Rose Tint My World
Yugi stirred his drink with his straw, pouting lower lip under attack as he chewed it nervously. He was eighteen, short for his age and in the habit of wearing less than ordinary clothes; such as the tight one-shouldered purple t-shirt and too large black jeans that hung from his slender hips, both partially covered by an oversize black denim jacket. In the dim, hazy atmosphere of the nightclub he seemed to fade into the background at the edges, his shape unclear in the gloom of cigarette smoke and poorly made lamps. He hunched his small shoulders forward as he sipped the drink, slender body sinking back into the jacket as he tried to make himself as small and discrete as possible.
That was rather difficult for him given his choice of hairstyle. He would have been a blond, if he'd been content the way he was born, but his short his hair was spiked up with gel all over his head and dyed a lighter black that gleamed purple when the light hit it; only his bangs remained their natural colour and hung long over his face. He tucked one side behind his ear, leaving the other the curl against the soft line of his cheek and jaw, so delicate and pale he looked almost feminine at first glance. His nose dipped at the bridge and ended in a round tip that curled cutely and added to the youthfulness of his face. The ear he allowed to show was studded with four silver earrings and a clasp higher up.
His thin fingers tugged nervously on the piercings, nails he'd painted black on a strange whim clicking against the tiny jewelry. He wanted to be inconspicuous because it was about the hundredth Friday night in a row he had come to this same club, sitting at one of the tables and ordering one drink he would barely touch. This joint had been a ritzy place once upon a time, catering to wealthy patrons and their exclusive friends… but it had faded over the years to become close to nothing, mostly a bar now, except for Friday. On Friday this run down building was home to an angel. The Angel was the reason he was nervous.
Yugi had never spoken to him, but he felt as if he knew him better than anyone else he'd met in his whole life. They stared at each other the entire time the Angel was on stage. On stage… Angel was a singer, the last singer to ever perform there, most likely, and the best, too. He sang with a voice so pure and faultlessly toned that it made all who heard it weep, either openly or silently on the inside. He had a range that reached up higher and higher until it touched the heavens, and sank so low it could have brushed the bottom of the sea. Yugi, who attended one of the finest music schools in the city, could not even be certain if his Angel was a tenor or a baritone… or both…
That voice carried Yugi away from the club, the much abused tabletops and grunge-green carpet, the mostly broken lights and the smoky haze that swirled almost threateningly along the ceiling, his own pathetic little life lonely and without company. The only person Yugi still had was his aging Grandfather... but his time was growing short and the teenager knew that when it was up, he would fall into the chasm that had slowly cracked open before him these years he'd been alone. The Angel swooped down to catch him with flowing wings of song, carrying him to safety and protecting him from his own black despair.
Yugi came every Friday night because he had to, because he was draw by a curious compulsion that wouldn't allow him to ignore its pull. He'd tried to stay away, once, just to see if he could... And was surprised when he wasn't disturbed at all by the knowledge that he couldn't. He didn't mind needing that beautiful voice, he just wished he could understand why.... He heard plenty of breathtaking singers, he sang very well himself in a soft, melodic tenor, but nothing touched him like his Angel did.
When it was finally time and the Angel walked across the small, dirty and uneven stage, pounded by uncountable thousands of tap shoes and jazz players' heels, stained with spilled drinks and other unmentionables from failed acts that preceded the performer who stood there now. He appeared to be very tall to those who saw him on the stage, in reality he was barely average height and his long black duster coats gained most of their majestic unfurling length from his lackluster natural gift.
His hair was long, spilling over his shoulders in silky waves of ebony black, the front streaked blond from the hours the owner spent working in the sun, also tanning his skin a dusty, golden brown. He would have been dark, regardless, that much was obvious from the sharp curves of foreign-looking eyes and the strange over-definition of his lips. That generous mouth was curved in an enigmatic smirk as ruby-brown eyes sought crystal blue that glittered almost purple in the soft light. He knew the boy watched him.
The line of his jaw was hard and strong, set determinedly with the resolve of a king. His cheekbones were high and angular, like the sharp nose that his demure almost seemed to suggest he should look down along at all other beings who approached him. In every way, the elegant set of his broad shoulders, the grace of his walk and the unwavering willfulness of his stance, his appearance screamed that there was more to him than a simple singer. He ran his hand along his ear in the gesture he made before every performance- Yugi didn't know why, it couldn't be out of nerves- making the long gold earring he wore tinkle like a tiny bell.
