disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not a single thing. Well, that's not true. but I don't own Weiss.
warning: darkness, angst, swearing, references to sex (yaoi), all the fun stuff.
notes: This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so it might suck. It also might get really long. It may seemed cliched at first, but its not. Really. I swear. Comments are appreciated, both bad and good.
Justified
His back is to me. The moonlight that streams through my window illuminates my room enough for me to see his movements. He quickly pulls his clothes on and stands up. I watch him walk to the door, the soft light shining against his black hair. He opens the door, and without a look back, exits my room, shutting the door softly behind him.
The room is quiet for a minute, and then illuminated momentarily as I light my cigarette. I take a long pull off it, and then watch as the smoke drifts lazily towards the ceiling.
It has been like this for a month. Or has it been longer? I've lost track. Every night it is the same thing. He comes in, we fuck, he leaves. Its simple, really. I have done it to many people myself.
So why does it bother me?
He told me the first night that it would be like this, that I am just a quick fuck for him. I told him I knew that. I told myself I didn't care. I told myself it didn't matter. I told myself thats all I wanted anyways. I am just getting what I want, what I have wanted all along. Sex is all that matters.
I am such a liar.
I have never wanted anything more than sex. I always thought I was incapable of anything more than that. And now... the one time I have ever wanted anything more, I cannot have it. I cannot really have him. And it hurts.
warning: darkness, angst, swearing, references to sex (yaoi), all the fun stuff.
notes: This is my first attempt at fanfiction, so it might suck. It also might get really long. It may seemed cliched at first, but its not. Really. I swear. Comments are appreciated, both bad and good.
Justified
His back is to me. The moonlight that streams through my window illuminates my room enough for me to see his movements. He quickly pulls his clothes on and stands up. I watch him walk to the door, the soft light shining against his black hair. He opens the door, and without a look back, exits my room, shutting the door softly behind him.
The room is quiet for a minute, and then illuminated momentarily as I light my cigarette. I take a long pull off it, and then watch as the smoke drifts lazily towards the ceiling.
It has been like this for a month. Or has it been longer? I've lost track. Every night it is the same thing. He comes in, we fuck, he leaves. Its simple, really. I have done it to many people myself.
So why does it bother me?
He told me the first night that it would be like this, that I am just a quick fuck for him. I told him I knew that. I told myself I didn't care. I told myself it didn't matter. I told myself thats all I wanted anyways. I am just getting what I want, what I have wanted all along. Sex is all that matters.
I am such a liar.
I have never wanted anything more than sex. I always thought I was incapable of anything more than that. And now... the one time I have ever wanted anything more, I cannot have it. I cannot really have him. And it hurts.
