This is, obviously, dedicated to my god, Knives. It's a one-shot, so don't get tetchy. And since writing it, my love for Legato has risen, so I might write one for him. Or not. I really don't know. So read. And as a disclaimer, if you make me say I don't own Trigun or Knives, I will kill you. End of story.
+
I saw him before me. My heart stopped, and no words came to my lips. There he was, my god, my obsession.
Pale blond hair, brilliant blue eyes that took my breath away. He was slender, and made of both smoothness and sharp angles.
There was no word to describe him, other than one: Perfection. And how do you describe perfection? With one name: Knives.
A cruel smile sat upon his hypnotic lips. He was both darkness and light, and he was beautiful. He was the rose; both fragile as petals and sharp as thorns.
Cold in his hatred, and scorching in his passion, a follower of his own beliefs, the highest being above all others.
He was at once angelic and demonic. He was Lucifer, my Morningstar.
He was beautiful in his perfection, and perfect in his beauty.
As I looked upon him, his mouth opened, and he started to speak. He was speaking to me! From his mouth poured my ambrosia, and formed words in my ears.
"Wake up."
+
"Yo! Wake up!" Mitch's voice overcame me.
I blinked quickly, and saw my friends staring at me. "Sheesh," Mitch said, rolling his eyes. "Hey, daydreamer, how many times do I have to ask you, could you grab me a knife?"