The Angel raised his hands to grasp the mike, bracelets sliding down lightly muscled arms to pool at his elbows with many tiny metallic clinks. He grinned out at the one person watching him who's opinion actually mattered and drew breath to sing, knowing it was the beautiful this boy liked… it was the flawless, classical voice he came to hear. So that is what he would give him, a man who worshipped beauty in any form, the Angel loved to bestow the one that was in his power on others.
'My hear foreseeing your condemnation into this tomb,
I made my way by stealth and here,
Far from every human gaze,
In your arms I wished to die…'
It was meant to be sung by a soprano… but he didn't care. He could sing it, and he was never one to care whether or not anyone intended things to be sung the way in which he sang them. Mixed with no discernable edges into other songs and things he added himself. And it made the sweet, beautiful boy who watched and listened over and over cry his eyes out every single time.
The Angel switched key and dropped an octave and a half into a new a different song,
I went walking yesterday,
To a place I've never been
The river rolled by on the bay
And the yellow beans were green.
The familiar hills were dead,
And black with rancid dew
The living green of winter shed
Was as beautiful to me as you.
I heard someone calling me,
But they didn't say my name
The man I loved sat down at tea
All his long hair black and same
His eyes were silver as the moon,
His gaze was icy blue
His coat was blacker than a coon
And I saw his red one, too.
The Angel changed again, back to opera written for a woman and away from the strange works of his own hand that intrigued Yugi more than anything else he'd ever heard. The melodies twisted and spine-tingling, all of them in minor keys seldom touched by most composers, keys that left the listener haunted and stripped of masks and safe-guards. The words were always wrong, paradoxes and oxymorons that couldn't make any sense… and yet did. They did to the petite purple-haired boy; at least, he liked to think he understood a curious kind of genius coming from that stage.
Holy Angel in Heaven blessed,
My spirit longs with thee to rest.
Almighty, pardon grant, I implore thee,
For soon I shall appear before thee!
Holy Angel in Heaven blessed
My spirit longs with thee to rest!
Usually when his voice fell silent, the Angel would retreat to the wings and quickly disappear before Yugi could even begin to gather the courage to speak to him. How could he be so drawn to someone he'd never spoken to? He didn't even know his name… but he felt the strongest pull, as if there was something for him to do that nothing could prevent. Yugi didn't know why, but he half-expected the Angel to feel the same pull and the same sense of knowing… He half expected to love and be loved in return the moment they exchanged names.
This night, the Angel didn't disappear into the darkness backstage and off to wherever he came from, he walked calmly down the steps into the club and crossed the room, billowing black coat trailing him like a pair of dark wings. Beneath his lithe body was hugged tight by black leather covered in studded belts and a bandoleer, which held a small dagger, glinting from its hiding place tucked between the wearer's side and arm. The Angel seemed indifferent to the attention he attracted with his slow and elegant movements, slipping with dance-like grace into Yugi's booth. He nodded to the younger-looking boy, smiling predatorily, as he tossed his long hair over his shoulder.
"You're always here…" he observed, "At least, always when I'm here."
Yugi flushed, looking down at his hands and picking his painted nails, he wasn't ready for this meeting yet! The Angel's speaking voice was much, much deeper than he would have expected and the rolling way his words fell from his lips added even more majesty to his already kingly aura. "I-I… your voice helps me to forget… Things I'd like to leave behind." Like a lifetime of torture and loneliness… he added silently.
"My voice is my realease… so really, it shouldn't help you." The Angel sat back, grinning darkly, "Of course, you could not know that."
"I did." Yugi said firmly, without thinking about it, "I could feel it in the way you sang... that you were trying to let something go..."
The man across the table raised a pierced eyebrow, then softened his expression as if suddenly understanding. "I'd like to forget, little one," he sighed, "I'd like so much to forget, but I have no one to sing for me… to be my Angel."
The pointed look was not lost on the fair-skinned boy, "I… My name is Yugi…" he leaned forward suddenly, grabbing the slender, nimble fingers of the singer, his eyes and voice turning urgent, "I can help you. I know I can, somehow I just- ." He sighed, "This must sound really weird and way too forward, but I can help you the way you've already helped me... I think I'm supposed to help you."
