This is a chapter I did kind of late. There is swearing and maybe something else but I might change the rating later to higher…it all depends…Meh...Here you go…
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Well, Yzak was impatient. They had to wait till the following day when their suits would be repaired and then they could go from there. Yzak left the plan in the back of his mind since he would only work himself up again into another one of his 'fits' as Dearka called them. What was his problem anyway, telling him what to do, and thinking he knew him? Dearka claimed that he could tell Yzaks' expressions like the cover of a book. He knew each one of Yzaks' many different scowling faces which should all look the same in Yzak's opinion but apparently they didn't. One was a fuck-off-I-don't-want-to-see-you scowl, a I'll-listen-if-I-have-to scowl, a I-want-to-be-here-but-you-can't-know-that scowl, a Thank-you scowl, and probably many more that had slipped Yzak's mind from Dearka's earlier list. Why would he waste so much time worrying about it anyway? Dearka…he had problems…Yzak thought.
Yzak sat at the desk, typing away at the computer about some useless report he needed to fill out and fax to Kreuze. Honestly it was stupid and unimportant but it had to be done. Dearka, somewhere along the line had already done his but Yzak couldn't figure out when the blonde had had the time. Oh well. It wasn't his business. Yzak hit save then print and waited for the forever slow printer to print of the many sheets which in Yzak's mind was too much, although he couldn't get it any smaller because if he did, it wouldn't be readable. Meanwhile, while the printer ached away at its job, Yzak took off his red ZAFT shirt and hung it loosely on the back of the chair while he flopped down on the bed. Now back to his blonde friend…Yzak knew not of his whereabouts. Dearka occasionally disappeared to whereabouts unknown and never told them to Yzak. But why should he? Yzak never told him where he went. Maybe Dearka just needed some time alone. Maybe he was just as pissed off as Yzak was but didn't want Yzak to know. Dearka was usually a calm and confident person, not someone to let his temper loose like the certain silver haired boy at hand.
Yzak shifted so he lay on his side, facing Dearka's empty bed, made neatly as if never used. Yzak scowled at the neatness and decided to mess it up. Why? He didn't really know but maybe because it seemed like Dearka was some kind of freak and it bothered Yzak. He liked Dearka. He was someone Yzak trusted and Yzak didn't trust many people. Trust was a big, BIG thing to Yzak and he didn't give many people that honor but somehow Dearka had managed it although he wasn't much different than some others. Again, Yzak thrust that topic aside. He stared down at the bed in which he had just screwed up. The two pillows Dearka slept with (although he was only supposed to have one) weren't on the bed anymore. One was by the door while the other leaned up against the bottom. The blankets were askew and one end was still in the grip of Yzaks' hand. Without really thinking he lifted it to his face, and smelled it. It smelled of Dearka's familiar soft scent that always, in some weird fucked up way in Yzak's head, comforted him. The fabric was not only soft in his cold hands but to his face, as he slide it across his cheek, over the scar that gashed through his face.
The scar he would not have removed until he had his revenge and was satisfied. Although it didn't make him look any-less attractive he would rather not have gotten it in the first place. A mistake he could not allow to be repeated. His fingers idly traced through the fabric across his scar and again he felt rage boiling through his veins and in a strong attempt he calmed himself. Dearka said Yzak's rage was deadly and Yzak didn't want to do anything that would make him consider breaking anything (in this case he'd probably end up choosing that stupid printer which still wasn't done-they need a new one desperately-this place was so ill equipped for him).
Yzak returned his gaze back to the empty bed and then to his bed which was in a slightly better condition than Dearka's now that Yzak had done his mischief. With the blanket still to his face he slowly seated himself on the edge of Dearkas' bed, letting his mind slip into a day dream of god knows what but he seemed to be relaxing, fingers stroking the fabric to his face. He was too distracted that he barely heard the door slide open and was too late in removing the sheet from his face, which Dearka saw and smirked?
He walked over so he stood before the silver haired boy on his bed. Yzak went to rise; mouth working to make an excuse but Dearka just leaned forward and shut him up. His lip pressed to Yzaks, and with shock Yzak gasped and Dearka slid his tongue in, and the kiss was deepened.
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Well, there, chapter added. This story was originally supposed to be a one shot but I guess that changed. I only worked on this because I'm at a writers block for my other stories. (I have the next chapter done for Torment and Ordeal and the next chapter for Twisted is started, and Transparent Lies I have yet to really get another chapter going because I need my friend to give me more details since it's her plot)
What do you think of this chapter? Good or a failure? I have an idea how to start the next chapter if I continue. If you got any ideas' I wouldn't mind hearing them, I'll try to write better. Anyhow…that's all for now.