A/N: I am determined to give this story my all! I have a lot written. 50 handwritten pages to be exact. But it's still not finished! I think I should maybe write smaller so that I quit fooling myself. I mean, I feel like I've accomplished something when I write 15 pages, but that only types up to barely 6! Not even! Cries Waah! I'm so pathetic! Sniff

I was in water. Deep, dark, heavy water. It was pressing all around me. I have to get to the surface! I tried to swim up, but my movement was sluggish and I felt as though I was being drug down by weights on my feet. I kept trying. I pushed and strived for the surface that was so close, yet so far. Achingly slowly, I rose inch by painful inch to the light. As I broke the surface, I gasped for the wonderfully sweet air.

My eyes shot open and I sat up, gasping for air. The nightmare brought old fears to the surface. Sweat dripped down my face and I stared blankly forward. I tried to calm myself down and managed to at least slow my breathing. As I sat there, panting slightly, my thoughts raced behind my unusually still face. I slowed my thoughts and realized that I was gripping the blankets so hard that my knuckled were turning white. I unclenched my fists and scanned the room. Moonlight filtered in through the window, lighting up half of the bed I was lying on. Bed? What am I doing in a bed? My thoughts started racing again. I held a hand up to my aching temple and told myself "No. Stop." All thoughts in my head paused. "All right, slowly." I muttered. I shut my eyes and concentrated. I was talking to Yuki and I...collapsed I guess. My eyes widened open. "All right, keep calm." I sighed and let out the breath I wasn't aware of holding in the first place. I collapsed and now I'm...In his bed. I concluded. All that thinking and deduction calmed my mind and body and sleep claimed me again. As my eyes fluttered shut, I could've sworn that I saw someone else sitting calmly I a chair in the corner while watching me with passive interest.

As light filtered into the room that morning, Yuki stood up and left. He went straight to the kitchen for coffee. As soon as the coffee machine was purring he went in search of a phone.

"Hello? Seguchi Tohma speaking."

"Yes, Tohma?"

"Hello Eiri."

"I'm taking the day off." He said gruffly.

"You're in luck today, Yuki." Tohma purred. "You have nothing on your schedule besides band practice."

"I'm sure that with your connections I could have nothing on my schedule anytime."

Tohma laughed lightly. "Thank you for the compliment. But are you sure that you want to miss practice? You do have a concert coming up..."

Yuki stopped to ponder that for a moment. He does have a point.

A Nittle Grasper song started playing from the general direction of the couch.

"Yes, I'm sure Tohma. Hanging up." He flipped the phone off and rummaged through the my jacket on the couch to find a bright pink cell phone playing music, lighting up, and vibrating. All at the same time. The caller I.D. said "Editor."

He pressed a button and put the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Shindou-san? Is that you?"

"No. He's...indisposed at the moment." He improvised.

"Oh. He was supposed to be coming in this morning with some poem ideas. Although he did sound a bit reluctant."

"He mentioned that you wanted to use his poems in his book. How did you find out about them?" He asked with interest. While the gears in his mind worked furiously.

"We found them published in newspapers. All it took was one search of his name in the database and we found all of them."

"If you like them so much, why not use those?" He said slyly.

Silence.

He smirked in victory as she said "Tell Shindou-an to come in around two for a meeting." Click.

As he replaced the phone he stood up and walked towards the coffee machine. He poured the steaming brew in his cup.

"Is that coffee I smell?"

He turned around and saw me standing in the doorway, yawning and ruffling my already mussed up hair.

"Yeah."

"Can I have some?"

He nodded his assent.

I padded across the floor as Yuki reached into cupboard and pulled out a mug. I sat on the counter while drinking my coffee black. I held it with both hands while breathing in the heavy steam.

"Your editor called."

I looked up in surprise and dropped the mug.

"AAHH! I'm late!" I screamed and ran out the apartment.

"Hey, baka! You're not properly dressed!" He roared.

