A.N// another story, yeah, it's because my last story is now on a writer's block (oh and it has changed name too, fides quae creditor, look for it ) so on with this one-shot. It takes place with a depressed Robin outside the titan's tower and of course the story is in his point of view. Read and enjoy.

Loss.

The sheets of paper felt so rusty under my hands. Maybe it was because they were drained of all emotion. Maybe it was me whose happiness had been drained. Or maybe it was the empty life I've had no thanks to that particularly curious emotion called love.

I cannot put in spoken words what I feel, that has always been my problem, a problem that has leaded me to these state. A state of emptiness, of despair… she has left me, and she will not return. But I cannot voice my thoughts. So sitting here in a cold rock (cold as her heart), looking at the pale moon (pale as her porcelain skin), listening to the soothing and quiet ocean (just as her voice) and feeling the serene and calm night ( just as her essence), I open one of her favorite poem books and start to imagine, to feel. Curiously I open the book in a poem called "poem no. 20" I remember her telling me this was one of her favorites but I had never the time to read it. Well, let's make this night easier, I told myself. So I started to read aloud and the lines full of emotion caught me as her hypnotizing eyes did.

"I can write the saddest lines tonight." The first verse was already so beautiful. "Write for example: 'The night is full of stars, and they shiver in the distance. The night wind turns in the sky and sings." Just as tonight.

"I can write the saddest lines tonight. I loved her, and sometimes, she loved me too." Just as life. "On nights like these I held her in my arms. I kissed her passionately under the infinite sky". The poem started to fill my mind with so many memories of her and me on nights like these one. "She loved me, and sometimes, I loved her too. How could I have not loved her huge, still eyes?" I felt my throat thicken as I continued to read.

"I can write the saddest lines tonight. To think I don't have her, to feel I have lost her." The poem was so beautiful, so full of life and human emotion, just like her. "Hear the vast night, even vaster without her. Lines fall on the soul like dew falls on the grass." Lines fall on my soul, oh! they really do.

"What does it matter that I couldn't keep her?.. The night is fractured and she is not with me." She is not with me… she will never be again with me… "That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off, my soul is not content to have lost her". I had to struggle and control my emotions to prevent tears from flowing. "As though to reach her, my sight looks for her. My heart looks for her: she is not with me" it happens to me every day, I imagine she is with me and I try to reach out for her, but she is never there.

"The same night whitens, in the same branches. We, from that time, we are not the same. I don't love her, that's certain, but how I loved her." Maybe that's true, maybe that's how life is (and she has really proved me that's how life is). "My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her. She will belong to someone else's kisses, like she belong to mine." And now I did not try to pretend I was not feeling anything, soon tears started forming on my eyes. "Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes". I wipe my tears as I remember her, lying at my side on the bed, hugging me, saying she loved me, saying she would never leave me. Of course, those were all lies.

"I don't love her, that's certain, but perhaps I love her. Love is brief but forgetting lasts so long". Oh! Love can be as brief as the blink of an eye, and forgetting lasts forever, forgetting her has been impossible, experience has taught me that. "Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms, my soul is not content to have lost her". It was hard to read now because of the stained letters my tears had caused. But even so I dared to continue reading "Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer, and these are the last lines I will write for her"…

It was hard for me to recognize she will never be with me again, that I would never hold her again, but she was just a memory now, a free bird soaring on the infinite sky.

A.N// so???? Was it horrible, or did was it just acceptable for being my first story using a poem??? I really want your reviews guys, so please leave me your comments on a level deeper that "hey, that was cute, update soon" you can really help me.

Oh, and the poem was "poema no. 20" from Pablo Neruda (who does not recognize it?) one of the best poets in history (my opinion of course).