Everyone always asks me what I'm afraid of. What wakes me up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I always smile at them, and say something that will make them go away, and make me seem more human. Yet, as I lay here in the dark, arms wrapped around them, I admit my fear. The fear that, should I close my eyes, should I give in to the oblivion that is sleep, I'll wake up to find them gone.

I spend hours like this every night, listening to them breathe. The soft whoosh of air that is Yûgi, and the more defined breathing of Yami. I listen as they find sync, and loose it. My loves, both of them. I've given a part of myself to them. A part I had long ago given up on. A part they found and nurtured back into life.

Yûgi's breathing changes and he snuggles closer to the two of us. I smile as I remember how I was at first. So afraid. Afraid that they wouldn't have me for myself. I'm aware that I'm a cold-hearted bastard. I'm never one to wear my emotions on my sleeve, and my first reaction to any strong emotion is either frost or rage. But somehow they melted the ice and turned the inferno into a campfire. I bury my face in Yami's hair, memorizing the scent incase my nightmare becomes a reality.

I follow my normal nightly routine and begin nit-picking the day. Looking for that one comment, action, or even thought that could force them from me. I know I'm seem insecure, but I'm so afraid. I've always been brutally honest with myself. I know it doesn't seem that way, especially about magic, but somewhere deep down I know it really does exist. Because without it they wouldn't be here.

I know that if they were to leave me, to walk away, or, heaven forbid it, die, I would crumble. My heart has always been like a piece of the finest crystal. Breathe wrong and it will break into thousands of tiny shards. Never would it be whole again. That is something not even Yami's favorite invention duct tape could fix. Somehow, I think both of them know this. The way one of them always seems to be with me at all times, almost holding my hand. A gentle reminder that they're there. That they won't leave me. That I have a place to land when I fall.

So what if am I afraid? Afraid of loosing the ones I love. Loosing a little bit of heaven sent my way. But I'll never show it. Not on my face or in my actions. Only here, late at night, when I refuse to sleep for the thought of something happening to them. Being wrapped in darkness brings it home for me. Reminds me of before they came. The pain. The cold night spent alone. So, I stay awake, listening, wondering, fighting my fear.