A/N: This is a very, very old drabble I did when practising writing in English. It's not called drabble for nothing, because it's very, very short, but in the end I was pretty satisfied with it. It's officially my first 'fanfiction' ever written, so I felt like it needed to be on here. Please enjoy! :Meresta
Summery: Ritsuka takes a moment to think. Very slight SoubixRitsuka.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Suggesting a malexmale pairing, slight spoilers for the start of the anime.
Disclaimer: I do not own Loveless.
432 words
Time had passed way too fast again, ticking in an annoying rhythm I couldn't keep up with. With an eyebrow raised in faked surprise, I stared at the small digital alarm clock on my desk. Stupid thing does that to me all the time. With a sigh I lent back in my chair, enjoying the feel of support in my back. My teacher always tells me to sit up straight while I'm studying, but my posture is messed up anyway so I don't really bother. I stared up at the ceiling, noticing that it has gotten a little closer to me again. I really need to stop growing soon, or else there won't be any clothes left for me to wear. Asking my mother to buy me new clothes has always been difficult. She refuses to believe that I'm growing taller, and when she does go out shopping, she always picks things one size too small. Up until now I have still been able to wear them, but if this keeps up, I won't be for much longer. My therapist says it's my mothers way of keeping me small, like the Ritsuka she used to know.
I let myself fall back in my chair and turned towards the small mirror, silently hanging on the left wall. I wasn't surprised by how tired I looked. Last night, me and Soubi texted until three in the morning. My attempts at getting answers failed miserably, but I liked the way the small butterfly on my phone lit up every time I got a message.
I gazed at the mirror, as if I was looking for the answers Soubi wouldn't give me. Unfortunately, my eyes weren't in a very helpful mood either. I moved a bit closer and took a better look at myself.
Sometimes I wonder who I'm looking at. I refuse to believe that my true name is Loveless, because I don't like that name. It's empty. Empty in a painfully notable way. You can't see or touch it, but you know it's there, or more precisely, that it's not.
Ritsuka is my given name, and I don't mind. It's just what they named me, nothing I can do about it, or would want to do about it. I'm just Ritsuka. I always have been Ritsuka, and I always will be Ritsuka. My name won't change, not even when everything else does.
I tilted my head to the right, locks of black hair spilled from behind my ears. Trough the eyes of my reflection, my mirror looked at me. We shared an awkward silence.
It's an old drabble, but reviews are still very welcome!