Author's Note: Man, I have the weirdest ideas. I don't even know if this makes sense, but I like it.
Warning: Slight yaoi. Just a kiss, don't worry.
Light sat upon a bed in a room he did not remember.
It was not that he did not recognize it. The room had a vague familiarity to it, as though Light had been there before, and that this had happened before but it really hadn't, no matter how much he believed it had.
Was it déjà vu? That seemed most likely, but at the same time it didn't.
Light thought for a moment that someone else was remembering this room for him, and telling him that they remembered it and making him remember it, but not really remember. But that made no sense, and Light wondered where his reason had gone, and how he had gotten to this room and on this bed.
There were no windows, no open doors, no lamps. Nothing to illuminate the room. And yet it was not dark. The room was grey, like fog, though everything was clear.
A door opened. Or at least, he thought one did. He felt it. Someone had gone through something and was in the room with him.
He could not see them, but he felt them. And they had the same feeling with them as the room. Light remembered them, but did not remember.
He wondered if anything would be certain while he was in this room.
They were moving towards him. Again, he did not see it. He only felt it. But he knew it was happening. But did he really know? He couldn't tell.
It seemed that he had been right, for the person was now in front of him. He assumed they had walked in front of him, but he thought that they had suddenly appeared, without warning or first stepping into view. Light was not alarmed, though he thought he maybe ought to be. Another thing he was not sure of.
The person was grey, as the room was, yet Light could feel the colors, bland as they were. Black, white, more grey. Not colors. Shades. Not even the skin had color. It could only be described as pale.
The person did not move, slouched over as he was, horrendous, monstrous in his posture. Light thought he saw black wings on the person's back, a wide grin flash across the faceless skin, but he was not sure. Human? Maybe not.
But the wings and grin weren't there. Just the person.
And in an instant Light felt an explosion inside himself, a feeling of great recollection, in which he remembered everything and knew where he was and who stood in front of him and knew that this was who he had been waiting for.
But this feeling made as little sense as everything else, as Light did not remember. He had only the feeling. He still did not know where he was or who this person was, and he did not even know whether he had been waiting for this person or not. But he felt as though he had. But he did not know. He did not know. How could he put faith in just these feelings?
Feelings weren't enough. They were never enough.
Feelings could take over the body and control someone against their will, even if it was their will that was controlling them.
I can't afford to develop feelings. That's how most idiots screw up.
Hadn't he said that once? He felt as though he had.
That was when Light realized. Something was different. Something had changed as Light had been lost in his thoughts.
Something wet was streaming down his cheeks, and someone was wiping the wetness away. The person in front of him was closer, their finger at his cheek, wiping it away.
The person's face was not visible to Light, even as they drew closer. And somehow, that hurt.
Feeling. Feeling.
"I hate myself," Light wanted to say. But the feelings were too overwhelming. Light couldn't move his lips to speak.
The person drew in even closer until it seemed like their faces would collide. They did. The person was kissing him. Light couldn't move his lips to kiss.
Why did he hate himself? Why did he want to? Did he hate himself for what he had done, for who he had hurt? He couldn't remember either now. He didn't understand. He had always understood everything, but now nothing made sense.
Maybe he just hated these feelings. So much feeling. Was it emotional? Physical? Spiritual? Light couldn't even classify it.
But these lips on his were healing him. He could feel it.
And as he began to feel it, they weren't there anymore.
The room was empty, save him and that damned bed. And grey. So much grey.
Light thought he cried. He couldn't know.