Song playing while writing this shot:
Alone in this Bed Framing Hanley
498 words out of 500.
Disclaimer: I don't own KHR nor the lyrics used.
'Waking up without you it doesn't feel right...'
Sometimes being alone brings thoughts upon us; thoughts that we never want to deal with, and thoughts that just have to be thought of.
Some thoughts serve as ways to help us remember the past, our memories, others are just there to remind us of our failures.
The problem though...
is that our thoughts remind us too much of what we want, of what we never had, and of things we'll never be able to reach.
He closed his eyes, clearing away the background sounds of Italy from his mind; the purrs of cars, the chatter of women, the boisterous laughter of men, the squealing of young children, he forgot it all.
He imagined himself in the open California desert, the buzz of cars and trucks driving by, each on their way to make memories that they'll quickly forget afterward.
A gentle smile made its way on his lips as he quickly lost himself in his imaginations thoughts, his eyes glazing over and starring into space, ignoring the paperwork and dangling pen between his long, thin fingers.
He easily remembered the nights he spent out there alone, laying on the hood of his faded blue '87 mustang gazing at the bright stars streaked across the velvet background of the sky. If not, he'd be looking through his telescope, writing down in his journal the thoughts that went through his mind as he closely looked at the moon and the space around it.
"Byakuran-sama is the paperwork done?" came the cool collected voice of his second in command.
Lilac hued eyes hardened in a glare, though it was quickly covered by the man's eyelids as he smiled at his partner.
"Almost Irie," he replied voice coming out happily, "Come back within the next thirty minutes, I'll have it done, mm'kay?"
The red headed, bespectacled boy nodded and turned to leave the room. With the soft 'click' of the door closing, Byakuran rested his chin in the palm of his hand, head tilting to the side, eyes looking lonely for a second.
"Geez, why can't Irie do this?" he questioned pouting his lips. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the paper set down in front of him, his fingers finally gripping the pen in his hand.
But his whole outward demeanor contrasted against his inner one.
Two entirely different things they were, his outer-self and inner-self.
One was a mafia boss, always clad in nice pinstriped tuxedos, one that mingled with others like himself, devising ways of destroying them or adding them to his collection.
The other one was a simple college student that liked to hang out on his own, thinking of things, watching things, and gazing at many things. The one that sometimes only worried about exams or essays, or if he'd be managing to make it to dinner with his mother.
One was a mafia boss...wanting the perfect world.
The other was...just wanting to know what he got himself into.
'...to sleep with only memories its harder every night.'
AN:
Know that this is slightly edited.
Know that this is a shot only.:P
Byarukan may be OOC, so sorry for that.
Hopefull you enjoyed what my sleepy self made:)
Be sweeties and review. Make me smile with your words:)
Sorugao-Bandgeek
Song playing as I update this:
Shotguns speak louder than words Before Their Eyes