Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN KAZE TO KI NO UTA

It is not my property.

WARNING: a little OOC, maybe?

After spending his entire day working with Pascal about biology questions, Serge was happy to get back to his bedroom. He blew on his hands to warm them a bit. This end of February was still cold and gloomy, but to students' genuine joy, the sky had lighted a bit and offered from time to time a blue color above their heads. Serge could be counted among the happiest ones for this spring return and had observed a few days ago the roses buds blossoming in the gardens.

Lacomblade had become an interesting field where he had found people with different personalities. Of course; there were some bullying guys who couldn't help but choose someone new to tease every week. Serge, thanks to his friends who really appreciated him, had been saved from their tortures plans. But all in all, they were all quite friendly. Rosemarine was, furthermore, more and more praising for his works.

However, something was haunting him like an old unhappy spirit. This thing made him think and dream too much, sometimes he failed to listen to his friends because of that.

The bedroom door opened as he made his way into the dorm.

It was empty.

A strange coldness birthed from this silence, though the wind was playing with the trees branches.

A sensation of both relief and loneliness followed then. Serge remained still. He tried to erase this feeling.

He exhaled a long sigh as he decided to step in the direction of his bed. Pulling his jacket off, he let it fall on his mattress then the boy laid his books down on his desk. He lit his lamp.

" I better keep working instead of thinking about him. That will occupy my mind."

He sat down on his chair and begun reading his lessons.

The time passed quickly and soon the teen had his eyes tired, and he feeling quite drowsy.

He then stood up to get changed.

All at once, a cry escaped his lips as the door opened a second time. A ghostly pale face stuck into the bedroom, then a entire slim body, with dirty clothes that had been ripped off at certain parts.

Gilbert looked like a ghost.

" Gil...Gilbert..." Serge couldn't help his stutter.

The blond and ethereal boy ignored him, his face bare of any expression. He was staring into the void, his eyes fixed on something invisible in front of him. One could say he didn't seem to hear the other person. He closed the door, the action making a weird sound that was the one of doors in very old houses. The brown-haired boy didn't know what to do. A part of him, his caring and generous personality, was pushing him to warm the boy up with a blanket and ask for a doctor. But the other part, aware of Gilbert's wild behaviour, prevented him from doing so. He could be reserved sometimes.

Wordlessly, Gilbert made a step forward...then stumbled.

What did he do again today?

When the boy tried to walk again, he failed. He miserably fell on the wooden ground, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

" Gilbert!!"

Serge hurried to help to pull him on his feet, but a harsh slap on his shoulder made him back up.

" Don't touch me!" a husky yet feminine voice retorted. " I don't want anyone to touch me!"

" B-But look at yourself...You're...you're hurt...?"

Dark eyes saw blood leaving the line between his closed lips. Someone had used violence on him, obviously. Had Gilbert provoked someone once again? Or did he really enjoy being beaten and badly treated? His lovers considered him a doll they could do anything they wanted with. What a poor way of life.

Gilbert stayed on the floor, panting. This was with extreme efforts that he managed to rise to his feet , still with flickering moves. He looked totally unstable. Despite the warning he'd got, Serge couldn't turn a blind eye on him. He was feeling heartbroken to see such beautiful a man becoming a wreck of himself. The golden-haired student stole a peek at him, and this time, he nearly shouted.

" I don't want your pity!! Keep it for yourself!"

" G-Gilbert...It's not pity...I only care about you..."

" And what can you do for me! You mister classy boy! Return to your piano and keep being a model for all of us! I'm sure the teachers will write on your notebooks how kind and studious you are!"

His sarcasm stung at Serge who frowned.

" I...I just want to help you...I don't do this out of pity or selfishness. I don't do it just because it's good...B-But I really want to help you if only you..."

" Bullshit!"

A pillow hit Serge's face hard. The latter gasped, his arm instinctively lifted to protect him.

" Already, you get the attention of Augu, then you are trying to patronize me! I hate that! So don't you dare approach me! I will not tolerate any other than myself! Can you hear me?"

He's howling as if I did something wrong...

His green eyes had been bulged, his cheeks flushed, and his heartbeat had quickened as if he was in a cars race. Once again, Serge wondered...why Gilbert was always rejecting any form of real affection or kindness. Was he so used to people infuriating and despising him that he could not accept any other kind of interest in him? Had he never had any happy moment in his life?

Serge and Gilbert stared into each other's eyes, a silent confrontation taking place between them. The maroon haired teen inspired a gulp of air then exhaled. If this was what the other longed for, well, he wasn't going to refuse that wish.

He turned around, his gaze slightly getting cold and distant. He decided to keep reading, eventually.

Had he ever kept his eyes on the emerald eyed boy, Serge would have seen the glint of sadness and hurt Gilbert was truly feeling. The indifference and coldness Serge was quite able to show could really sadden him.

His clothes were then taken off, as usually. He slid under his blanket, seeking for the warmth he soon found. At this hour, he would already be sleeping and dreaming. But right now, he just couldn't.

Tired, angry, sad, empty of his tears, Gilbert desired rest more than everything. Only...Serge's attitude was disturbing him. He was still not used to his 'indifference', knowing how nice and generous the dark-eyed teen was with others. To be honest with himself, since the pianist was occupying the same bedroom, the blond had grown to enjoy his presence and soft voice,and also strong personality. He hated Serge for this change of heart, but he also found a strange comfort with him. He admitted it to himself.

He hurt him now that Serge showed no attention and care. He was acting as if he was alone in the room. He looked over his shoulder, and then soundlessly turned on his side to watch him better. Serge was still reading and writing, his back facing the blond. He apparently was not feeling preoccupied by the boy who had just pushed him away. Serge was really the most intriguing guy he'd met lately.

He looked more sincere than anyone else in the school.

Fear overcame Gilbert as he tempted with a weak voice to call the other young man.

"...Serge..."

The latter had heard.

And he didn't know if he should respond to the feeble call. His body was already shaking from his hesitation.