OUR HEARTS GO OUT TO:
Alatarielf: AWWWEEEEE. Thanks so much! We are trying our bestest, so thank you for all the encouragements, they help a lot~~! We hope your heart is okay... That makes us feel bad because too many hearts are damaged in this story already...
fujiyuki: The ankle's fine :) No, fujiyuki's heart, don't give up! You can do it~~~~ Here's the next chapter, so we hope you enjoy :)
lemon-and-chai: Aw... But we don't think you're terrible~~ And even if you are, then we're terrible, too, because we made this in the first place, so we can be terrible together~~ And yes, torn ligaments are not fun.
CranberryChocolate: Um. We're sorry?
animangadeek0624: We don't think you're a bad reader ^^ YES. Tezu-chan and Syu-chan are idiots... But we love their idiot-ness, lol. And... well, we hope you like this chapter anyway... :)
moribayashi: Thank you, thank you! BUT... We can't tell you anything without giving anything away so... We're sorry! Um. Well, it might be safe to say that the things that happened were not Yuuta's intention... But we'll just let you see for yourself, ne? :)
zAza. eL. mikA: We're glad your laptop's fine :) And don't worry, you'll gradually know~ :) We like people having speculations~ We do it all the time~ Weeee~ And we like squealing and fangirling so let's squeal and fangirl togethaaaa~
:)
Clary: ... I don't think I have anything to say except that I hope (PLEASE GOD) that you guys enjoy this chapter...
Yuuta left the house in a huff, the door slamming in his wake. Tezuka traced the same footsteps in a sort of daze, locking the door, and checking once again just in case. Then, he leaned against the hard wood, looked around the house, and tried to imagine his life without Syusuke.
How was he going to do it?
Everywhere he looked (in his own house!), he could see Syusuke.
He could see Syusuke in that couch in the living room, where one night when they were in second year, Syusuke's head fell on his shoulder because he had been too exhausted to stay awake studying. Tezuka had wrapped an arm around the svelte waist, and told himself that he was just doing it so they could both be comfortable, knowing it wasn't quite true because his heart had been beating wildly in his chest.
He could see Syusuke in the counter in the kitchen where Syusuke liked to sit and 'help' him wash the dishes, by becoming his 'added incentive.' A kiss for every cleaned dish.
He could see Syusuke on the stairs where he'd first looked up to the landing to find Syusuke posing and modelling Tezuka's own clothes. They were too big for him, but the fact that the shirt had fallen off of one shoulder to reveal a tantalizing view of smooth, creamy skin made Tezuka decide that he liked seeing Syusuke parading around in his clothes.
He could see Syusuke in the entrance hallway, in the dining room, in the cupboards, he could even see Syusuke in the damned coat rack.
Syusuke was everywhere.
In every corner of every room of every floor of this house, Syusuke was there.
Tezuka couldn't live without him, he just couldn't.
He couldn't.
So he went through the motions of his everyday life in the same thoughtless daze that he had been in ever since Fuji Yuuta had told him that he was the reason why Syusuke wanted to die.
And he found himself wandering the streets, stopping by a familiar house, walking up to the familiar doorstep, ringing the familiar bell. When Syusuke opened the door, Tezuka grabbed him and crushed him to his chest.
You can't die, he thought so strongly, he was sure Syusuke could hear it. You can't.
"Kunimitsu?" Syusuke questioned, his voice muffled against the clothing of Tezuka's chest.
Tezuka's entire being screamed, I don't want you to die, but he merely tightened his hold, and murmured an "I love you," to Syusuke's hair. He could smell the scents Syusuke wore almost as perfumes, a hint of vanilla and apple and something else he couldn't quite describe, but was so very familiar, and so very Syusuke.
He imagined how he could spend the rest of his life without them, and knew that he wouldn't be able to.
"Me too," Syusuke nuzzled his head against him, almost-purring, and content as a kitten. "Ne, Kunimitsu, no one's home. Wanna take this inside?"
Tezuka let go, and gave him a soft peck on the forehead, starting to smile as he was dragged quickly inside, the door closing behind them both...
...only to have the smile freeze on his face once he was met with the scene inside the house.
The Fuji house had always been warm. Lonely at times, but always warm. Perhaps it was Fuji-san's motherly aura that hung protectively around the home she had built with her husband, or Yumiko-san's teasing presence, or maybe even the complicated love-hate complex between the two brothers of the house. It could be a lot of things, but whatever it was, the warmth was a comforting, constant atmosphere that made the house a home.
