a/n: This didn't turn out quite like I wanted it to. I accidentally wrote it for two 30kisses themes instead of one and one. Blech. So I had to worm in the 30hugs' theme in there. I /think/ it sounds okay.

Oh, and it is supposed to be confusing. So… if it makes no sense it is because his thoughts are all over the place.

Title: Drip
Author/Artist: Allen Haverstock
Pairing: Kurogane/Fai D. Flourite
Fandom: Tsubasa RESERvoir CHRONiCLES
Theme: Kisses #19 – red, Hugs #13–euthanasia
Disclaimer: If I owned them they wouldn't be nearly as hot and smexy and mysterious because I suck like that. Fai and Kuro-tan are owned by the lovely clump of potatoes called CLAMP.

Warnings: Possible spoilers. Okay, not really. Now that I think about it, it doesn't spoil anything. Shoot. I wanted to have an actual warning for once. ;A;

Okay… -deep breath- HURRY UP WITH CHAPTIRE 126 ALREADY!

Dedicated to the book 'Lovely Bones' by Alice Sebold for making me have a very introspective day.

And to Grape Fanta.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

"If you want to die that badly I'll kill you myself!"

Yes, I do.

He wished he could open his mouth and form the words, but his lips remained unmoving.

Please kill me.

Euthanasia –

End my suffering.

"So until then, live."

No.

No, he thought vehemently.

You can save my life, but you can't make me live.

The words fought their way to the forefront of his turbulent mind, but he knew they would never pass between his lips. He felt his body trembling with exhaustion, and the beads of sweat that trickled down his skin and soaked his sun-kissed hair.

Drip. Drip. Drip

His thoughts flittered about, never staying in one place – just running, running, running. Memories flashed before his eyes. Eye, he corrected himself. He had only one eye now. Only one reminder of what he had lost in that land of ice and snow. Only one reminder of what he lost to the omnipresent chill that seeped and settled deep into the bones of all the world's unfortunate inhabitants.

Unfortunate inhabitants like his sister.

His sister who would hug him occasionally, and kiss him even less, but whose every little action or mannerism betrayed her caring nature despite her seemingly indifferent exterior.

His sister was the first to care for him and the last to leave.

His sister had had eyes like his.

Eyes that were blue, blue, blue like the sky he never saw. Eyes that were a reminder to his neighbours of what they had always wanted, never had, and never could have.

Eyes that he learned to love and cherish if only because it linked him to the one person who had cared for him and loved him as he needed, when he had needed it the most. Eyes that he could look at in a mirror, or on water, or on the cold, cold ice, and remember what it felt like to be loved, if only for a while.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Red.

That was what he remembered the most. The first thing that caught his attention in the strange, dreary other-world he escaped to was red. Twin pools of the deepest red he could imagine.

Red like the sunrise. Red like the sunset. Red like a burning flame. Red like the sweetest flower.

Red like blood.

Red like the blood flowing from the wrists above him; dripping down his throat and down his cheek and down, down, down until it seeped into the fabric-covered arm that hugged him tightly to a fabric-covered chest where he could hear the strong heart contained within beating away, pushing the crimson liquid of life throughout its body once more and signaling another moment passing.

Another moment closer to death.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Drowning.

That's what he was. He was drowning.

Drowning, Drowning, Drowning.

Drowning in emotion; in fear; in pain; in memories.

In blood.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Drowning, Drowning, Drowning.

Drowning in emotion; in fear; in pain; in possibilities.

In love.

a/n: Totally played football/soccer today. I suck so bad. But so do all of my friends, so it was really, really fun. We will be playing again next Saturday.

Totally stayed home from a huge, huge like, city-wide fiesta to write this. And I don't really care for it as much as I hoped. Damn. I had so many plans for this. Blech. I shall post this now and get it over with.

Better to peel a Band-Aid of quickly, eh?

(Although I like pulling them off slowly. Haha. Oh, great, now I am a masochist. My life keeps getting better and better.

At least I have my Fanta Uva)

Oh noes! This is totally wayyy shorter than I thought it was -pouts-. You are probably all thankful, too. Blah.

Yeah for periodical moodswings