Violet Tears
Hehe, dunno where I got the idea for this... Just pleasr r/r, and remember I'm writing this when I have a majorly huge headache.
~~~*~~~
It should have been the perfect night. The moonlight danced around the pier, illuminating the small ripples of water as they swam up onto the sandy shore, then eventually seeping into the mud. Distant waves towered into the sky far out in the ocean, pouring over themselves as they neared the shore. Remnants of what used to be sand castles from that day sat peacefully on the shore; little footsteps were still visible. Then there was the breeze. The ocean breeze. So pure and...beautiful, unlike any other breeze he could have felt. The ocean's breath ran itself through the boys' long, braided hair and caressed his face gently, echoing some ancient words he couldn't quite hear. Never before had he felt something so clean, pure, beautiful...clensing. Another wave crawled onto the shoreline, washing over anything in it's path, yet too gentle to move any of the small pebbles which lay engraved in the sand. The sand appeared almost golden in the white moonlight, shimmering. He figured there must be little bits of gold somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, each wave churning up tiny pieces to be brought to shore for unworthy eyes to gaze upon such natural beauty. Raising his violet eyes slowly to the night sky, he saw stars twinkling at him from their far off distances and spaces, each one a shining light amongst the darkness of the midnight sky. It should have been the perfect night, but it wasn't. It was far from perfect... Because the person he loved with all his heart and being wasn't there to share the moment with him.
He cast his eyes downward, drawing in his knees and resting his forehead on them. A different, colder breeze flew past him. It wasn't the warm, welcoming breeze of the ocean, but one of a nearby city, cold and unforgiving. Like ice. He shivered; foolishly he hadn't brought a jacket. The cup of tea he had beside him was far past cold and he saw no point in drinking it anymore, now that the night had stolen its warmth away. Just like the warmth he felt from an embrace from his beloved, an embrace he would probably never feel again. It was similar to how he was sure he would never be held tightly, kissed softly, or simply be told he was loved one last time from pilot 01.Though he was constantly unsure why he suddenly felt so rejected and lost, he couldn't help but think that maybe something was going wrong with the two. Things just weren't how they used to be. But he didn't think Wing's pilot was doing something immoral, the Perfect Soldier wouldn't stoop so low as to do such things, and the American knew it, for he had seen the softer side to the stoic Japanese boy. But if he knew these things for sure, why did he worry so? He considered staying at the beach the whole night, to see if anyone would notice his absence, though for some reason he doubted anyone would, despite the silence which would fill the house without his numerous pranks on everyone. Maybe they would... He hoped they would.
Seconds blended into minutes, and minutes into hours without pilot 02 noticing at all. He just sat there, letting occasional waves soak him to the bone with his head in his hands, thinking. Normally he wouldn't venture so far into the depths of his thoughts, but tonight he just couldn't help it. His thoughts weren't enough to scare him, but they gave him uneasy feelings. Memories of the wars, the first time he hand to press the button to blow up a base... The number of people who died at his mercy. To him, his hands were stained with soldier's blood, the death and redness burning into his skin at every given moment no matter how hard he tried to shove the thoughts away; the stains could never be removed. He was tarnished with blood and death, he even called himself Shinigami. Yet now he wasn't so sure he liked being known as someone to fear. At the time of war he loved it; he loved being feared and envied, in fact he didn't just love it, he *yearned* for it. He yearned to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies, he *wanted* people to be jealous of him. But now... Now he didn't know. Further diving into his thoughts continued as water soaked him more and more, but he took no notice as he mused over his past and present, blinking back the occasional tear. `Boys don't cry,' he told himself. `And that means I don't cry.' The words proved to be useless as a single tear slid down his cheek, followed by more and more.
His attention was finally drawn from his depressing thoughts as a bright light shone into his despondent amethyst eyes. He looked wildly around before realizing where he was. The ocean. He had spent the whole night gazing out into the dark, watery depths without even doing so much as to call the rest of the ex-pilots to let them know he was okay. Standing up on shaky legs, he leaned against an old, mossy wooden beam belonging to the pier to steady himself. His head hurt, and he found it hard to breath. `Damnit,' he thought, closing his eyes, feeling the tracks the tears had burned down his face from the night before, `My cold must have gotten worse...' he smirked silently. `Not like anyone noticed... No one even came to see if I was okay...' Amethyst eyes wide and hurt, he came to the realization. No one came. They all knew he had mentioned something about the ocean, meaning chances were he was sitting infront of the water, yet no one, not even the small Arabian Quatre decided to check up on him. Somewhere between his throbbing headache and uneven breathing, he felt tears coming to his eyes.
Once he was sure he could stand and move without collapsing, he started walking back to the house he shared with the other ex-pilots. He let out a soft moan when the ground started tilting beneath him, but he kept on walking, forcing himself to stand straight. Things started becoming black and fuzzy. Cringing, he fought to keep his eyes open as he shuffled along, unable to feel his feet. He was swaying and he didn't even notice it. Not until his knees caved in and everything went completely dark.
~~~*~~~
There's the first chappie! ^__^ I hope you guys like this, I wrote it while fighting off a headache I've had all day long, so please dun kill me if it sucks lol.
PLEASE R/R! I have pocky for anyone who does! ^__^
Ja matta, minna!
