Clash
by Lethe Seraph
Chapter Three: Eat It!
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Lethe is now listening to happy music. ^_^
"We are closer than brothers! Now we have to fight each other! Can we trust our fate to the heart of the cards…?"
Fufufu. ^_^ I love this kind of music. But then I also like a bunch of other stuff. Like Yanni. And the Trans-Siberian Orchestra. And Yoko Kanno! Rain is a great song. :3 Thus ends Lethe's brief Music Chat.
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Lethe finished watching Robin Williams Live on Broadway today! He is Lethe's favorite comedian. ^__^ That is a fact that always surprises Lethe's friends, because she is known to be rather unfond of vulgar language. But he's so funny/clever! And he was the Genie! ^__^
A great big thank you to everyone who reviewed! Would you like a plushie or a five-inch bendable figurine?
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I don't know why, but lately I've been having strange dreams.
I know that dreams are nothing more than random firings of memory…
but sometimes I wonder.
These dreams seem so real.
A shadowed figure, hidden within a light-
His eyes gleam crimson.
He looks at me and my heart runs rapidly
And I reach towards him.
I don't know why
but I always reach out
I want to bring him forth, and embrace this strange darkness…
A darkness from which bright fire is born…
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A cold bead of sweat ran down the side of Malik's cheek, and he winced. The time was ticking by slowly. Very, very slowly.
And the steak still hadn't come.
He was nervous, he knew that much. But why? Was he…
No. He wouldn't think about it. He wouldn't think about it at all. No way would he obsess over the fact that he was about to share a meal with Bakura. No way, no how. It wasn't like he cared. It wasn't a plate of spaghetti or anything. It wasn't like he liked him. Not at all.
"You're sweating," pointed out Bakura helpfully.
Malik twitched.
"Here's your order, sirs," said the waiter politely, glancing at the two. "I hope you'll enjoy it."
"Oh, we will," said Bakura with a somewhat twisted smile. Not that any of his smiles were ever straight. Was anything about the Thief straight? …No! NOT LIKE THAT! Malik gave himself a mental slap. He figured he had just killed off a few brain cells, but then, it was better than drooling over a guy who could hardly be considered alive, let alone within twenty years of his age.
The waiter left, after giving Bakura and Malik an odd grin. He seemed about their age – Malik's age, anyway. Well, whatever. Malik discarded the expired train of thought and started work on a pretty silver Chevy Cavalier. "You moved to Domino a few years ago, right? Do you like it better?"
"Hm? It's all right, I suppose." His smile, twisted as it was, quirked amusedly. "There are plenty of interesting mortals to play with."
Malik put a hand to his face, feigning shock. "You pervert!"
Bakura laughed. "You're the one who hangs out with the pervert. What does that make you?"
"The one who recognizes the pervert for what he is?"
It wasn't funny, but for some reason Bakura started chuckling. And Malik couldn't help but join in.
"All right," said Bakura. "How are we going to do this?"
"Huh?"
"Well, we can split it in two if you want to make sure I'm not going to steal any of your half, or-"
"We can just share," said Malik. "If that's all right."
Bakura grinned. "Well, dig in," he said cheerfully, picking up his knife and fork.
"Okay…" said Malik, wincing at the nervous quaver in his voice. He hoped that Bakura hadn't noticed.
Then again… Bakura was a thief. Wasn't it kind of required that he was really good at noticing things?
…Aw, hell, he robbed dead people. Centuries ago. He couldn't have been too good.
He sounds kind of nervous, noted Bakura with a slight grin, as he chewed on a particularly juicy bit of steak.
"Now what?" said Malik. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"
Bakura shrugged. "Not really."
"Oh."
"You?"
"Can't think of anything offhand. That's why I asked you."
"Do you want the red pill or the blue pill?"
Malik rewarded Bakura with a confused stare.
Bakura shook his head slowly. He exhaled loudly. "Some people just have no class…"
"Like you, right?"
"I'm in a class of my own," said Bakura. He smirked.
"Yeah… it encompasses insanity, depravity, stupidity, and egotisticity."
"Ego-what?" laughed Bakura.
"Egotisticity!" repeated Malik. "I'm sure it's a word."
"Oh, really? If you really think so, then I could beat you at Scrabble any day."
"What do you know, Thief?" said Malik. "You've been in there for how long?"
"Quite a while," said Bakura.
"And how long have you been out? How much modern Japanese have you actually learned?"
"Enough to beat your sorry ass!" said Bakura. His eye twitched; this did not go unnoticed by Malik.
Heh. I got him to say 'ass', thought Malik inanely. He giggled.
Bakura raised a pale eyebrow. "Since when do you giggle?"
"Since when do you curse?"
"How long have you known me?"
"You haven't cursed."
"Do you actually listen to me?"
Malik grinned. "Probably not."
Malik looked at Bakura.
Bakura looked at Malik.
Malik and Bakura looked at each other.
Slowly, they began leaning towards each other.
They lifted their forks.
"MINE!" they yelled, stabbing at the last piece.
"Owww….." said Malik, pained; he retracted his hand and gave Bakura an injured look. "You didn't have to hit me with your fork…"
"Hey, I got what I wanted," said Bakura through his mouthful.
Malik sighed.
Bakura laughed. "Well, if you want it now, I'll give it to you."
Malik was about to respond with a "Wow! You're nicer than I thought!", when he realized that it was in Bakura's mouth. Already-chewed-steak. Ew.
At that moment, he would have told Bakura, "No way. That's just sick."
Then he had another revelation: It was in Bakura's mouth.
His heart pounded. It was now or never. He wetted his lips nervously and spoke. "Will you really?"
Bakura blinked. "You get your kicks in some really strange ways, Malik." He plucked the piece of steak out of his mouth and held it out to Malik.
Malik shook his head. "No. Put it back in."
"Huh?" For once, Bakura was at a loss for words, but he obliged.
And then…
