Disclaimer: Again, I own not Weiss, no matter how much I wish I did.

Summary: Same story as last chapter, only this time from Aya's POV as he thinks of Ken. Hope you enjoy! Please please review!

Dedications: Again, this is dedicated to my KenKen koi, because I was thinking of her when I wrote this.






I cringe as the noises slip through the walls, ringing in my ears. I hate him every time I hear him gasp in pleasure, I hate him even more when I hear your moan. Every fucking night I have to deal with Balinese and his noise as he fucks you. Every night I have to lay, alone, and listen as the one I love is touched and pleasured by that man. What ever has he done to deserve your love? What hadn't I done to deserve you? I know I'm cold and icy, but... why can't you love me too? I'm better than that playboy, I'm who you deserved. I moan as I allow my hand to slip down into my pants. Night after night I imagine your tan, built body between my sheets, touching me sweetly, making me moan as Balinese does. Oh God how I wished it to be true. But oh, how it would never be. At last I hear the gentle thump as he falls to the floor, into your arms. I image myself in those strong arms of yours, those long fingers tracing hearts on my back as I take in the scent of your hair, the feel of your skin. I shut my eyes tightly and imagine you touching me, your hand instead of mine making me gasp and moan. I let out a long breath as I release myself and roll over, clutching a pillow to my chest. Inside my heart hurt. It hurt, because I know you will never be mine.

Every day at the flower shop I make sure you have a shift with me, just so I can watch you. Today you're arranging a bouquet of gentians, nimble fingers placing each flower with care. You place rose buds at the edge of the arrangement and I smile. Rose, my favorite flower. I continue watering said favorite flowers, letting the spray dapple the rose blooms in gentle drops. I feel eyes upon my back and look at the high schoolers that plague us every day. I yell at them to leave unless they plan to buy something, but they don't listen. They never listen. As if on cue, he saunters in, wrapping his arms around your slim waist, pulling you away from the gentian/rose arrangement. A growl arises in my throat, but I fight it back; I know what he wants to do with you the privacy of the apartment behind and above the flower shop. I'm about to remind him of the work still needed to be done when Bombay comes scurrying in. Damn bubbling blond. I watch with heavy lidded eyes as he sneaks you out the door. I turn back to my flowers and fight the pain in my chest.

Minutes later, I hear a soft cry. Looking around, I realize that no one else has heard it but me. I turn the hose off and slink away, quickly making my way to the kitchen where you lay. There he is, touching you, kissing you, raping you. Tears spring to my eyes as I see your lips, red and bloody, crying out without a sound. He's making you cry. Hatred fills me as I watch him touch you. My eyes go wide as he yells at you. He's yelling because you whispered another's name while he touched you. My name. Quickly words run through my head. Is it true? Did you really whisper my name? Were you imagining it was I who was touching you instead of him? My heart prayed for it to be true. I longed to hear you whisper my name in the night. I longed for your gentle touch upon my skin. Was it possible now? Was it truly what you wanted? I watch as he releases you, blood dripping down your legs to the tiled floor. You stand and hurriedly dress, wincing as your hand brushes a bruise that man caused. Without a sound, you walk up the stairs to your room, and I watch, in fascination, as your lover is left, rocking and crying, whispering to himself the question he and I both share. What has he done?

Without a thought, I order him to clean up the mess he's left in the kitchen, and I trudge up the stairs, not knowing what I'll find. My hand brushes the wood of your door, opening it with a soft creak. Peering in, I find your bed empty and I panic. What if you've run away? What if you've left, never to return? In a blind worry, I waltz to my room, where I stop cold. You're there, hugging to you my pillow, tears creating a dark circle in the material. My panic subsides and I walk to you, running my fingers through your chestnut hair. It's soft, softer than my own. I bury my face in it, taking in your sweet smell. I sigh and hug you to my chest, your free-falling tears seeping through my shirt. Reluctantly I let you go, only to slip in behind you and pull the covers over our bodies. My arm slips around your waist, and I press you tightly against my chest and close my eyes. As I was about to drift into sleep, I feel your muscles tense against my body and I open my eyes, looking up at you. Your brown eyes are staring back at me, wide and afraid. I smile and hug you tighter, waiting for you to whisper to me the words I've longed to hear. Softly you choke out the words I've never heard, the words I want you to say to me, and only me. Not knowing if I've heard, you say it again, whispering it a little louder this time.

I love you, Aya, your voice shakes as you say it, and I smile. I kiss the back of your neck and whisper to you the love I've felt for so long. I feel your body relax, and you snuggle closer to me as I whisper it again. And at last, I know this is where I'm meant to belong.