But today, the entire house felt cold, almost stifling in its stillness.
Moving boxes were piled neatly at the sides, and it did not seem at all like the Fuji house Tezuka knew anymore. It was as if someone had erased away all the colors of a particularly bright painting until nothing but blankness was left behind.
"Syusuke...?"
But Syusuke only smiled up at him, completely calm, unbaffled and carefully fake. "Oh, don't mind those. They're nothing."
They didn't look like nothing. "You're moving," he said flatly, the words even more bitter on his tongue than they were, when they had been merely thoughts. Yuuta had said something about that, hadn't he?
He had, Tezuka had been just too winded by the fact that he was killing Syusuke to really take that in.
"They're moving," Syusuke corrected, his hand tight around Tezuka's arm as he led him up to his room. "I'm staying." A teasing smile lit up his face, a grotesque contrast to the despairing atmosphere that cloyed the very air in the house.
"Say, if I can't find an apartment," Syusuke asked, looking thoughtful. "You'll let me sleep with you, riiiight?" He drawled out the last word for extra teasing emphasis and despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach, Tezuka couldn't suppress the flush that spread across his cheeks.
"Syusuke," he said warningly, letting his little lover pull him into the room.
"Hmm?" Syusuke hummed, still smiling. "You have to admit it was a legitimate question." He gave a mock-innocent gasp. "Or do you mean to say that you'll let poor, little me out in the open for perverts to see?" Syusuke hugged his arms around himself, and pouted, looking both adorable and sexy at exactly the same time.
Tezuka's face twitched and he sighed. "You're the pervert, Syusuke," he informed him. "They should be afraid of you."
Syusuke answered with a laugh. "Ah, but you know me so well," he sang happily, as he bounced towards his bed, patting the spot beside him invitingly.
...This was probably the only room in the whole house that had remained as it had been the last time Tezuka had seen it. There were boxes piled near the door, but they were open and empty, though they were obviously meant to hold the belongings in this room.
("You and I both know he's not gonna leave.")
This time, Tezuka couldn't quite hide away from the twinge in his heart.
Syusuke noticed his glance, and his smile let up for just one moment, so Tezuka could see exactly how unsettled he really was about everything (and exactly how scared). Tezuka wanted to sooth it all away, to wrap his arms around him and protect him from everything that could bring him harm, to love him, and make everything okay because of the sheer force of that love.
Even in his head, it sounded so, so stupid.
And besides...
("...He's going to die because he loves you...!")
And his whole body froze on the act of trying to reach out, and the entire moment ended. Syusuke was smiling once again, and it wasn't strained or forced, but it wasn't particularly happy either.
"Come on, Kunimitsu," he urged, patting the spot once again. "I'm watching a movie, see?"
It was only then that Tezuka noticed the TV screen, paused on an image of a sinking ship. He remembered that movie, perhaps he had even seen it in passing once or twice, but that was it.
All he really knew was that the male lead dies.
Tezuka sat beside Syusuke, robotically, and stiffly watched as the last few scenes of the movie played on. In his head, it was Syusuke who was falling, Syusuke who was dying, Syusuke who fell and died, Syusuke who... who...
"I don't want you to die," he blurted out, feeling Syusuke tense as the intense blue gaze pinned him where he sat.
"What are you talking about, Kunimitsu?"
Tezuka didn't know. Tezuka really didn't know anymore. A few hours ago, everything was still normal, and as fine as it could ever be, and then things happened, and Tezuka was made aware of more things and they were starting to tear at him from the inside-out.
Tezuka was talking about Syusuke and things he already knew but wanted to hear out of Syusuke's own mouth anyway, and "He's going to throw away his own life for you!"
But none of the words made it past the lump on his throat. He glanced at the screen, and gestured towards the old lady, paused in the act of telling her story to the people who sat before her in rapture.
"I wouldn't want you to die, either," he said, meeting Syusuke's eyes, watching them take on that soft look that suited him so much.
"Ne, Kunimitsu, if I would have to make a choice in a situation like that," his hand pressed up on the place above Tezuka's heart. "I would stay."
He was telling Tezuka what Tezuka had known all along, what Yuuta came to yell at him about, what his choice had been, and will always be. Because he loved. And Tezuka wanted to smile and draw Syusuke into his arms, but his heart, and everything else ached too much.
