Written for The Revolution Forum's Romance Contest
06.23.12 - Please R&R, whatever thoughts or violent emotions.
She met him first, a mere shadow in the darkness. Cold amethyst orbs staring into his fire. Cuts and bruises dusted over his face, his arms.
Nobody knew he was even gone. Nobody knew she was coming. They met in between. Their fates aligning as she walked to his mangled form, touching his bloody face. He moved away but she held on, still checking.
"Let me help you," was all she said. And he stood still, licking his lips as his eyes raked over her. Her battle helmet hair, the milky white skin, and gentle hands. Always gentle: touching, feeling. He was shameless as he took in her everything.
Eleven. That was how old she was. He counted it out until he put his hand over hers, stilling her movements. Their eyes connected in a sizzle. She didn't know what she was feeling, maybe a cold fire, or a hot freeze. He looked at her curiously, hair swaying with the breeze. Then he was gone before she could even blink.
She introduced herself. Shooting a toy gun at anyone that moved close. Her eyes flickered to him for a moment, recognising the boy that played with fire. The loud teacher placed her in front of them, and she ignored all the looks and introductions until finally they left her alone. All but one.
"Hello, my name is Ruka Nogi," blonde hair and blue eyes. Her cold facade softened for a moment, he had that effect on everyone. Natsume was introduced next, but he didn't put out his hand to shake hers like Ruka had. He closed his eyes so that he didn't stare at her candy lips, just waiting to be bitten. Instead he hid his face under a book, closing her off. Making sure that he didn't touch her again, making sure that his heart wouldn't die on him, he had enough problems.
She waited every night for him to come home, tired and broken just a little bit. Gentle hands would clean the cuts, soft words spoke of the world out there, still fresh in her mind. She hadn't been there long enough to lose hope, she would not lose hope in him. Slowly he warmed to her in a way he had only known as a young boy. Slowly he shifted from destruction, to the warmth that a fire brought. And she tended to it, curiously attracted to his danger.
During the day, Ruka chatted continuously, an endless stream of happiness that made up for Natsume's dark. Hotaru was someone in the middle. Very much cold and emotionless, but that did not stop her from caring. It was rare for her to speak, so they listened when her angelic voice sounded. Like an addiction, the only guilty pleasure he would ever allow himself. Enthralled, he would listen and dream. Dream of a better life like he had not known for so long. It was a stupid dream that ruined everything, and he realized that it was why he had stopped dreaming to begin with.
"That's not the way this works," she fought him, tears gathering in her eyes for the first time. He should not have mentioned it, but he had hoped. With the warmth she reserved for him behind her cold glare, she had simply lit his fire. But now he flinched as she touched his face, trying to get him to speak. Perversely, he still craved the touch once she had left.
There sounded like an apology, but he couldn't hear it after the rejection. He had girls chasing after him, professions of love night and day. But she clucked her tongue at them, unaffected. Her only weakness was her compassion for the raven haired boy, the pain he went through to protect the few people that he cared for: Ruka, and now Hotaru. His burning fire, keeping him alive and slowly destroying everything he was. It was because of this that she would care for him in a way that he had never known. In the way that her mother had once shown her, all those months ago.
Darkness seeped into her bones as he moved away when she was finished cleaning his face. But she was tired of apologizing when he would not listen, cutting her off. It was not her fault that he did not resemble the princes she used to draw as a little girl. It was not her fault that she did not feel the scorching flame of his affection as he did for her. It was not her fault. Despite that, she was still caught in between. Letting him drag her with him to the prison in his mind, where she had once seen but embers of hope.
Pain. Regret.
Her hands laced with his, a warmth to share between them as the nightmares took over. Little fingers stroking his hair, wiping tears away. Too much affection for someone that apparently did not love him. Skin and bones calling out for her. Yearning, wanting, surviving solely on her very being. He still would not believe that she couldn't think of him that way. She disagreed: she cared for him, she cared for his fire. So much, too much. But it wasn't enough, he wasn't enough for her.
A flash of blonde. Orbs as blue as the sky. Little pictures of all the princes she used to dream of. Before the pain, before growing up too fast. It was her light. It was a reminder of the innocence, and that was why she wanted it. That was why she wanted those locks of gold and the warmth in the cerulean eyes.
Caught somewhere in between the darkness and the light. He could never understand why she could care so much for him, not when he was so broken and abused. But that was her secret: she needed him much more than he would ever know. So he found her every night, no matter how long it took, waiting. Grateful, he would hold back just so little hands could soothe the cuts in his heart. And so he waited until he was sure of it again, until he was sure that she would not say no to him once more. Days, weeks, months of nightmares and pain. Little pills that she was forced to watch him take, tears streaming down her face, knowing that it might be the only thing that kept him alive. Little scratches and bruises that she wished were her own. If only she could take it all away. The burning fire that called to her. The burning fire that killed off his own.
