I got this inspiration from the book "East". I really love this collection of mine! I have so many ideas and so little time to type though… I have more than 20 one-shots that I would like to add to this collection, but I can hardly find more time. I would also greatly appreciate ideas from the dear readers that never seem to review…T.T

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Ever sense he had returned, she had always been beside him. What ever he was going through, she was there, seeing him through. It was not a talkative relationship they held, but more of a silent understanding between the two. He understood her motive and slowly let her into his world, even though he was not totally comfortable at first.

This thing…What he did, started about a month ago. He just needed to see her, and could bare it no longer. Rushing toward her house, so far away, he had pushed through her bedroom window. Not knowing what he was doing, he had climbed into her bed and comforted himself with the fact that he was there with her…And that he was safe.

She had first discovered that she had a nighttime visitor at the second day he came. She first had been extremely shocked, having sensed that it was him… However, she too understood his need, and she let him be there with her. There was always a distance between the two on her queen sized bed. She let it be. There was always an enchantment in her bedroom when ever he entered. She let it be. There was just that magic there that told her not to speak and she did not. There was also that instinct that told her that she didn't have to acknowledge him or even see that it was he who really was there. She felt it and she let it be.

He found it comforting that she accepted him…However strange the deeds he did were. He found her silence whenever he entered opening, he never found it tense or uncomfortable. He liked to think that she would like him for whoever he was, and he clung onto that hope. He respected that she didn't ask him what his motive was. He was glad that she let him be. She saved him from the embarrassing situation of explanation.

Sometimes he felt that he should talk to her, and that she was waiting for him to be ready. But whenever he flew into her room, there was just that sense that told him that she didn't need him to talk. And that she was pleased with his progress.

She had that strong sense that told her not to speak to him. Just to accept him. She did. He found it cute that he would come to her, even if they never talked about it when they met in the daylight. She, every night, would feel the change of weight on the soft mattress when he came. Sometimes she even would wait for him. Every morning when she woke up, her midnight-haired visitor would always be gone. But there would always be evidence that he had been there…The crumpled sheet on the other side of her bed. The first time she had tried to talk to him, she couldn't get her tongue to make a sound. It was just it.

Sometimes, she would let her window stay open through the whole night. And when the moonlight shone through the window, supposedly should have illuminated their faces, but she would laugh in the mornings about how she could never see his face even with the moonlight shining brightly… She had noticed that when ever he came, the crickets ceased chirping and that her room was covered in a sense of cool comfort. She loved it.

He would watch her at times…When the moon shone brightly; he knew she had tried to look at him… What she didn't know was that, she was too bright to look at when the moon shined…And even when the darkness covered the skies, her face was still an angel's. He loved the soft glow of her rosette hair.

There was an acceptance between them. Something neither had the heart to break. It was their bond. It was their relationship. To cut the ties of the ritual would be the severing of their understanding. Both accepted it. She would wait until he was ready, and he knew that he would speak to her one day…

It was just them.

Argh! After I finished typing this one-shot, I felt kind of displeased with it. Even though I should write for my own amusement, I find myself craving for the attention from readers…

R&R!

Aizy