A/N: Have some one-sided Deathshipping.


The rain pounded against the glass windows as the coffee shop's customers talked about their boring daily lives. A fire crackled in the fireplace of the small shop, spreading warmth to those who were escaping from the rough storm outside. The combination of different noises created a sound of tranquility, warm and inviting, yet mysterious and foreboding. Ryou sat in the back of the coffee shop, nursing a cup of warm tea in his hands. A black laptop was opened in front of him as he read stories of haunts and murder.

This was Ryou's favorite past time; a calming ritual of sorts. When the tension rose in the comfort of his home, no thanks to his older brother and his overworking dad, he escaped to this little shop where he wasted away his time reading dark stories that sent him into a state of paranoia. The adrenaline that coursed through his veins excited him more than any game of Monster World. Though his features were schooled neutrality, his heart pounded in his chest as the fight or flight response worked its way through his body.

In times like these, where he was invested in the dark, thrilling stories on the internet, it was easy to forget the stresses in his life. School, his social life, his own family; all of it was pushed to the back of his mind. Instead, his mind focused on playing out the stories he read in his minds eye. Sometimes, he imagined himself as the victim, the story teller, or even the murderer. He wondered if that made him strange- or, well, stranger.

Ryou already knew he was weird. His fascination and near obsession with the occult was not something that was shared with the majority of the public. It was the one thing about him that he forbid himself to talk about, even to his friends. Especially to his friends. They would probably label him as some kind of freak and leave him to himself. Bakura already avoided him like the plague. He didn't need any more loneliness in his life.

The chime of the door rang as another customer entered the shop, dragging Ryou out from the depths of his mind. As he saw who walked in, his breath caught in his throat and his heart began to throb painfully in his chest. He felt his cheeks grow hot as the tanned body of the new customer went up to the cashier with a deep frown.

Right. He was the reason that Ryou came to this specific coffee shop. Copper skin that stretched over well formed muscles, ashen hair that represented the hot sands of a soothing beach, mauve eyes that betrayed hints of anger and hatred, scathing and acidic, as if something had come and planted the emotions deep inside the very irises of his eyes. The stranger was handsome - god-like even.

Ryou didn't even know his name.

He had seen the handsome stranger the first time Ryou came to that particular coffee shop. The stranger was situated in the back, just like Ryou currently was. The people around the stranger avoided him and made sure to stay out of his way, like how two magnets would repel if faced with the same charge. Ryou was instantly smitten, intrigued and entranced by the dangerous aura that surrounded the strange man. But, try as he might, he could never work up the courage to actually talk to the man he was so charmed by.

The sudden realization that he had been staring at the tanned stranger hit him like a lightning bolt, and he quickly looked back at his laptop screen before he could get caught. His cheeks burned at the mere thought; how embarrassing that would be. A part of Ryou wondered how it would feel, though, to have those dark eyes trained on him, watching his every move, every twitch.

Leaning down slightly, Ryou huffed as he pressed his fingers to his temple and wished the visions away. It felt wrong to daydream about a man he knew literally nothing about, and probably would never know anything about at this rate. He cursed his social awkwardness, wishing that he could be more of an expert when it came to talking to strangers - and handsome ones, at that. However, his visit to this coffee shop would probably end up like all the other times he came here. He'd continue to waste his time, throwing the occasional glance to the handsome man, before he decided it was about time to pack up and head home.

Ah, social interaction, his Achilles' heel.


A/N: Ahahahaha I can't fuckin write romancey shit worth my life. And I don't know how to even begin to write Mariku in this so I'm not even going to try. I started to, but then anxiety and nerves happened and no thank you. I don't even know if I wrote Ryou alright. Both of their characters are so much harder for me to write. They're so complex. Or maybe that's just me making things complicated. But hey, why not leave a review and tell me how I did?