A/N:
I'm not too good at describing Yuki's feelings. I'm a little confused as to whether it's Yuki or Yuuki now but since I started off with Yuki, it seems odd to change halfway through. Thanks for the reviews and keep them coming =)

I tumbled into my apartment literally with a bang. Dragging myself across the floor, I reached my bed, pulled myself up and collapsed onto it. God, I hate my life. I turned to my cabinet, took out the handcuffs and cuffed myself to the bedpost, like I've been doing for almost a year.

I still had her scent lingering on me; the scent that was driving me insane with pain, anger…and hunger. I breathed deeply, trying to clear my mind of all thoughts of her, trying to get her scent off my body. Maybe it was because I just saw her that it was going to be an especially rough night. Maybe it was because I just saw her that my dam got cracked, collapsed and now all the memories are gushing out. Maybe it was because I just saw her that I can feel her now more than ever, her scent here stronger than before.

I closed my eyes tightly, trying to make her go away, for all our memories to disappear. But they didn't, they wouldn't. They say love hurts. That our hearts get broken. If it was just our heart, why does my chest hurt, why does my body ache and tremble, why does my head spin? Since when did emotional pain translate into physical pain? How did the heart gain control of the mind, forcing it to reconsider every possible scenario, forcing it to relive those memories every day and every night, force me to associate all parts of my life with her, force me to think of what could have been when it clearly would never be.

He had crashed into the apartment with an almighty bang, dragged himself to his bed and collapsed onto it. I watched in horror as he cuffed himself to the bedpost. You've never done that before, not even as you struggled with yourself, not even as you were deteriorating further and further. What are you afraid of, baby?

Through the crack in the door, I watched him grip the sides of the bed, jaw clenched, as he breathed heavily, as if he had just been running a marathon, as if he was carrying an incredible burden. I knew him enough to know that he was suffering, hurting, dying from within. So I did something I shouldn't have, I ran to him, held him in my arms and cried softly for the man I have caused to grieve for me.

I was so drunk I could see her, touch her and feel her breath on my skin. But this wouldn't be the first time I've hallucinated of her. She visits me in my dreams, on nights that I'm sober, on nights that I'm raving for blood and on every other night. But every other time, I've only been able to see her. If I tried to go nearer, she seemed to drift away. If I tried to touch her, she vanished completely. If I knew getting drunk would allow me to be held by her, I would have gotten wasted more often.

Her tears were on my face. "Don't cry…" I managed to murmur. She remained silent, just holding my head and stroking my hair, just like she used to. "Why are you crying… Please don't cry…" Tentatively, I reached out for her hands. "Don't go, alright?" I had to make sure that she wouldn't disappear once I touched her back. "Promise, not to disappear like the rest…" She never uttered a word, which confirmed that I was fantasizing, probably from the stress of meeting her for the first time today. I held her hand lightly, afraid if I held too tightly, she would be gone. "You've left me for real; don't leave me in my dreams too, alright? Promise?"

I shouldn't have said that, because she whimpered, kissed my forehead lightly and proceeded to leave.

"No... Please don't… Don't leave..." She was too far off for me to hold on to, too far away for me to hold.

Don't leave me alone, don't leave me again, don't leave me to rot here in this hell alone. I love you. Please don't go.

His every word sent electric jolts through my system. He had been dreaming of me. He hadn't wanted me to disappear like the rest of his dreams of me. He had been lonely, so terribly lonely. In the meeting, I thought him being nonchalant meant he was fine and that eased my guilt just a little. But now, I knew better, he was suffering in silence, suffering through cold lonely nights, suffering through his hunger alone. And it was my entire fault for that. If only I hadn't entered his life, we both would have continued living like we had before, neither grieving for the other, neither shedding tears for what could have been for we would never have known this possibility to exist.

Again, against my better judgment, I kissed his forehead, savoring his warm cinnamon taste on my lips for the last time. I placed his head on the pillow and tucked him in. His hand held my arm, pleading with me not to go. But I have to, Zero. Don't let me hurt you further. Don't let me give you false hope by staying. Because come morning, I would need to leave you and we'll hurt even more because there'll be another minute to relive over and over again. Let tonight remain a figment of your imagination. Don't let me exist in your real life anymore.

I stared at Zero one last time before I opened the door. His handsome features were marred by that expression again. Turn away now, Yuki. Turn away or you'll run back to him again, turn away now or there'll be no turning back. My better judgment reigned this time. I'll leave and never come back. Because I love you and you'll be better off without me.

I closed the door behind me and I heard a stifled cry, full of sorrow, hurt, and every other indescribable emotion associated to lost love, anger, betrayal and fate that just wouldn't permit us to be together. I leaned against the door, tasting his presence in the air one last time.

"I thought you would come but I didn't expect Kaname to let you."
"He didn't. I told him I was going to visit Yori."
"If you want to talk, we can go for coffee."

I pondered, knowing that the topic would be Zero, whether I would be better off not knowing. But there was so much I wanted to know. All those nights I've spent wondering if he's fed, wondering if he's doing his own laundry now, wondering if his apartment is clean or had he let the furniture be covered in 10 inches of dust, wondering if he's overworking, wondering if he was healthy, wondering if he was wondering about me too. How could I go without knowing?

I nodded and let Chairman lead the way, throwing one last longing glance at Zero's door.

A/N
Tell me what you think, please?