The Wrongs Of The Heart
You were always there
When I needed you
I was always surrounded with problems
Who could I turn to?
The answer is the same
Always has been, always will be
I'd die for you
But you just don't see
I shouldn't think this
I shouldn't feel it
But it feels so right
So I'll just have to sit
On the wrongs of my heart
I know the scent
Of your favourite blue shirt
What makes you happy
And what makes you hurt
I know the feel
Of your old black jeans
My heart just won't stop
I think I know what that means
It's the wrongs of my heart
I can't be yours
Just as you can't be mine
So I'll try and pass it off
With a 'I'm fine'
But it's not
I can't risk losing
You to these feelings
I can't risk choosing
The wrongs of my heart
'What'cha writing?' came a gruff voice above Haku's right shoulder. Spinning around wildly, Haku clutched the small red notebook to his back and blushed, averting his grey eyes to the floor.
"Nothing! Nothing Zabuza! Wh-Why would you think something was wrong? I'm not doing anything! In fact you could say I was-"
"Haku! Your Aunt is on the phone. You know. The one you're meant to be meeting tomorrow," Zabuza cut in, raising a large, calloused hand, motioning to the open door.
"Of course! I'll just…" Haku sweat dropped and laid the notebook down. Smoothing down his stripy cream and green jumper and black trousers, he went out into the hall and picked up the phone. Zabuza quickly grabbed his chance and snatched the note book up, closed the door and propped himself up against said door.
Nothing his arse.
Flicking through his room mates note book he smiled lightly.
Poetry… drawings… poetry… more poetry… some more drawings.
He sometimes forgot how talented Haku was for a 20 year old. At 25, Zabuza was more of a physical guy. You could tell just by looking at him. Tall, muscled, your typical work out guy. Haku was more a man of words, quiet.
They were Yin and Yang.
Haku preferred sweaters, long tops, clothes that covered him where as Zabuza could have walked around as bare as the day he was born. Haku liked quiet activities, like curling up with a book, sit day dreaming, or listen to some music (on low, of course) yet Zabuza was addicted to noise. He'd turn up the Tv, stomp around, raise his voice, anything to make a noise.
But despite that, they were best friends. Nobody came before Haku in Zabuza's books, just as Zabuza meant the most to Haku. Ever since they met at Kakashi's party 3 years ago they'd been inseparable.
Flicking to the newest poem, he scanned it, random words jumping out. Looking at his attire and back up the poem, his brown eyes scrunching, running a hand through his cropped black hair. This… no… he couldn't… could he? He found himself grinning madly, clasping the book.
One thing Haku and Zabuza had in common? They were both gay. It was two things now; they both loved each other. Lost in the revelation he was shocked when the door burst open, throwing him to the floor.
"Hey, why'd you close the do- Zabuza… you didn't. Please tell me you didn't," Haku barged in shaking his head causing his long black hair to swish behind him. He paused when he realised what Zabuza was holding. And what page it was on. Haku felt tears opear in his eyes, willing himself not to cry. Zabuza hated weakness, and even now, Haku wouldn't do anything to displease him, more than he probably already had.
"I… my Aunt's not coming tomorrow. So… I'll just-" Haku mumbled, hand reaching for the doorknob. The wind was knocked out of him when he was slammed into the door instead, strong arms either side of him. "Za- Zabuza?"
"Is it true?"
Silence.
"I'm sorry."
A sigh.
"Don't be."
Eyes met and the pair smiled, grinning madly.
"So, your Aunt can't make it?" Zabuza asked, lowering his head to Haku's neck. The younger male just nodded eyes closed.
"Pity. Look's like we're gonna have to make plans instead. And you're editing that poem before we do anything."
"Gladly."
The End