Forever Duo's Girl/TaraSaturn
email: glitzykiss67@aol.com
OR
IM: DuosHotandMine01
Hehe, dunno where I got the idea for this... Just pleasr r/r, and remember I'm writing this when I have a majorly huge headache.
~~~*~~~
It should have been the perfect night. The moonlight danced around the pier, illuminating the small ripples of water as they swam up onto the sandy shore, then eventually seeping into the mud. Distant waves towered into the sky far out in the ocean, pouring over themselves as they neared the shore. Remnants of what used to be sand castles from that day sat peacefully on the shore; little footsteps were still visible. Then there was the breeze. The ocean breeze. So pure and...beautiful, unlike any other breeze he could have felt. The ocean's breath ran itself through the boys' long, braided hair and caressed his face gently, echoing some ancient words he couldn't quite hear. Never before had he felt something so clean, pure, beautiful...clensing. Another wave crawled onto the shoreline, washing over anything in it's path, yet too gentle to move any of the small pebbles which lay engraved in the sand. The sand appeared almost golden in the white moonlight, shimmering. He figured there must be little bits of gold somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, each wave churning up tiny pieces to be brought to shore for unworthy eyes to gaze upon such natural beauty. Raising his violet eyes slowly to the night sky, he saw stars twinkling at him from their far off distances and spaces, each one a shining light amongst the darkness of the midnight sky. It should have been the perfect night, but it wasn't. It was far from perfect... Because the person he loved with all his heart and being wasn't there to share the moment with him.
He cast his eyes downward, drawing in his knees and resting his forehead on them. A different, colder breeze flew past him. It wasn't the warm, welcoming breeze of the ocean, but one of a nearby city, cold and unforgiving. Like ice. He shivered; foolishly he hadn't brought a jacket. The cup of tea he had beside him was far past cold and he saw no point in drinking it anymore, now that the night had stolen its warmth away. Just like the warmth he felt from an embrace from his beloved, an embrace he would probably never feel again. It was similar to how he was sure he would never be held tightly, kissed softly, or simply be told he was loved one last time from pilot 01.Though he was constantly unsure why he suddenly felt so rejected and lost, he couldn't help but think that maybe something was going wrong with the two. Things just weren't how they used to be. But he didn't think Wing's pilot was doing something immoral, the Perfect Soldier wouldn't stoop so low as to do such things, and the American knew it, for he had seen the softer side to the stoic Japanese boy. But if he knew these things for sure, why did he worry so? He considered staying at the beach the whole night, to see if anyone would notice his absence, though for some reason he doubted anyone would, despite the silence which would fill the house without his numerous pranks on everyone. Maybe they would... He hoped they would.
Seconds blended into minutes, and minutes into hours without pilot 02 noticing at all. He just sat there, letting occasional waves soak him to the bone with his head in his hands, thinking. Normally he wouldn't venture so far into the depths of his thoughts, but tonight he just couldn't help it. His thoughts weren't enough to scare him, but they gave him uneasy feelings. Memories of the wars, the first time he hand to press the button to blow up a base... The number of people who died at his mercy. To him, his hands were stained with soldier's blood, the death and redness burning into his skin at every given moment no matter how hard he tried to shove the thoughts away; the stains could never be removed. He was tarnished with blood and death, he even called himself Shinigami. Yet now he wasn't so sure he liked being known as someone to fear. At the time of war he loved it; he loved being feared and envied, in fact he didn't just love it, he *yearned* for it. He yearned to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies, he *wanted* people to be jealous of him. But now... Now he didn't know. Further diving into his thoughts continued as water soaked him more and more, but he took no notice as he mused over his past and present, blinking back the occasional tear. `Boys don't cry,' he told himself. `And that means I don't cry.' The words proved to be useless as a single tear slid down his cheek, followed by more and more.
His attention was finally drawn from his depressing thoughts as a bright light shone into his despondent amethyst eyes. He looked wildly around before realizing where he was. The ocean. He had spent the whole night gazing out into the dark, watery depths without even doing so much as to call the rest of the ex-pilots to let them know he was okay. Standing up on shaky legs, he leaned against an old, mossy wooden beam belonging to the pier to steady himself. His head hurt, and he found it hard to breath. `Damnit,' he thought, closing his eyes, feeling the tracks the tears had burned down his face from the night before, `My cold must have gotten worse...' he smirked silently. `Not like anyone noticed... No one even came to see if I was okay...' Amethyst eyes wide and hurt, he came to the realization. No one came. They all knew he had mentioned something about the ocean, meaning chances were he was sitting infront of the water, yet no one, not even the small Arabian Quatre decided to check up on him. Somewhere between his throbbing headache and uneven breathing, he felt tears coming to his eyes.
Once he was sure he could stand and move without collapsing, he started walking back to the house he shared with the other ex-pilots. He let out a soft moan when the ground started tilting beneath him, but he kept on walking, forcing himself to stand straight. Things started becoming black and fuzzy. Cringing, he fought to keep his eyes open as he shuffled along, unable to feel his feet. He was swaying and he didn't even notice it. Not until his knees caved in and everything went completely dark.
~~~*~~~
There's the first chappie! ^__^ I hope you guys like this, I wrote it while fighting off a headache I've had all day long, so please dun kill me if it sucks lol.
PLEASE R/R! I have pocky for anyone who does! ^__^
Ja matta, minna!
Forever Duo's Girl/TaraSaturn
email: glitzykiss67@aol.com
OR
IM: DuosHotandMine01