the little things
he had learned to appreciate the little things when he was young;
stray cats in hidden alley-ways,
a cup of strong coffee in the morning,
stolen minutes, blessed, and alone,
the world is a terrible place;
frightening and cruel and unrepentant,
but,
look for the small slivers of peace and,
hoard them,
for when days are exceptionally terrible
.
.
.
11 Lines About Love Or Loss
1. It's what drives us away from others
2. Do you remember when we rode the train home from the beach with sand clinging to our skin and clothes and the scent of the sea embedded into our very souls? We went home, bright-eyed and drained, with cobalt tongues from the shaved ice we ate. When we kissed, I could taste blue raspberry and salt and freedom in your mouth.
3. I dream about you every night
4. Every time I see you, wreathed in a halo of light and sky, I want to drop to my knees and kiss the altar that I have placed you upon. I want to pray to the Gods sitting so arrogantly on their thrones – to you – for my love and devotion to you to be everlasting and infinite.
5. There is a never ending void deep within me, urging me to fill it with-
-you
6. Do you remember when we stumbled out of that bar in Hamburg, Germany? We both reeked of whiskey and sweat and bourbon and sin. We went home, bleary-eyed and laughing, liquid courage flooding our veins and burning our throats. When we kissed, I could taste caramel and smoke and desire in your mouth.
7. Your name is constantly on my tongue, in my mind, destroying my heart
8. Every time I see you, pondering picturesquely vacant at the things only you have witness, I want to fall to me knees and kiss your fears away. I want to pray to the Gods sitting so high up on their thrones – to you – for my love and commitment to you to be strong enough to break you from your memories.
9. I never want to let you go
10. Do you remember when we all fell into bed in a tangle of limbs and familiarity somewhere in a hotel in Austria? We laid there, relaxing in the warmth and tenderness with heavy limbs and soaring hearts – hearts that were free to want and desire and love. When we kissed, and kissed, and kissed the world melted away until it was just the Sun, Storm, and Sky living in Harmony.
11. It's what draws us to others
.
.
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A Café
They are at a café located somewhere in suburban Belgium.
It's a quaint, tiny little thing with tiny windows, tiny tables, tiny chairs, tiny booths, tiny food, and tiny prices. The three of them squeeze into the booth closest to the front window, none of them minding the cramp seating or the elbows digging into their sides and arms.
They are laughing, smiling at something, perhaps deciding on where to go to next or telling each other jokes.
The owner of the café, a tiny old lady with trembling hands but a knowing, understanding smile, brings them three slices of roll cake and three drinks: coffee, tea, and cordial.
They thank her with wide smiles, leaning over one another to sample the cakes and share their chosen drinks and kiss and laugh and live.
They stay until the moon is high in the night sky and the stars are plentiful.
.
.
.
the little things
he had learned to appreciate the little things when he was young;
an improved score,
a home cooked meal in a small kitchen,
a proud smile, fleeting, and empowering,
the world is a terrible place;
frightening and merciless and unrepentant,
but,
look for the small slivers of joy and,
remember them,
for when days are exceptionally terrible
.
.
.
(Secrets)
"Tell me a secret."
- What kind of secret?
"It doesn't matter."
(there is both light and darkness in the depths of your eyes and the line of your shoulders, and I love it, I would not change a single aspect about you for all the riches in the world, your very existence is something I would spend centuries studying even though I would not even begin to understand the entirety that is you.)
- I don't know what to tell you…
"Something. Anything."
(you have haunted my thoughts and visited my dreams ever since the moment I first laid my eyes on you, I have memorized the slant of your nose, the curve of your back, the sweep of your lashes, the feel of your fingers on me and the brilliance of your smile, I would know you in the middle of a crowd even blind, deaf, and numb.)
- Okay… I'm afraid.
"Of what?"
(infinity, nothingness, being alone, crowds of nameless, faceless people, losing you, and you, I'm terrified of you because I love you and because you can destroy me at any moment and I would be okay with that, of dying by your hand, though, I am less afraid of dying than I am losing you, losing you scares me the most.)
- Losing you.
"… Me too…"
- Want to know another secret?
"… Sure."
- I love you.
.
.
.
Do Not Love Me
"I loved you!"
Hayato stares down the woman, unimpressed. She is beautiful; a waterfall of wavy blonde hair cascading down her back and wide, shining caramel eyes and long, tanned legs and rouge lips and dark mascara. She is wearing a blood-red dress that hugs her body in all the right places. Strappy, stiletto heels accentuate her calves and give her height. Her full lips tremble, her perfectly manicured hands shake, her velvety voice warbles when she speaks, but, there are no tears in her eyes. Her makeup is impeccable. Eyes cold and calculating.
He knows what this is – who she is.
She doesn't "love" him.
Not like Tsuna or Natsuki.