Not only was I not properly dressed, I was also wearing one of his more favorite.

I screeched to a stop in the hallway of the complex, yelping as I got a rug burn.

I sheepishly walked back to the door and stepped back inside. Yuki stood with his feet planted wide in a firm stance, fuming.

"You dropped and broke my mug, and tried to run off in my clothes." He said in a tight voice.

I bowed my head and sheepishly said "I'm sorry to bother you, but I really need to leave."

"Your editor called." Yuki said simply.

I looked up to see that the blond had visibly calmed and mopping up the mess on the floor with a rag.

"Eh?"

"She said that they're thinking about just using your old poems and to come in at 2pm."

"Oh." I mouthed. I looked down at my clothes, then looked up at the tall man. "I need to change."

"I didn't feel like drying your clothes last night. So you'll have to do it yourself."

"All right!" I nodded my head feverishly, eager to help.

"Your clothes are still on the floor in the bathroom, and the laundry is the second door on the left."

I sped off in that general direction.

Yuki sat down on the couch while pulling a cigarette out. "Actually," He murmured. "I was too busy watching you."

I picked up my wet clothes with a towel and while humming lightly skipped down the hall to the laundry room. I deposited the wet items in the dryer and put the towel in what looked like the towel hamper. I turned the dryer on and peered into the front room to see Yuki sitting back with his eyes closed as he puffed on a cigarette. I breathed in the smoke quietly; wishing that I could have a nicotine fix as well and silently slid down to the floor at the entrance of the room.

Yuki opened his eyes when he heard the quiet "Wumph" of body hitting floor. He glanced around the room and saw me sitting contentedly against the wall breathing in deeply. Yuki held up his cigarette and looked at it intently. Please don't tell me that this kid smokes. He's weird enough already.

We sat in comfortable silence. Yuki was puffing quietly while I sat in deep thought. As if walking through water I slowly got up and crossed the room to the couch and sat on the floor somewhere near Yuki's legs. I pulled a pad and pen from my jacket's pocket and scribbled a few random ideas down, unaware of my small audience. I pieced a bit of it together, but wasn't really satisfied, so put the stuff back.

"Interesting." Murmured Yuki.

I jumped with surprise at the breath that comment brushed across my ear. I turned slowly and found him leaning a bit over me, then he leaned back and said "You are a smoker, aren't you?"

"Yeah, so?"

"You look underage to me."

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter what I look like. I am 19. Could I have one?"

"Don't look like it with your form and hair. Very misleading." Yet cute.

"Are you enjoying this?" I demanded.

"Very much so."

I sat there with a scowl on my face, fuming. I really need a cigarette now.

I heard a buzzing noise and stood to go for my clothes. Yuki grabbed my sleeve.

"Wait."

I turned and found us to be uncomfortable close. Smoky breath was breathed lightly into my face. I stiffened as I was drawn into his eyes. Yuki dropped my arm and stepped back a pace to continue smoking.

"Why do you smoke?"

"Bad habit I picked up recently. Helps to calm the nerves when you're nervous and keeps me from getting too frazzled when I'm writing." I shrugged. "Helps me think."

Yuki nodded and I skittered off to the laundry room once again.

I reached into the dryer and hugged my warm clothes to my chest. I ran to the bathroom and hurriedly changed. I dropped off Yuki's clothes in the laundry basket, then padded into the living room for my coat. I nodded at the man smoking on the couch. "Goodbye, Yuki."

I walked out the door and headed down the street. I stuffed my hands in my pockets and watched my steamy breath puff out into the frigid air. What a strange man. Yet I feel drawn to him, I checked my watch. It's barely eleven; I have three hours until I have to meet Mizuki-san.

I walked home for a nap. Then later walked to the office. Yuki was right. Mizuki had though about it and decided to take some stress off of me by using my old poems.

Boy was I relieved.

"Well," Mizuki chirruped. "I guess you should get straight to work on your book!"