Hey people. :3
So, this is a bit of an odd one for me. No names are used – in fact this could very well be any pairing whatsoever, girls and boys, co-ed, gay, whatever.
I wrote this in the agenda that I never used last year during school. There are three stories, including this one, all similar to each other in writing and vagueness.
I toyed with the idea of simply keeping this to myself – mostly because I don't see this as a fanfiction but just kinda a whimsical thing – but I thought I'd throw this out there and see what you all thought.
It's mine though. So paws off. :3
One Shot
Crushed
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
The question was quiet, spoken in the darkness of the room.
I opened my eyes.
"Why do you ask?"
He gazed at me, as if I were the only thing in the world. His world.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
There was that question again. That same question. I gazed at him carefully, and he kept looking back at me, his eyes catching the faint moonlight and turning it into a nimbus of fire.
Silence. I didn't answer. I didn't know how to.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
He was never going to let that question go, was he?
I blinked.
"Why do you ask?"
A question with a question. That was nothing new. I'm a coward – been a coward. He knew it.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
But why that question? Of all questions in the world that could be asked in the dark of night, why that one? It didn't make sense.
He pushed at me slightly.
"Well?" He asked. "Answer."
That was just like him. If he wasn't asking a question, he was demanding you answer one. His words rang in my head.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
Crushed by what? Stress? Stone? Hate? Sorrow? Rage? By what? How does someone answer that? It didn't make sense.
I was silent. He gazed at me.
"Answer."
I couldn't.
Why that question? What does he mean? Is this a test? Some cruel joke? Some twisted game?
I shifted my eyes to meet his gaze again, my head turning slightly.
What is he trying to prove?
He merely gazed at me. We were both silent. It would stay silent until I answered. I knew how he worked.
He knew how I worked too.
The question rang through my heard again, like an endless chorus.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
Crushed by life…
Crushed by fear…
Crushed by madness…
Crushed by fate…
What does it matter how?
There is no way to relieve the burden.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
The question hung in the air. A lingering fog. A remnant poison. An inevitable doom.
I closed my eyes.
"No," I breathed. "I don't." The next words were soft but pulsed with all the power in the world.
"Make me feel it."
Then he was in my vision, the only thing I could see, bearing down with all the earthly force one could possess, his hands on my skin. With a body that felt like it had just awakened, I rose to meet him.
A rose to be crushed.
There was no talking for the rest of the night.
----
The next morning was strangely tense. My back ached, and my spine felt like it had been smashed, cracked into pieces. I didn't complain though.
Coward though I may be, I am not weak.
But neither is he.
There was silence as he entered the room, wearing nothing but silk red boxers, though it was cold in the early morning air.
I could feel his eyes on my back, but I didn't turn around. I could feel his presence – strangely cold when it had previously been so hot the night before –behind me, but I said nothing.
There was silence for a moment.
Then there was a change in the air as he seemed to smirk. I knew he did because the same expression crept across my face without any cause whatsoever.
He began to speak.
"So–"
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
I had turned to face him, leaning against the sink and smirking at him, my eyes twinkling. He merely gazed at me, his expression unreadable.
Then he turned and walked back the way he came.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
Smirking, I turned back to the skin, turning the water on to start washing the dishes left over from the night before.
Then I heard an earsplitting cry from the street below, and a sickening crunch as something hit the pavement.
I smirked again, not raising my eyes to look at the window as sirens began to sound and commotion began to rise.
There was a balcony in our bedroom.
Silently, I finished the dishes and dried them, putting them away.
Then I dressed and pulled on my coat, pulling a hat low on my forehead.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
The question was spoken to a nimbus of fire, created by lighter fluid and matches, as I left, nothing but my money in my pockets as I took the eight flights of stairs down.
Let the place burn down.
Not like I cared.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
I stepped out onto the street, my eyes hidden and my coat gathered tight about me in the chill of the air. A crowd had fathered, and no one noticed me step out.
Police and an ambulance were already there. If one were to look up, they'd see the orange glow of flames in an eighth story window.
But no one was looking up.
There were all looking down.
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
I headed the opposite way.
Crushed by what? It had never made any sense.
It did now.
"Do you feel lit?"
The words were out of my mouth, soft and breathless as I walked, almost ran.
"Being crushed?"
As soon as the crowd thinned –
"Crushed?"
I broke into a dash, sprinting down the street.
"Crushed!"
Whoever said outside things were one to crush you?"
"Do you feel like you're being crushed?"
No!
When love is the heaviest weight of them all?
"Do you feel like you're being–?"
NO!
Make me feel it.
And suddenly air was beneath my feet.
Crushed.
End Crushed
Do you understand it? I kinda do, but I kinda don't at the same time. I can see what Naruto pairings this can possibly be.
Oh well. *shrugs*
I like it though. :)
Review? Just to tell me what you think? Or what you got out of it?
Thankies~! 3
Ja ne!
DDB