"You would die," he said, his entire being rejecting the words, screaming, 'No!' because a world without Syusuke was no world at all.
Syusuke's smile was soft, but because Tezuka knew, it was more resigned than anything else. "I know."
"Syusuke-"
Syusuke cut him off before he could start, his fingers caressing, his face firm with a decisive stubborness that Tezuka had once loved about him. "There is more to life than not dying."
His hand fell away, landing on Tezuka's lap. When Tezuka sought for them, Syusuke did not meet his eyes, his gaze strangely far-away. Tezuka, for the first time in a long time, did not know what he was thinking, and did not know what to think, himself.
"There is happiness, and tenderness, and love," Syusuke's head fell against Tezuka's arm. "There is love," he repeated. "And I am not going to miss any of those things just because I am afraid of death."
("...He's going to die because he loves you...!")
No more Syusuke. The world will have no more Syusuke, because Syusuke is choosing to destroy himself because of his love.
Syusuke was going to die.
And he was going to die because he loved Tezuka.
("I've always known that you'd be the death of him.")
"Syusu-"
"And if," Syusuke continued, still with the same firm and resolute, but resigned kind of voice. "And if I had done nothing else that would make my life matter then at least..." He raised his head then, meeting Tezuka's eyes, his hand coming up to cup Tezuka's cheek.
"At least I have you, Kunimitsu," he said, his voice full of love. His smile was gentle and content. "If I had done nothing else that would make my life matter, then at least I have loved you with every breath of my life."
The tears burned, because it was all Tezuka wanted to do was cry. Syusuke didn't know, he didn't know how much it hurt to hear him say those words, how much it hurt to sit here and take it, how much it hurt that Syusuke was telling him how Syusuke knew that his love for Tezuka would kill him, but that he was choosing it, anyway.
He shouldn't. He shouldn't.
"Saa," Syusuke said, his smile morphing to teasing once again. "But we'd have to get married first, okay? I won't forgive you if I won't get my chance to be a blushing bride, so you better have a ring ready!"
He leaned closer, his eyes wide, blue, and so painfully beautiful. "Say Mitsu, don't you think I'd look good as your wife?"
Tezuka wanted, so damn badly, to say yes. But the price Syusuke would have to pay for it... The price Syusuke would have to pay to be able to become that was his own life.
It was a price Tezuka did not want Syusuke to pay.
He leaned forwards, closing the distance between them, capturing Syusuke's lips in a fierce, brutal kiss. His arms shot up to wrap around his beloved's body, his entire being tingling at the warmth that being with Syusuke like this made him feel.
Just one more, one last time. Tezuka was going to make these precious moments last him a lifetime. He was going to make it count, he was going to make it the best memory ever. He was going to drink in every moan, and he was going to burn the image of Syusuke's face filled with pleasure and love into the back of his mind so it would last until forever.
Because after this moment, Syusuke would be gone.
Syusuke would be gone, because Tezuka's love was going to kill him.
THE MELODY OF TWO HEARTS
Verse 08
Or am I dreaming?
Fuji ran. He didn't know where, but it was something to do. The rain was still falling, the sky roaring above his head, and it must have been cold.
Must have been, because the only thing he could really feel was nothing.
After all, that was what happened when you freeze. The cold will spread, slowly, painfully, creeping its way past every defense your body might have erected until its cloying caress moves up to the core of your very being.
You would be cold for a while, but only for a while, because soon, the cold will rob you even of feeling. Then you'd be numb.
And all you'd ever be left with is emptiness.
Not that Fuji ever had anything else. It was all he'd ever had, all he'd ever lived with, and it was all he'd ever get.
Nothing.
And he didn't understand why some strange part of him wanted to believe otherwise. Why that part was so fixated on the lie that Tezuka would come back, that Tezuka would run after him, that Tezuka could find it in his heart to love him. It was irrational and awful and so very untrue.
And it hurt. It hurt so much to believe in the happiness that could never be and the love that could never be reciprocated. The dream was too sweet, too happy that the happiness became a sort of pain, and it only hurt even more when he snapped back to reality, and realized that it was all nothing but a combination of an overactive imagination and wishful thinking.
