Until the day I die,
I'll spill my heart for you, for you.
Until the day I die,
I'll spill my heart for you…
As years go by
I race the clock with you,
But if you die right now
You know that I'd die too…
I'd die too.
It was a lovely little game that they played.
He would be charming, as always he was. He would make a great show of seducing her, pushing her away simultaneously, showing her he cared for her…
That was the tragedy of it.
Tell me why this hurts so much…
She behaved as if flustered, blushing furiously, the quickening of her heartbeat, and the increased tempo of her breathing… Sweet, almost charming in an innocent way… In no way a foolish little village girl, but a strong, vivacious warrior.
Trained in the way of war, and not of love. Pure but for the blood on her hands, and the crippling sorrow she had experienced in her short sixteen years of life. She tried her hardest to bundle it inside, failing dismally.
He wore a mask.
He, the rogue monk, the womanizer… troublemaker, lecher… Humble and cocky, desirable and unappealing. No woman wanted a man without a future, but it was the risk that made them crave him so. The village girls, but not Her.
She was infinitely more complex; a puzzle he wanted so badly to solve- a shell he needed to crack.
Oh, she loved him; yes… there was no use in trying to hide it. So why, then, did she push him away so violently? Was it because she knew he would die? Or, perhaps, because she had her honor, and a brother to think of?
My hands are at your throat
And I think I hate you…
He could never provide for her… the fact of the matter was, that he could not even guarantee being alive long enough to marry her. Who wanted that? A relationship, deep and meaningful, but gone in an instant, leaving behind a void of sorrow and loss.
And what if he got her pregnant? Could the powerful, heiress of an entire legacy of respectable warriors, put down her sword and become a mother?
A mother without a husband… without a family… entirely alone, but for the child with his father's eyes.
It would tear her apart, and they both knew it.
We made the same mistakes,
Mistakes like friends do…
So they kept their distance, emotionally; and they stole occasional glances at one another.
Above all, they did not wish to be another Inu-Yasha and Kikyou.
Until the day I die… Until the day I die…
"Until the Day I Die" – by Story of the Year. From the first day I heard it, I knew I had to write a fanfiction at least mentioning it. It is completely Mir/San. Bleh… Now I need to go out and get the CD… Xx