Our relationship has always been just this.
Not to say that I'm disappointed with the turnout, of course. Our time together is never wasted, and we never waste time. And I'm always glad I came.
However...
There is one little thing that hangs in the back of my mind, and it pricks me with all its tiny strength when we're like this. I don't just look at him. I see him, and don't tell me there's not a difference. I know he would never accept it. We are each other's toys, our little play-things for when we get bored from the daily toll of life. We were brought together, and we pulled each other in, all too fast, and all too desperately. We were so cold, and so lonely, and now we're nothing but bodies for each other, just radiators of human touch.
But he's not just that to me. I tried to push these thoughts away. I tried to enjoy it like I did before. But the more I touched, the more I felt. The more I looked, the more I saw. And now, I just can't help it. I'm just his toy, but I know without doubt I would take a bullet from him, day or night. The worst part is that I've caught myself crying, now. I know I do this because he would never do the same for me.
I lay on the bed one day, when I had finally had enough of it all, when the prick in my mind had grown into a ruthless spike that I could not dislodge. I sat up, and looked down at him. His shoulders were broad, and his hair was smooth. I reached out my hand to touch it. I curled the fine strands between my fingers. His breath seemed to pause for a moment, but it was just me.
"Hypothetically speaking," I murmured, concentrating on my hand, "what would you do if I told you I loved you?" Again, his breath paused. But again, it was just me.
"Hypothetically speaking, you don't know what love is." he groaned tiredly.
"I think I do." I replied quietly. I released his hair as he rolled over to look at me. He was glaring, but I didn't know why.
"You shouldn't say things like that. It shouldn't be taken lightly." he growled.
I frowned at him. "Your lack of faith in me is appalling." I remarked, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. What a stupid thing for me to say.
He rolled back over and faced the wall. "I know you. You're way too easy."
"I've never had sex with anyone else."
"Oh, really?" he sighed sarcastically. "And I suppose I should believe that, considering we were on top of each other within a month."
"With that evidence, can you claim that you know what love is?" I inquired.
He was quiet for a moment. His eyes were open, staring at the dry-board. He blinked. "And if my answer is no, then I'm hardly in a position to say the same of you."
Again, there was another moment of silence between us, one that I couldn't explain. It was very much like him to simply say something like, 'Neither of us know, so forget it' and sleep. He was a very realistic person, which left only one explanation.
"Have you ever been in love?" I asked him, quite boldly.
He then pulled the bed sheet up to his shoulders and closed his eyes. "Just go to sleep. It's too late to be talking about this stuff." he mumbled, but I knew he wasn't tired. So I continued.
"But I do believe I love you." I told him.
With a heavy inhale, he sat up and glared at me once more. "Never say that. Calling this love? You ruin its name."
He was still and unwavering. It would seem that he would not calm down until I assured him that I understood, but I didn't, and I would not pretend. Slowly, however, I felt I was piecing to together.
"What happened?" I asked him curiously, hardly unnerved.
"What are you talking about?" he demanded.
"At some point, you were obviously very deeply in love. Perhaps you still are. I'm wondering what happened. Why would you be with me if you are so clearly infatuated with someone else?" I wondered aloud, looking over his face. I had never seen him so passionate about anything. But now, he seemed hindered. Something crossed his mind that appeared to be very difficult to say. I worried he might not say it at all.
"I have no one to tell any secrets to. Of course, I wouldn't want to force you into talking about your personal life if you were uncomfortable with it. I am, however, very intrigued."
He shook his head. "This is what I'm talking about, Ryuusaki! If you loved me, you wouldn't be intrigued by the fact that I loved someone else. You would be angry, or sad, or jealous, or something. But you're not! I could say that I was sleeping with someone else, or that I was married, or that I was leaving the country, and you wouldn't give a damn! You don't love me!" he shouted. But he stopped, and his voice trailed. He wouldn't look at me. "If you did..."
I was silent. He turned his head away, and rubbed his eyes, telling me again, "You don't. Please don't say that you do."
"I understand." And I did. I leaned over slowly, and I took his hand from his face. Carefully, I brushed a stray drop of water from his cheek, and gently brought my lips to his, a few fingertips holding him tenderly just beneath his ear. I had kissed Light many times, but I wanted this to be different. This wasn't me wanting him. This was me loving him, and doing everything I could to make him see the difference.
After a moment, I brought the kiss to a slow end, and rested my forehead on his. I murmured softly, "But Light, do you?"
His breathing was shaky. He was confused, and he was delicate. He didn't want his heart broken. Neither did I. I had handed mine to him, but his defenses could slash it into pieces. It had happened so many times, and he hadn't even noticed. But this time, I would stop running around the castle, and finally knock on the door.
"Ryuusaki, I..."
He didn't seem to know how to respond, and the next few seconds were almost completely, nerve-rackingly quiet. I could just about hear the rapid, uncontrollable beatings of a heart, but I couldn't tell whether it was mine or his.
I decided to make it very clear. On a large exhale, I noticed that my breathing was similarly uneven. But I was not deterred. "Light, you're the most important person of my entire life. No one has ever been so close or dear to me, or has seen me like you have, and they never will. I want us to be more than this."
Light suddenly wrapped his around me, pulling me in to fall ungracefully into his lap, but he leaned down to hold me closer still.
"Thank you." he told me, his voice muffled in my shirt. I smiled. Holding me to his chest, he fell backward onto the bed.
"We should go on a date." I told him, and he chuckled.
"Tomorrow night?" he asked.
"I'm free." I replied.
He turned his face down to kiss my head. "Me too."