a/n: so, I sort of went back and looked at some of my old writing from when I first started posting back in 2011 and as embarrassing it is for any writer/artist/creator to look back where they started, it's also very encouraging. I've improved so much like, writing the last couple of chapters I've posted, I felt like some kind of poet. And I fucking hate poetry, but I'll be damned if studying poetry didn't improve my writing vastly.

no one tell my English teacher I just admitted that. she doesn't need the ego boost.

ANYWAY prepare for EMOTIONS(tm)


chapter summary: Amantium irae amoris integratio est- the quarrels of lovers are the renewal of love. (Terence- Andria III 6, 556)


Click.

The door separating the shared bedroom from the hallway- and freedom- sounded off as its tumblers were set; locked. Ryou stood on the side from where the door had been locked, while the trapped victims, Marik and Bakura, were dumbstruck.

They had managed to avoid eye contact the entire day, even at home. Marik sat down on the small trundle-bed that had since became his bed, and immediately busied himself with homework. Never mind the fact that he'd already finished his homework, and he was just doodling and retracing his answers. Bakura sat at the desk of his side of the room, opposite from Marik, and busied himself with his phone. His own homework was long forgotten and blank.

Ryou had been also doing his homework at his desk, but once he finished, he set his plan into motion. Neither of the other two in the room noticed when Ryou got up and left the room. They did notice when he shut and locked the door on them.

"Ryou, what the hell?" Bakura shot up and tried to turn the knob, but was met with resistance.

"You will be let out when you guys talk." Ryou said defiantly. He was honestly a little bit surprised it had worked- at least so far.

"Fuck you." Bakura's insult barely sounded through the door.

Marik couldn't hold back a cynical laugh, "This is the most fucked up game of seven minutes in heaven ever." Bakura snorted, and flopped down on his bed, crossed his legs and faced away from Marik. Marik came to the realization that the ball was in his court; he'd been wanting to apologize, but his pride combined with Bakura's stubbornness left no room for apologies.

He tried to pull together the words, but he couldn't seem to string sentences together. In the corner of his mind, he could hear his own voice telling him he had nothing to apologize for.

You're being ridiculous. You don't need him. You don't need to apologize. Marik grappled these words, wrestled down the thoughts. He shoved his pride down his throat and tried to get over his own resistance.

"I'msorry." He squeezed it out as quickly as he could, before he could take it back. It reminded him of the one time in his language studies class, they'd messed around with a speech jammer. If you spoke quick enough, and loud enough, you could get through it without stuttering or butchered the words. Of course, after having their fun, the teacher had droned on and on about the science behind it and linguistic technicalities.

Bakura's gaze shot up to him. For a few moments, his gaze was completely unreadable. It looked like he was trying to figure out by looking at Marik if he was being honest or not. Or maybe, Marik had spoken too quickly, and he wasn't able to make out what he'd said. The thought of having to repeat himself made Marik want to puke. Everything in his mind was screaming; he could almost feel his pride crawling back up his throat, dejected and even angrier than before.

"S'alright." Bakura mumbled. Quiet, but not rushed. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting, "I just... you I care, right?" Bakura looked at Marik with a very serious expression. Marik's brows furrowed. Thinking about it, no, he didn't know that. Bakura had always carried an air of indifference everywhere, and Marik was already scared that no one cared for him, even Ryou, who was more than affectionate and motherly. "Don't answer that, I guess." Bakura turned away again. "I just figured... you trusted me..." His voice twinged upwards slightly, as if it was a question, "I don't want you to push me away." The last sentence was practically nothing. A breath, if one wasn't listening they could easily mistake it for a sigh, not a sentence. But Marik was listening, and even though Bakura wasn't looking at him, his eyes were locked on Bakura. Marik had to reply the sound back to himself a few times, and try to match words with lip-reading before he understood.

He opened his mouth to respond, but he had no idea what to say. He didn't intentionally push Bakura away, so how was he supposed to fix it?

Don't bother. Not worth it. The thought, whilst tempting, was still wrong. And Marik knew that. But he couldn't come up with a response. If this were some kind of formal debate, this would be his cue to give his rebuttal. But his mind came up blank, and he could feel himself losing this debate.

"I..." Marik started, feeling that damned pride crawling around in his chest, constricting his lungs and making it hard to speak without choking. "I don't want to push you away." He could feel Bakura's eyes on him, but he wasn't looking. He rubbed his face with his hands, battling with his words. "It's gonna take me awhile 'fore I can explain... what's wrong, I guess." He shrugged, trying to force a slight laugh to reduce tension. "Long story short: I'm a fucking mess. And I'm sorry."

In all of its ridiculousness, he found himself laughing. Maybe at himself, maybe at the situation, but nonetheless. Bakura looked at him like he was crazy, and maybe he was, but eventually the laughter reached him to, and they were both laughing.

Two stupid fools, laughing in a scenario where no sane person would laugh. But maybe that's why they got along so well. Maybe they were two nut jobs in a sea of normal people who were able to find each other, and enjoy a laugh.

Ryou sat with a book, leaning against the wall next to the door he'd locked a good while ago. He couldn't really hear anything, so he wasn't sure if those idiots had gotten over themselves and talked. But before he heard words, he heard laughter.

They were insane, Ryou knew this for sure, but at least they were insane together.