Then he had waited enough, he was sure. Hand on his face once more, like the first time, still checking. Then he put his hand over hers, now taller than she, staring down. She stared right back, with all the patience. And with his other hand he gripped her face, just like the movies had taught him. She knew what would happen, eyes registering it with shock. He thought that she had known, but it confused her that he had not stopped trying after all this time.
A kiss. Slow and unsure. All confidence gone from him as he held her to him, wanting her to love him back. Waiting for her to love him back. Tasting what he had hungered for, all those months. A passion that had never subsided, pulling her into him, taking in her everything. Then she backed away, tears pooling at her eyes. Betrayal. He had promised never to speak of it again. The pain of telling him once more that he was not a prince. And she was not his princess. Then regret as he saw her break in front of him, watching his fire die. It was all his fault. He held her like the many nights she held him, whispering in his ear, blocking all the memories. This he did, and it was almost as if everything were as they were. But the next morning, things changed.
"Good Morning! My name is Mikan Sakura!" An easy smile. Warm brown eyes that did not compare to the cool amethyst burning into his very being. Long brown locks that covered his view of the short raven hair, he clucked his tongue at it. The girl introduced herself to him, and she turned to him, amethyst eyes watching it all, taking it all in. He covered his face with a book once more, while the prince with his blonde hair and blue eyes introduced himself warmly. They would make great friends, those two. But he didn't want the warmth, he wanted the shy defiance and the gentle hands pushing his hair back. He wanted the cool violet and the redness of her lips. The ache of longing for something beyond her fairytale, the whispers of a fading memory.
That night she told him, finally admitting. There was his princess. And he was not her prince, she had fallen for the golden sun and the warmth of the sky. There was his princess. They were never meant to be, she admonished. But still she let him rest his head on her lap, tired with desire. One last time she cleaned the cuts, fingers so tiny and body so frail and small, he feared he would break her if he said anymore. So he stayed quiet, savoring the last of her gentle touches. Listening to her soft spoken words, the last dream he would allow himself.
He...moved on. It was a dangerous game to play, falling in love again. It had errors and kinks, and there was always the risk of relapse. But she watched him, training cold amethyst eyes in their direction, not knowing who she was guarding. And all the while, her prince watched the princess with a sigh.
"It hurts when the person you like, likes your best friend." It was said loudly, almost jokingly. But she could hear the pain in his words, see the truth in the blue eyes. And she went cold, almost longing for her old flame, for he would never know. The blonde hair and blue eyes did not know just how right those words were. And he heard them just as they were said, his ruby red meeting her ever-changing violet. It was there, that look.
She could have had him. But she wanted the prince. They both should have known that the prince would want the princess in the end, maybe then there would be much less darkness, much less of a harsh glare emanating from her purple orbs. And as the stupid baka fell, everyone rushed to her, forgetting the cold amethyst eyes. A skirt flashed up, a single tease. The choice she had made for the two of them. It was the princess that needed protection, with her little orange prints as she tripped before him, a graceless girl that needed him more than she ever could. Everyone went to help, everyone wanted the princess. Except for him, not entirely. In that look, she knew it too.
With a laugh, she remembered. She had kissed him first. She had been loved first, with his longing looks and hands that never stilled as they traced her face. She could have had it all. But then there was the light, a faint memory of a childhood taken away from her by the Academy. She thought that she needed it, that she wanted the light. But then her cold amethyst stared into his broken ruby orbs.
She stood her ground, feeling naked before him just like when they had first met. Eyes drinking her in as if it were his last, before he finally forgot just how weak in the knees he became with her around him. A bite on the lips as words held back another profession, then hands to tug him down as the beautiful princess fell once more, clumsy fool.
She had met him first. A flickering ember, beaten and bruised. With gentle hands to pull him from all the ghosts. She had always loved light. The golden sun and his blue sky called to her. But in the darkness, she realized it all.
Caught somewhere in between, the pair of them. Glancing at each other, orbs red with want. And flickers of regret and uncertainty as she watched the little flames die. Turning her eyes away from the sun, she walked into the darkness, wondering why she had ever been caught somewhere in between.
She had always loved light. That was why she liked to stare into his fire.
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love." - Neil Gaiman
To explain a bit (although it would have been much better if you had read into the subtleties):
Character Pairing - Hotaru / Natsume
Character Obsession - Natsume's obsession was Hotaru. Hotaru's obsession was his fire.
Embarrassing Situation - Mikan, as we all know, is a clumsy baka.
I'm sorry my work doesn't exactly correspond to the requirements, but it's just grown on me so I'm not that sorry. I might have stretched the requirements a little bit with the character obsession and embarrassing situation. I fully intended to write them, I swear! But my fanfic took on a life of its own and grew in a way that won't make me regret it if my work is disqualified.
I do hope you can come to appreciate Hotaru's and Natsume's dysfunctional relationship. Thank you.