Disclaimer: Not mine, story is.
A/N: A stand-alone fic that emerged when I felt like writing something different. Fan-fiction to my own fanfiction: Three Swords. It's AU, short and silly. Maybe a bit OOC- concerning Three Swords, that is. It's Roy's thoughts about a certain blue-haired swordsman. No, I'm not continuing- I have a bigger fic to finish and I've always thought short stories are easier. If, for some unbelievably insane reason, people liked this maybe I'll do more short fics like this more often. Maybe not. Opinions welcome.
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It's so strange. I'm sprawled on the floor, not a care in the world, letting the sun soak into me and I smile goofily at him as he walks by. I don't even avert my eyes as he locks his with mine and I smile. The grin lingers on my lips, even as he leaves, because the very earth-shattering fact that he turned to look at me substitutes all else. And then I frown at myself. It's so strange.
It happens once again. And twice again. And I'm starting to panic. Stop looking at me, you, wielder of my inner turmoil. It's okay to have an excuse to talk to me and be near me. But you're doing it too much and it's putting me on edge.
I pretend not to notice when you're in the same room. Heavens, I pretend not to notice when you touch my hand fleetingly. It's not true is it? I mean, just because I have the sudden urge to touch you does not mean I share the same feelings those same love-sick couples have when they stride arm-in-arm anywhere with stupid, far gone looks on their faces. Does it? No, I'll pretend I don't.
You don't do it on purpose do you? You're getting to me and I know you know. I hate your guts because of it and you know I do. I hate you. I hate your stupid hair that mirrors the colour of the sky, I hate your eyes that are always shining in warmth and I despise that stupid smile of yours that always forces a smile onto my face. You're doing it on purpose. That I know.
Do you know how lost and muddled I've become? I bet you're enjoying that. That smug look on your face is there because I was looking for you all day. And when I found you, you only looked at me and smirked handsomely. I know you like that, you bastard. You like the attention I'm giving you but you don't deserve it.
How weak am I?! I'm disgusted at myself. I'm pining away for you when you disappear all day and when you return, your pretty face is too tired to even acknowledge the fact that I waited for you for who-knows how many freaking hours. You don't even notice I'm in your room. Only when you're about to drop off to sleep right then and there do you realise I'm obstructing your line of sight. Maybe you didn't know.
Now you protest. Well, the hell with you. I'm leaving and I don't care how lovely it is to hear you call my name and hold my arm back. I'm leaving and you can't do a thing about it. Except…that. He holds me and it seems as if his tiredness fades away as he looks into my eyes. Don't you dare use that to your advantage because it godamn works and I find myself lingering in your arms as my fiery façade crumbles. You know I hate you, right?
He nods but doesn't let me go, that ever-present half-smile on his face. I try not to push him away as I realise how truly close we've become. Not just now. I think he knows what I'm thinking because he clings to me tighter and a serious look crosses over him.
This embrace is already prolonged enough and my body starts to ache from standing in the same position for too long. But he doesn't let go. Angry, I do the only thing I see fit. I slump to the ground. Unfortunately it doesn't work perfectly and he comes down with me. Great, fantastic- get the hell off. This time he doesn't hear. Or I think he doesn't listen. What's the bloody difference?
Trying to seduce me, are you? I can play that game. I give him a look, one that'll have his pathetic heart jumping. And it does- I can feel it against me. He almost succeeds because he gives me a smile and that comeback was almost enough to have me withering like some lust-drunk fool on the spot. Only I don't.
He's still lying on top of me and now the floor is giving me an ache and I can't get up. You speak but I don't pay attention; I'm too occupied in admiring the way your mouth moves. And that very thought makes me nauseous at how incredibly easy I've fallen for you. I don't remember how- I think I tickled you- but I managed to get you off and the hardest thing I had to do was walk out of your room calmly. I don't think I managed that because I tripped over some invisible force on the way out and you were there, ready to scoop me up and kiss me. Don't lie, I could see it in your eyes. I didn't let you though.
I smile goofily at him as he walks by because this time I know and he doesn't. This time I have the advantage. He turns to look at me, small pleading in his eyes and I grin conceitedly. You know I'm not yours yet. I'll let you pine over me this time. I'm not surprised when I find him waiting in my room that day. I think I'll keep you waiting a little bit more- like when you kept me waiting.
Ah, maybe not. Nothing ever goes as I plan so I just let you. You tremble as you do it and I laugh into your eager kiss. Typical. You know I don't hate you, do you?