"Out of his mind, the weight pushes him whispering
Must have been out of his mind
Midday delusions of pushing this out of his head, maybe out of his mind
All he knows if he can't relieve it it grows and so it goes"
He doesn't say anything. He never says anything, not during these times. In these times, while the sun is long gone as the moon seems to shine endlessly, his weapons aren't his sharp, mocking words. His weapons are skin and sanity… Or loss of.
He comes like a slither, a ghost, a hiss escaped from clenched teeth and tightened lips. His whole self, his essence, makes everything that is not him irrelevant and imperfect. In his purist beauty, he is Life Incarnate.
You wish him away, because what else can you do? If you acknowledge him, he'll consume you. He'll become you. You will no longer be "you"; you will be "you" and "him". You will be a "we", and you can't stand that thought. So as his colder-then-they-should-be hands rum downs your sides and rests on your hips, you wish him away. But you know that even that whispered wish isn't at all honest. If he was gone from you, the loss would be something incomprehensible. So you don't try.
He's cold against your warmth. He presses down into you, makes you disappear from being. His touches inspire fire that can never be quite felt.
This is maddening, maddening.
And he's taking you, and you're biting your lip, except not really, because he doesn't exist, and you don't exist, it's only the moon that makes the colors spin in your mind and – oh god, you're burning alive but he's cool, always cold and this can't be real because he isn't there-
And you open your eyes. Nothing's there save you and the ghost of touches. The sun is just rising, the sky almost blood-red in its rebirth. His voice, his ever-present and silent voice floats through your mind in an all too familiar way.
King, you're going crazy.
And you think that maybe, for once, you agree with him.
song: "The Bird and the Worm"
pairing: Ichigo and Hollow Ichigo