Sometimes, when Fuji dreamt, he would feel his broken heart start to piece itself back together, and he would start to feel some of the warmth he had thought he lost forever creeping back, freeing his locked bones, his weary muscles, his pained heart.
Perhaps, in his sleep, dreaming of things he dared not wish for when he had control over his thought processes, he had found the strength to smile for real once again. He knew he had never done it, ever since Tezuka had told him the truth, ever since they had broken up, because he had never found a reason to. A smile like that would have felt foreign in his coherent state, mostly because he had never quite managed to relearn how to.
It felt so much less painful to pretend. Pretend for Yuuta, pretend for Milly, pretend for the rest of the student council, pretend for the rest of the school, pretend for the rest of the whole world.
And pretend for himself. Because no matter what he did, there was nothing that quelled the pain more than him telling himself that he was happy. He wasn't, but when he thought of it enough, he knew his brain had that sufficient power to influence his body in thinking exactly that.
He had thought that perhaps someday, his brain would be powerful enough that even it could believe its own lie as the truth.
But he still dreamed, and he still woke up, to tears in his eyes, and he would curl in around himself and wish he was more powerful.
Maybe then, he wouldn't be crying, maybe then he wouldn't be destroying himself over wishes and dreams that would never come true, maybe then he would be happy.
(Maybe then, Tezuka wouldn't have left him, would have found it in his heart to love him, in the first place.)
And sometimes, when Fuji can't sleep, he would roll on his side and think about where Tezuka was. He wouldn't look up to the sky, but he knew, somewhere in the world, Tezuka was under a different patch of the same sky. They would not see the same stars, and they probably never ever will.
And he would think about how a nameless woman would be standing beside Tezuka under that patch of the sky Fuji could never (didn't have the right to) see.
She'd be really pretty, of course, heartbreakingly beautiful, enough to match Tezuka's godlike features. She'd know all about tennis, because that was an essential part of Tezuka's life, and it will probably always will be, even after his arm would give up on him. She'd accompany him to his matches, and she'd be the very first person to congratulate him on his wins (she wouldn't have to think of what to do when Tezuka lost, because Tezuka would always win). And when Tezuka's arm finally had enough, she would be the one to comfort him, and stay with him, and hold him, and be with him as he suffered through the pain of giving up the one thing he had loved most.
And then slowly, but surely, she would start to fill the void it had left in Tezuka's heart.
Tezuka would take her out on dates, and buy her flowers, and take her home to meet his parents. They'd like her very much, because she was mild-mannered and respectable and every bit the wife they had imagined their son to have. They wouldn't speak of Fuji, because Fuji, they would realize, had just been a phase, and even though they had been accepting of that phase, they never really wanted their son to ruin the rest of his life by being with... with Fuji.
And then, Tezuka would wake up one day and realize that she was the reason he still smiled, and that he couldn't last another day without her. Then, he would buy the most expensive ring he could find for her, and he would go down on one knee, tell her he loved her, and ask her to marry him.
And they would be brilliant together.
She would be gentle where Tezuka was fierce, passionate where Tezuka couldn't care less, and she'd be cheerfully outgoing, smiling where Tezuka scowled. People will whisper how perfect they were for each other, how she and Tezuka matched, like two perfect puzzle pieces, and how they were going to make the best sort of family in the best sort of society in the best part of town.
And now that he thought about it, she wouldn't be a nameless woman.
She'd be a Tezuka.
A part of him, a very small part, but a part, nonetheless, had thought that he'd get a kick out of it, if Tezuka invited him to a wedding or a baby shower to stand in as the best man, or the godfather.
The bigger part of him had been too busy drowning in pain to think anything.
He was drowning now, in pain once again, but not with the despair that had once consumed his soul. Now it was the hope that killed him. He had never thought it possible before, but the hope was killing him in ways the despair never could.
It was for that very reason Fuji had pulled away, had run away from the kiss that had made him feel warm and treasured and loved once again.
He didn't want to have hope. Because he knew, for a very long time now, he knew...
He was never loved.
./.
Milly sighed, kicking her heels off angrily, because she was frustrated and it was the nearest thing she could vent her frustration on. She contemplated throwing her phone, but it had been Rivalz's gift and it was really pretty and completely her style and it was Rivalz's gift and only heaven knew how happy he had been when she enthusiastically thanked him for it.
Her hand tightened around the phone.
