was Bakura's soul. Yes, Ryou cried, cried for loss, for love, and for a hope that would never be.
Through the tears, however, there was also anger. It was the kind of anger that consumed; burned with a raging fire; grew like a wildfire and then left nothing in its wake. In a fit of rage created as the fire reached its peak, Ryou smashed his fist against the mirror, effectively shattering it.
As the mirror shattered, the pieces fell, creating silvery pools of glass. The silvery pools were frosty against the dark carpet, winking t him as the moon set. Yes, these tears of glass that simmered up t him were the jewels that would be lost to him forever. They were lost when Bakura began to pick up lovers, and it would not end until Bakura was with no more lovers.
And Ryou cried in his hear, while the world around him shed her tears, filling the lakes and rivers. Yes, the world matched his mood perfectly. As he turned on the radio he caught the last verses of a song that was also perfect for his mood.
Yes, Ryou and Bakura's relationship was like stolen pearls.