Melancholy.


A/N; I remember listening to a certain song while writing this, just can't remember what song it was, though :(
I wrote this sometime back in December and was going through some old files yesterday, and then I coincidentally stumbled across this little thing right here and thought 'hey, why not'. It's yaoi, though quite subtle, I would say. I was in a 'let's write something that probably won't make any sense later on'-mood. It's too short to be called a story, and too long to be a drabble. So it's a... stobble? ...Ahem.
Maybe I'll just stick to going through my old files for now. Enjoy, minions.
Disclaimer; Yes, I own them. They're all mine. Both of them. Forevaaaaaaa...aaa...aa. Yeah... I wish.
"Can you write love?" he whispers and turns his face towards me.

Tanned fingers play with pale hair. Tanned fingers put flowers in my hair.

I grab a red marker and carefully stop his tanned fingers, pulling his hand into mine.

When his amused blue eyes stop on mine, I smile in return.

He has me figured out long before I even make the move.

Yet he doesn't say a word when the sleeve of his arm is rolled up and four big letters are scribbled down across his skin. He only runs his thumb over it and chuckles.

"Can you write love?" he asks again, smiling at me, jabbing the marker back and forth between his fingers. I don't even when it got there.

I squint my eyes at the sun and lift my face up towards the sky.

"I can't," I whisper and brush my hair out of my face as the warm breeze repeatedly whips it back. I know it's pointless, but my fingers keep doing it.

It's automatic. It's human.

He giggles boyishly and my eyes slowly fall back onto him.

His eyes are playful and happy. It's been a long time since I've seen him like this.

I let the wind have its way with my hair, not bothering to hold it back any longer.

His hair is in his face too, whipping across his eyes every now and then.

It adds to the mischievous spark in his eyes already.

"Can you write love?" I ask him.

His smile never falters. It only seems to widen as he appears to know something I don't.

I can't help but smile at him. I can't help but smile with him.

"I can," he nods triumphantly and fingers the lid of the marker.

"How come you can and I can't?" I ask and reach out to brush off a spot of dirt on his cheek. He follows my movement and inhales deeply.

My fingers carefully brush back his hair.

I know he's watching me the whole time. I can feel it.

"Cause I'm infected with it…" he whispers, but keeps smiling.

My hand drops to his shoulder and lingers there.

His hair is in his face again. But it suits him.

It makes him look serene. It makes him look happy.

I smile at him. I really smile at him.

But the smile is no longer on his lips.

Our eyes are no longer locked.

But soon he giggles and tackles me back onto the ground.

Soon silver is mixing with green.

And he is laughing.

"Can you see love?" he asks as he slowly pushes my shirt a bit up over my stomach.

I look down at him and let my hand fall back into his hair.

His smile falters a bit and his eyes seem to change.

But only for a second.

"I can," I smile, for it's true.

"Can you show me?" he asks and writes something across my stomach.

He won't let me see it, and I fail at trying to feel my way to guessing what it says.

I laugh and look down at him again, once again brushing the hair out of his eyes.

And I can't answer. I'm afraid to.

Once he abandons my stomach and the marker, he slowly climbs on top of me.

His brown, tousled tresses hover over us like a curtain, lightly tickling my face as it sways in the wind.

But I don't have to fear anymore.

Because soon he's kissing my neck, soon our fingers are laced.

Soon I can answer, because I know it'll be mutual.