After about two dozen missed calls, she'd stormed out of the venue and returned to the hotel in a last-ditch attempt of let Syusuke be there, damn it. It wasn't that she didn't believe he couldn't take care of himself.
It wasn't that she didn't trust him.
It was just that she didn't trust Tezuka-san and the rest of this whole damn country with Syusuke.
Who would, after all? Syusuke had been hurting from the very first moment they had gotten in here.
On hindsight, she was the one who had forced Japan on him, but she had thought she was getting him to find the closure he looked like he had never gotten.
Milly wasn't a fool, after all. There had to be a reason why Syusuke was never open about his past, why his eyes clouded over at the slightest bit of mention of Asia, why Yuuta was always so careful with him about before.
There was something there that haunted Syusuke, and it will continue to haunt him still, unless he got the something he looked like he was still lacking.
Milly hadn't wanted to get married until that happened. Milly hadn't wanted to get married, because Syusuke played a huge part in her happiness, the way he always will, and Milly wasn't going to be selfish and be happy while he spent the rest of his life with sad, miserable eyes.
She fingered her ring, remembering lunch time in the office when Syusuke approached her and asked devious, psuedo-romantic-slash-teasing questions.
One of them had been, "Ne, Milly, what's your dream engagement proposal?"
She'd teased him tremendously, but once he bore through the worst of it, and seemed as if he wanted her to take him seriously, she'd let a slow smile spread across her face, and said, winking, "If you proposed, we'll have no problem." And she'd waved him out of her office with a smile (and another conspiratorial wink of challenge). "Just a ring from Tiffany's would do."
And on the night of her birthday, he took out the promised Tiffany ring and winked (conspiratorially) back.
She didn't remember feeling any happier in all of her life.
She'd wanted Syusuke to be just as happy, too. But perhaps... perhaps she'd made a mistake she could never undo. Maybe it would have been better if he hadn't ever gone back to Japan. Maybe, if he didn't meet Tezuka-san once again, there would be one day when just Milly, or Milly and the others back in the States would be enough to finally coax him out of his shell and make him smile for real.
She looked at her phone, but before she could dial Syusuke's number once again, the door to her room burst open and slammed close, and Syusuke was there, dripping wet, eyes covered by his hair, much like he had been the night Milly had found him after he had been soaking himself in cold water in the bathroom.
He whispered her name, nothing more than a hoarse, "Milly," but she understood, and was rushing towards him, catching him in her arms as he fell, collapsing against her like he had used up all of his strength just to talk.
His arms were limp at his sides, but he shifted until his face was buried at her neck. He was cold again, and his entire body wracked with shivers as he shuddered against her in a way that felt like it wasn't from the cold.
She could feel the flutter of his long, lush lashes against her skin, and strangely, even though the rest of him was wet, his face was dry, as if he had exerted effort to make it that way.
She patted his back, making soft, soothing sounds that were loud against Syusuke's silence as he continued to silently tremble and quake against her in a way he never had. And yet, Syusuke's face had still stayed dry.
There were no tears.
There were no tears, but Milly knew Syusuke was crying.
She only pressed him against her tighter, the echo of all the times he had been crying, without tears coming back to her, making her ache in the way she always had as she watched him smile and be hurt, unable to do anything at all.
And suddenly, she was back in the student council room, watching Syusuke smile and wave off her worries as she practically screamed at him to stop being so stupid, he had been hurt, did he realize how scared she had been and...
"...And you could have died!" she scolded, smoothing another band-aid over a cut on his knee. She tapped it once, just so she could see him wince and let go of his smile that was really more fake than real.
She hated it that he was so damn chivalrous. It gave her a warm feeling inside, but she had resolved to hate him more right now, because he was so damn chivalrous, that she couldn't find it in herself to be really angry with him because he had jumped in and saved her life at the cost of his own.
And it completely didn't matter that the car wouldn't have hit him anyway, so his argument really didn't stand a point.
So what if he was smart enough to calculate the velocity or whatever-whatever-blah-blah, and so what if he knew he wasn't going to get hurt, if she was the reason he stepped into the path of a speeding truck that would have cost him his life if it made bodily contact, the fact that the truck wouldn't have hit him anyway made no difference.
No difference at all.
"You're my friend, aren't you?" Syusuke finally said, bringing a hand down to pat against her cheek. "I don't react rationally when things threaten people who are important to me."
