This is why…
Fandom: Gravitation
Genre: Romance/Tragedy
Rating: R
This is a sequel to a story I have yet to write…
It was a normal day. Well, as normal as any of my days could be, which wasn't exactly saying much. I woke up earlier than usual, my hand over my lover's bare chest, my head nested in the crook of his neck. I kissed the skin tenderly, stirring him awake.
"Shuichi…?" He looked at me, a dazed look in his eyes, and forced a smile upon his weary face. "What time is it?"
I merely glanced at the clock. "It's four."
His cloudy brown eyes widened; a trace of sleep around them still. "We over-slept...!"
I wanted to smile at his alarmed question, but I couldn't. I couldn't feel anything except remorse after that dream… "No, it's four in the morning."
His eyes were then filled with concern. He knew me better than anyone else. I had never gotten up so early, unless there was a problem. "Shuichi…what's wrong? Are you still thinking about Yu—"
I cut Hiroshi off with my lips, not wanting to hear his name. I scooted on top of him drowning my sorrows in Hiroshi's essence, his very being. I'm supposed to be happy with him, right…? I am happy with him…right?
Hiroshi kissed my neck tenderly, which would normal make me gasp and writhe in pleasure, but I couldn't. I couldn't do it, so I forced a moan. Either he couldn't tell, or he was trying to ignore it, because his kisses and nibbles became wilder, more urgent.
His hands danced a long my body, and I gave off involuntary shivers, possibly because I was cold, but I was in no mind-set to judge either reaction. He hastily switched positions with me, kissing, nibbling, nuzzling, licking and sucking every inch of my body. My body loved it, loved him, for all it was worth, but my soul was separated.
Three hours. We made love for three hours, taking small breaks in-between to whisper in each other's ears, kiss with passion and not lust and such; except Hiroshi was the one that did those things. I only reacted.
Now, though, Hiroshi was in the shower. I sat on the bed, staring at the necklace that lay innocently on the small night stand next to the bed. It glowed with a gold brilliance, the heart seaming to shine brighter than ever, and the wings looked more alive. It was a definite contrast to how I was feeling.
It was strange, though, I realized with not much emotion portrayed on my face. Normally, when making love to Hiroshi, I would tell him how much I loved him, and enjoy everything he would do to me…but, this time I felt nothing….then, the reason came to me as if a train had crashed into my body. It was that dream…
Black. That was all that surrounded me. I looked around, searching for even a glimpse of light or anything. There was nothing. I ran, and ran, hearing my heart pound in my ears. I tripped, after I ran for years, it seemed. I stared at what had to be the floor and cried…when, suddenly, a light started my way. I looked up first seeing his brilliant gold eyes smiling at me. His blonde hair was in a messy tangle, as if he just got out of bed. Then, I noticed his wings…his beautiful wings…
"Get up. You're looking more pathetic than usual."
I stood and started towards him, but he countered, taking a step back. "No. You have Nakano now."
"But I—"
"Shuichi, I'm glad you've finally found happiness. I told you you didn't need me…"
"But, I do, Yuki! I love y—"
"Shuichi," he began his voice colder than ever. "You're with Hiroshi now…"
"For now, my heart may belong to him, but my soul…belongs to you, Yuki."
"Don't say such things, Shuichi. I want you to be happy."
"I want to be with y—"
"Shuichi! I'm gone now…just move on…there's nothing you can do…" He began to take steps backward, staring at me intently. I knew he loved me, I could see it in his eyes, but I didn't want him to leave me again…
"Yuki, please don't go again" I said, almost as a sob.
The love in his eyes grew with each step he took backward, and when the light was almost gone, I could hear him say, in a whisper, "I love you," as if he were right next to me.
I didn't realize I had relived the whole dream again until the pain in my wrists was too much. I had completely blanked out. I wondered what the pain was, and as soon as I looked down at the source, my stomach lurched. My eyes were blurred from the tears I had apparently been crying, but I could see it nonetheless. Blood covered my whole arm, not leaving a trace of skin visible. I dropped the knife in my right hand, confused as to where I had gotten it. I was being torn up inside and out, as if the accident hadn't happened a year ago, but today.
I heard the shower door slam; Hiroshi was coming out. I panicked and threw on some pants and a wrinkled shirt and ran out the door, a trail of blood dripping behind me. I couldn't bear to face him. I felt ashamed—disgusted—with myself, for lying to him, for cutting myself. The image of my torn up skin popped in my head and I paused at some bushes, trying to puke the image out, trying to convince myself this was a dream; trying to puke out my sins.