A/N: I've been reading over some of my old stories lately. A lot of them are so old that I can actually read through them and feel like I'm reading someone else's work. But one thing I really noticed is that I don't write a lot of first-person stuff. I reread Blood Lust and I decided to write another angsty first-person one-shot. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Albel and Fayt….I only project my own insecurities onto them. Heh.
I am only brave on the outside.
On the inside, I am a twisted mess of emotions. Fear, guilt, despair. Someone like me shouldn't be the leader of anything, much less a group of people trying to save the world. But I put on a brave face and try to smile as we all work our way towards almost certain death and failure. I owe it to all of them since this is mostly my fault anyway.
I try to look normal, act normal, and blend in with everyone else. Of course, to someone with the Destruction Gene, that's nearly impossible. And it just makes the paranoia that much worse. How can I claim to be the leader of the group when I can't even control myself? What if I kill one of my friends? What if I fail and completely ruin our whole mission?
There is probably only one person who truly understands me.
Many people would think Albel and I are complete opposites. He's a cruel, arrogant warrior who doesn't get along with anybody and doesn't care about the fate of the world. If it was up to him, they would all die. I'm supposed to be the good guy, the optimistic leader who believes that we can do it, that we can save the world and make everything right.
We're only different on the surface. But it's what's inside that really counts. We're both so good at putting up masks and fooling the rest of the world about what we're really like. Albel is only a confident warrior on the outside. He acts like death doesn't bother him, but he's seen his share of pain and has been marked with his own hidden scars.
The only difference is that I put on a mask to draw people in and he puts on his mask to keep people out.
We have both been hurt in the past and we are reluctant to trust anyone. I let everyone else think they know me while I keep my real self hidden from them. Albel is reluctant to get too close to anyone because he is afraid they will die just like his father. He's worked so hard to become strong and keep everyone at bay so he'll never suffer the pain of losing a loved one again.
I can't harden my heart like Albel can. I know it's pointless to try. I fear that everyone who gets close to me will end up dying, but I can't push them away. I'm too weak for that. I can't survive the bitter loneliness of having no one around me.
It was inevitable that we would seek solace in each other's arms. It would be just another secret we kept from the world. We both knew the risks and we decided together that we would accept death as the price of momentary happiness. I let confessions spill from my lips in the arms of a man who could one day kill me and I surrendered myself to the danger.
Every morning we would put on a united mask of loose friendship. It was a test of our true abilities of hiding from the world and we passed each morning after a night of passionate sex. It had been hard to chip away at Albel's mask of stoicism and I delighted each night when he lowered it long enough for us to both truly feel alive. Masks were surprisingly easy to put back in place the next morning, like a new change of clothes. No one would ever know why Albel always shared a room with me.
I am determined to keep Albel alive for as long as I can. He may seem tough, but he is wounded on the inside and far more fragile that anyone knows. It is doubtful that we will succeed in our mission and we may both die, but the thought of losing him is far more painful than the thought of my own death.
We must win this fight, for both our sakes, so that we may never need to feel the pain of loss again. We may never recover from the previous damage, but together our broken hearts can slowly start to mend.