As he said it, his eyes peeled open, blue as the heavens, infinitely wise and gentle. They were always ever only gentle, just as they were always ever sad. The sadness was there now, mixed with the gentleness so tightly, Milly could never have told where one ended and the other began.
And it scared her that seeing Syusuke like this was getting on to be a habit, it almost felt natural.
"Yeah?" she bit out, yanking his folded-up pant leg down more angrily than she should have. "Well, what about you? Doing things like that, threatening your life..."
Syusuke gave her a smile that made her feel like a child and she trailed off, the rest of the words she had formulated in her head forgotten, stuck in a throat that was suddenly dry. In that moment, he looked older, and just as tired and weary. The sadness in his eyes became more pronounced until it erased the memory of everything other than agony.
"Ah," he said slowly, his lids falling back down into place, as he turned his head away. "But I'm not important."
She'd called him stupid then, and spent the next hour explaining just how important he was. By the end of it, Syusuke was laughing and patting her hand, telling her thank you in a way that told Milly that the past hour had been a wasted effort, he still didn't believe her.
But, she had thought then, he believed in someone.
Someone who had told him that he was worthless.
Milly had sworn then that when she found that someone, she would not rest until she pulled his existence away from the face of the earth because no one, no one, insulted people Milly loved like that and got away with it.
She and Syusuke were alike in that respect, but Milly, unlike Syusuke, had never had to learn the art of subtlety.
She'd commit homicide if she could, and she would, if it wouldn't land her in jail. She was always thorough in her revenge plans, and she has yet to kill anyone, yes, but really, that made next to no difference.
If she couldn't kill them, then she'd just make them wish they were dead.
And now, as she held Syusuke while he sobbed without tears, she suddenly knew for sure who that someone was.
"You came from Tezuka-san's place, didn't you" she asked, flatly, knowing the response before Syusuke even started to react.
But there was no reaction, just another shudder against her shoulder and half-warm, half-cold breath against her skin. There was a minute pause, before Syusuke shifted once again and pulled away from her, his entire posture still limp and weary.
"Don't tell Yuuta," he said, slowly as if it had taken him very long to formulate that simple, three-word sentence.
"Fine," she lied, shrugging her shoulders, and reaching for him once again.
Like hell she wouldn't tell Yuuta. If her brother was falling into depression because of some jerk who thought he could mess around with said brother's life, she'd want to know. She'd want to know so she could hurry up, kick his ass and get even.
Milly was very good at getting even. And so, she knew from personal experience, was Yuuta.
And so was Syusuke, actually, but since he was unfunctional right now, Tezuka-san would have to make do with just the two of them.
Between her and Yuuta, she was fairly sure they had enough resources combined to sufficiently ruin Tezuka-san's life.
He'd even actually made it fairly easy. After everything that happened, Milly knew just what to do.
All she had to do, after all, was take Syusuke away from him.
Her grip on Syusuke tightened possessively as she felt resolve settling down somewhere in the deep, dark part of her she liked to keep hidden away from everybody else. She buried her face into Syusuke's wet hair, cuddling him closer, because now she had something in her mind that she wanted.
Milly, even as a child had always, always, known what she wanted, when she wanted it and god bless anyone who got in her way. And right now, she wanted Syusuke, and she wanted him happy, and content and not stiffling his sobs, crying tearless in her arms, watching her with empty eyes every other hour of every other day.
Everything else, Tezuka-san most especially, could just go to hell.
Clary: And in the end, the additional one week of searching for inspiration amounted to nothing. I hate this chapter, it is so horrible, Imma go drown myself because I am such a horrible author.
DIE, ME!
Whatever's happening here HAS to written, though, because it makes some things for the coming events um... possible, I guess. Ah. I can't explain it, but this is a necessary, AWFUL, I know, chappie... –IS SAD-
So far, uni is not fun at all. Lia's getting busy, but it's cool coz she's learning SUPER AWESOME physiology and whatnot stuff, and compared to her, I'm like WHAT KIND OF GARBAGE AM I LEARNING~~~~~~~~? When am I ever going to use "The orange will have been being eaten," in my life? WHEN? It doesn't even SOUND RIGHT! –moans-
Okay. So uni ranting aside, next update from me will be for Crimson Waves, if there are any of you who are reading that one, too :)
SO. Please do drop a review... Even just to tell me how much you guys hated this... TT . TT
They make inspiration come faster... :)
