The cold wind whipped Lyon's cloak around, as he wandered in the dead of the night. Sitting on a bench- no, their, bench, he grazed his finger over the initials L.V. + J.L., cold under his touch, and like his heart. His chest drew up, down, up, down with ragged breaths, and he clenched his fist, so tightly that the blood drained away.
If he was worth it, if he was good enough, he wouldn't be here right now. No, he would never be good enough for a sweet angel with a honey-sweet smile and laugh, who had once dared to love him. But, just like always, he had disappointed her, and himself. He didn't care about himself, he just wanted to be enough for her, and in the end, when she'd given him a chance, he hadn't been- proving his theories right.
Closing his eyes, he grimly smiled. This old feeling was back- in fact, it was back, thick with nostalgia. It was cold and bitter, but it didn't lie to him when it told him that he'd messed it up, just like he messed up everything. That he wasn't ever going to be as good as Gray, or anyone else in the least, just because he was Lyon Vastias, and really, nothing could change that...
He let out a breath, and he watched it in front of him, soon dissolving into nothing. He felt a laugh rise within him. That breath reminded him of himself. Of how for a moment Ur saw him, but then that just dissolving away, attention turned to his rival...
Lyon knew he shouldn't be so bitter, knowing this. In fact, wasn't this what he always told himself? What else was new?
He guessed it could only be that he'd made the girl of his various dreams cry, tears slipping down her face, watching her fall into her True One, Gray. He guessed it could only be the harshness of his heart, and words. But wasn't he just trying to protect her?
Wasn't he just looking out for her? So that she wouldn't be disappointed when she found out he was a Nothing, a Useless, a Breath in the Air? His shoulders slumped as he laughed loudly into the cold winter night, as unforgiving as his heart.