"Yugi…" Yami looked into those crystal orbs, wondering for the millionth time since he'd first seen them how they managed to look almost violet in the flicker of light, "Nothing I've ever done and no one I've ever met has ever cleared my mind for one moment. What would make you different- I don't even know you... I don't know anyone anymore."
"But you could get to know me," Yugi pleaded with his eyes, wide, innocent eyes that managed to penetrate through Yami's defenses in a way he didn't like, he squirmed under that gaze, feeling inexplicably that Yugi could see quite easily ever terrible thing he'd ever done.
"No," he sighed finally, wincing away from the fallen look of the other boy, "I couldn't. I can't... I can't let myself be venerable like that just for the sake of some kid; I'm sorry, you don't want to know me anyway."
"I do..." Yugi looked down at the table, drawing patterns on the stained surface with his fingertip, "I can't explain this feeling, but you have to believe me- I know what I'm doing. Nothing you've done will scare me; I've been through a lot even though I don't look it. I've lived through some rough stuff."
"Maybe you have, kid," ruby eyes seemed to gleam almost crimson in the dim light, "But I don't need you and you're better off without me."
Yugi looked up at his Angel again, taking him in from this new vantagepoint closer up. Darkness framed him so perfectly, as if he were its greatest accomplishment, as if the night was proud to bring him forth and call him its child. The blackness seemed to settle around him, flurries of shadows stirring when he shifted or moved his hands, night seeping from those mysterious eyes and caressing Yugi's own alabaster skin. He seemed to touch without touching and speak without speaking- everything about the Angel was nonsensical- and yet made more sense than anything.
Yugi wanted him, wanted to help him, wanted to set him free... And wanted to gain his own freedom in doing so.
"You've got blinders on." Yugi commented briskly, looking at his companion from the corner of his eye.
"Excuse me? I'm nothing if not disillusioned, little one- it's you who sees the world through rose coloured glasses. I could be anyone or anything- you don't know and you're sitting there so trustingly in one of the seediest joints in town. I could drag you into the alley and kill you and none of these people who so much as peep to the cops."
"Well maybe seeing the world a little different then it really is isn't so bad, maybe a little imaginary goodness can help real goodness grow." Yugi smiled at the other's expression, "You think I'm naïve, but I'm not. I just don't want to see the world as a dark and dangerous place- if I did; I'd be jaded, like you. You and I both know no one wants to get like that; you just finished saying you wished you could forget."
"You're not playing by the rules," the Angel purred, leaning back in his seat to observe Yugi, stretching his arms over the back of the bench and his legs out into the walkway, "Only I get personal, you're supposed to be vague and philosophical."
Yugi grinned ferally, "Who said I was going to play fair?"
Yami nodded in acknowledgement, seemingly indifferent to the change in tone.
"What's so wrong with letting yourself be counted a fool or an innocent, as long as it means you live a happier life? I'm not sheltered; I'd just like to have half a chance at joy before I decide it's hopeless. Why can't you give yourself the same chance?" Yugi's eyes were tender, he didn't know why he cared so much, but he wasn't going to fight it anymore, "Why is hope so impossible?"
"You don't know what I've done." Yami muttered darkly.
Yugi shrugged, "I don't need to, it's not important. What's important is believing there's some good left in the world and trying to get closer to it."
"Are you good embodied?"
Yugi flushed, shaking his head.
"Well, then why do you think you can help me? According to you you'd have to be personified goodness." Yami smiled wryly, "And although you look like an innocent child, I just don't buy that."
"I may not be goodness itself," the teen smiled, tilting his head to give the other his best angle, baiting his last hook, "But I can put just enough rose in your glasses to give you a better outlook. You don't need to trust me right away, you don't need to open right up before you're ready… but give me a chance to give you a chance."
Yami slid his hand across the table; taking the smaller of the young man and letting a contented smile cross his handsome face. The kid was right, and besides, he was beautiful… and intriguing, "All right, Yugi, rose tint my world."
AN: "I Went Walking" is a poem I wrote, the other quotations are from "Aida" and "Faust" respectively.