Hayato inhales, smoke filling his lungs and calming his rising ire. He exhales, smoke streaming out his mouth and nostrils like a dragon. When he speaks around the cigarette hanging from his mouth – a new brand that he hadn't tried yet, though Natsuki seemed to favor it – it's with an ease and expertise that he has carefully cultivated over many years.
"Stop wasting my time, Bitch."
He knows that she'd tie him down, force him to act and behave a certain way, show him off like he was a beast only she'd manage to tame.
Disgusting.
She draws back, as if slapped. Her eyes widen even more. Her lips quiver. Her hands fly up to her ample chest, as if to hold her breaking heart.
"Why… why are you treating me so… so… callously, Hayato?! I-I thought you… loved me?! We… We were going to get married and have three children and live in a small home in the Italian countryside a-and grow old together!"
By now, they have drawn a crowd of gawking, sympathetic onlookers – sympathetic to her, that is.
Hayato's hand twitches, wanting nothing more than to draw out a stick of dynamite and blast this blonde nuisance out of reality. He inhales once more, and then exhales.
"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about, Bitch."
"D-Don't say that, Hayato…! Please! I-If it's the other people y-you've been with I-I'll forgive you for that! I-I just want to be with you, Hayato! I love you!"
Hayato glances at the clock tower a few blocks over and scowls.
He drops the cigarette to the cobblestone ground, and puts it out with the heel of his shoe before walking towards the woman, a guilty, sorrowful expression on his face. He reaches out to her and she falls into his arms with a sigh of relief, her long nails digging into his back like claws wanting to rip into his flesh. He pulls her flush against his body and shudders in disgust.
To the gaping imbeciles around them, it looks like he's been overcome with grief and shame.
The color of her hair is wrong. Her eyes are not the right shade of brown. Her height isn't what he's used to and the lines and curves of her body are foreign to him.
He buries his nose in her thick hair, just above her ear.
"… Listen here, Bitch. I don't know who the fuck you are, nor which Family you're from, but, you are going to die. You've just put me in a bad mood and if you did any sort of fucking recon on me, then you know just how bad my temper can be… There's a reason why Storms are named after people, you know?"
Hayato pulls away and smiles – an angelic thing that would have made her heart flutter if it wasn't already fluttering in panic. He drops his arms and sweeps past her.
Bombs are detonated, Storm Flames are activated and explosions rip through the town square before he has even turned the corner onto the next street.
.
.
.
the little things
he had learned to appreciate the little things when he was young,
a sister who listened, once upon a time,
a soft melody on a piano,
a loving embrace, faded, and heartbroken,
the world is a terrible place;
frightening and cruel and unforgiving,
but,
look for the small slivers of comfort and,
keep them,
for when days are exceptionally terrible
.
.
.
The Trio
The Storm – Silver hair, shining like the rings and piercings and necklaces and bracelets that cover his arms, fingers, neck, face, and body. Emerald eyes, sharp like the jagged ends of broken glass that can hurt and bleed and kill with a single strike. Smoke, curls around him and seeps into his skin, blood, bones, soul like a possessive phantom. Anger, raging and ugly like the Storms that sweep the coasts.
The Sun – Blond hair, shining like a burning halo around his head, like he was a king, a god, an angel cursed to fall and to walk among mortals. Golden eyes, glowing like the essence of the very Sun and stars were melted down and poured into his gaze, captivating and painful to look at. Cologne, fire, smoke, sunlight, wraps around him and seeps into his clothes, skin, blood, bones like a raging wildfire. Radiance, awe inspiring and ethereal like divinity given a human form.
The Sky – Brown hair, shining like the nostalgic colors of autumn, like he was a spirit of the hearth and security and of a home of time long passed. Brown eyes, a shade darker than pine honey that could turn a dazzling, burning orange, reminiscent of a sunset blazing the expanse of the infinite horizon. Acceptance, wide and spacious and all-encompassing as the clear Sky connects everyone living on Earth embraces him and seeps into his words, gaze, blood, bones like a second skin. Harmony, comforting and soothing like he was someone you could call Home.
.
.
.
the little things – ending
(or find love)
.
.
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Illusions
They meet two people with similar hairstyles and haunted eyes, one foggy evening somewhere in along the border of Belgium and Austria.
They were camping, a newly purchased tent set up behind them and a roaring campfire in front of them, when the duo appeared. Silent and unexpected. Like ghosts emerging from the shadows.
Hayato tensed, ready to drive these two Mists away from his Sky and Sun, but, backed down when Natsuki and Tsuna simply smiled and offered the pair some food and drinks and a place to spend the evening.
They accepted, moving in complete unison until they were seated, safely, on the other side of the fire.
"Tsuna."
"Natsuki"
"… Hayato."
"… Mukuro."
"… Chrome…"
They ate canned tomato soup and toasted slices of bread with goat cheese for dinner before roasting marshmallows over the campfire.