(A/N): This was inspired by both the one-shot series "Junjou Drabbles" written by the ever-so-talented Imaginel, (If your a Junjou Romantica fan then I enthusiastically implore you to check it out. It. Is. Amazing.) ,and conversations I've been having with my two best friends, Rand & Crista (love you guys!)
Anywho. As for this little one-shot (and I do mean little. It's a shorty) I've written here, there isn't much say. I started writting it around 10 o'clock this morning and only just got the chance to post it now. There's basically no plot whatsoever, no smut, It's sorta AU, It's Psychoshipping Yami BakuraxYami Marik, Idk if it'll seem OOC (to me it does), and it's all in Yami Bakura' POV. Other than that, there isn't much to it.
Why am I even posting this...? Whatever. Go read now so I can shut up.
Late Night Mussings
The silence of the night was deafening, the one bedroom apartment was blanketed in darkness with only the light of the full moon to prevent the shadows from taking over completely .
Said light beamed down on garnet eyes through the bedroom window. And despite how still the body was, the mind was ludicrously reeling.
He couldn't sleep. It wasn't because of the quiet, and it certainly was not because of the darkness. None of this bothered Bakura, after all, it's all he's ever known. It's what raised him to be the man he was today; quick on his feet, always ready to hit the ground running. Cunning and—
'Huh.' He thought.
It was odd to think of. Your upbringing, that is. Where you've come from, what it's turned you into, who's influences stuck, and who's influence was never really there.
Had the darkness molded him completely? Or had he actually had some semblance of say in the matter?
How did others see him? How did he see himself? Does any of that really matter? Does anything really matter?
Had he made the right choices? Of course not. At least, not always. But had he learned something from each experience? Or had he not taken in everything he was supposed to?
Was there something missing? Or did he just want to much? What are the qualifications one must have to be considered a good person?
Did he reach those standards at all? Or was he not even close? Despite his efforts to start over, would anyone ever allow him to forget? Would he ever allow himself to forget?
Was he wasting away his existence? Or was this all that was ever meant for him?
He was scarred, he realized. Of the answers to all these questions.
Did he really want to know? Was there anyone out there who could even truthfully answer him? Was there anyone out there who would even care to? Did he want anyone to care?
He turned his head to the side and gazed at the sleeping figure beside him. Had he been brought up differently, as opposed to being so accustomed to the darkness, he wouldn't have been able to make out the near silent figures features.
His wild sandy blonde hair was even more disgruntled then usual. Subtle evidence of their earlier activities. His normally mischievous lilac eyes had been masked by victorious eyelids, which after three rounds of ravenous sex, had finally won the battle and closed for the night.
He couldn't help the small, practically nonexistent, smile that crept onto his pale lips at seeing such a sight. Between all that was mentioned, plus the fact that Mariku was drooling a bit, he realized then and there he at least had one of the answers.
Not that he'd ever admit it.
"Huh. Odd indeed." He whispered into the night.
(A/N): Yep. Pretty damn pointless. But at least I got to write something for my favorite pairing. Even though Mariku didn't have a single line... Maybe I'll write a drabble from his POV next, what do you guys think? Leave your thoughts in a review, their always appriciated ;D
PS. Thank you forever and always JollyBigSis for introducing me to the wonderful series/manga Junjou Romantica. I hearted it! xD
