Yes, I know, I should be too busy updating my story rather than writing this. But, I've never done a oneshot, and this is really quite good if I do say so myself. I thought I'd allow you to read my more touching pieces of writing as I tend not to show something like this in a on going piece of writing. Ah, well, this is for all of Hikaru's fangirls. A different side of him I believe. I just do so wish to make him seem more human, rather than allowing him to be a fantasy, ne?
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Blue and pink. How can two colours be so different, yet the same?
Me and my brother: twins, yet sometimes so different it hurts us. They never see that of course. We're just here to provide amusement, just like the others, except they enjoy it.
They enjoy going through the experience of being used, they enjoy making others happy, and through it gaining their own happiness and profit. That's all they're here for. Profit.
Tamaki has others admiring his beauty, therefore he feels better about himself and the fact that he can't see his mother, and will never be excepted by his Grandmother. But as long as he had others admiring him, what does it matter? He is his own God. His own King.
Kyouya is simple. All he wants is the money, and to do something in which his father might deem him worthy. Of course, his father never will, he has other, more capable sons to think about. Why would he need a simpleton who hands around with lots of pretty boys?
Dear reader, at this point you may find me harsh. I am aware that your love for one of your precious twins may be depleted. But then, what does it matter? All you use me for is my beauty an the moments of tenderness I share with my twin. It's not as if you really think of why we do that, nor of how we feel when we realise. You don't love us. You don't even know us.
Actually, I'm not even sure there is an 'us' anymore. Are we now two separate entities, Kaoru? Are we now so detached that my heart should no longer ach when you're not near me: when you're not holding my hand.
I hate when you don't hold my hand. It's cold. These fingers are cold without your embrace upon them. Why do you look away, Kaoru? You only look at me when we're lying, when we're pretending, when fake tears form in those eyes that I no longer compare to my own.
I'm destroying myself now Kaoru. I know these fingers holding this pen should be holding yours. God, I hope I don't start crying: that would mess up the ink.
Isn't it strange that I can think of such worthless things while in a state of depression? You taught me that Kaoru. You taught me how to pretend. I don't want to pretend.
You never see me, you never even try anymore. Was there even an us? There couldn't have been could there, or you wouldn't pull away so carelessly. You wouldn't think I'd be happy to be away. Kaoru, I don't want to be free: I want to stay locked away with you forever.
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The bed's empty. You're there yet I no longer feel the warmth that once surrounded me. Once, awhile ago, I used to lay my head on your chest and listen to your heartbeat. Do you remember Kaoru? In that moment our minds connected. It was like flying, souring above icy clouds, yet feeling ever warm. Because you were there Kaoru. You're not anymore. What if I try to fly again, will you let me fall because you find it an inconvenience to stretch out your arms? I can almost hear your words: "Little birds need to learn to fly sometime." You know what makes me angry, Kaoru? How come you already know how to fly?
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Indeed, I've always been the weaker twin. As a child, I never walked or did anything else without you. I've always been the weaker twin. How can you expect anything different?
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It's been two hours since we argued: Since you walked out of the room. I'm starting to wander on whether or not you'll come back.
You will come back won't you Kaoru?
God, please come back…