Tattooed

Summary: "I've lost everything to drugs, do you know that?" Sakura told him with tears in her eyes. "The funny thing is I've never even touched a drug in my life and yet it destroyed me. It took everything." She turned to face him then. "Please, don't let it take you away from me. I won't be able to handle it, not this time, not again." S x S.

Author's Note: To: petiteTRINH, xXBlossomofShadowsXx, Fashion Fairy 26 and amelancholicangel. Thank you for reviewing! I love your reviews. deadflo, we missed you this time!

I'm so excited about updating today!

Remember: Smoking Meth is FAR worse than what I've described down here.

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, except the story.

v.

In my field of paper flowers
And candy clouds of lullaby
I lie inside myself for hours
And watch my purple sky fly over me

-Imaginary/Evanescence

Syaoran felt the high with just the first smoke. Too long, it had been far too long. It had been so long that he wondered why in hell he hadn't done this in weeks? He relaxed his head against the wall and brought the pipe to his mouth once more.

Syaoran had given in, and he just didn't care. Finally his body had stopped craving.

Finally.

The world seemed so much more alive, so much more at peace. Everything was finally at ease. The windows seemed to be jarring with the bass of the music he was playing. How loud was the music? Syaoran tried to concentrate to listen...

For hours he tried to listen to the words, but all he heard was numbing murmurs. He touched the window and placed an ear against it, loving the way it resonated against his skin. How long had it been since he'd smoked? He couldn't be sure. The tingling in his blood had yet to go away, so he knew it wasn't time for another.

Voices called out from the corners, the ceiling, and the floors. Syaoran paid no heed to them. He brought out his sketchbook from under the cushions and began.

Syaoran drew furiously in his sheets of paper before he flung the book across the room, eyeing the wall he was sitting opposite to. He sprang up and went into the room where the paints were kept.

The wall was still there when he got back with paint brush in hand.

Now there was a canvas.

*.*

It had been a few days since Sakura had last heard from Syaoran but she didn't think to worry too much. The kids at college had taken up most of her time as their midterms were due next week. Sakura stayed back most of the time and helped them out with after school sessions.

On impulse, however, on one gloomy mid afternoon, Sakura decided to take a half day and check on Syaoran. She didn't realize she was his keeper now, but since the boy had asked for her help (and not in those many words) she decided to see the job through.

Outside his apartment, she fumbled with the buzzer and calculated silently what his apartment number must be. Truth was, she'd never even bothered to ask. They always spent time, if that was what they were doing, either at her house or elsewhere.

A woman came from the inside, opening the apartment door. Sakura smiled at the stranger and entered without hesitation.

Something was wrong, she could feel it now.

*.*

When the tickle felt weak, another smoke brought him back to oblivion. He was so close to making his masterpiece.

Syaoran then brought his brush to the dark blue and smeared it across the wall once more, making it two coats now. Another coat and the wall would be ready.

Syaoran barely felt his breath as his heart sped up to meet his rush, adrenaline pumping and hair standing on edge.

"Look, it's raining," he told himself as he looked out the window. The dull and dry sunset stared back at him as if mocking. No one was there to tell him otherwise. It was raining, he believed it.

"Paint the rain."

Syaoran felt dizzy. He stood still and wondered where the voice had come from. It was a fantastic idea to paint the rain, though. That way—

He heard the pounding in his brain. It made his ears ache. Behind the curtain of music was another commotion... what was that damned noise? Something told him to check the door... that was probably that ringing in his ears.

Fumbling some to open the door, he hit his elbow against the wood just before opening it.

"Sakura!" he exclaimed before bring her off her feet and into his wide arms for a hug.

"You came to see me." He realized, still holding her in his arms. Her eyes were not on him.

"Look at me," he told her as he put her on the floor and stared into her eyes. "You have such green eyes."

"Syaora—"

"And your hands are so soft, like feathers." He brought her hand to his cheek and closed his eyes.

"Syaoran, listen to me."

"Come, you have to see something."

*.*

Sakura knew better than to listen to anything the amber eyed boy was telling her. All of it was another language, as good as gibberish, and it could all be ignored. She focused on him, red eyes, sweating and breathing hard, and how fast he moved away from her to the walls he was painting.

"Oh my—" she brought a hand to her mouth.

"Isn't it stunning? It's raining!" Syaoran told her with a brilliant smile.

Raining?

Sakura took a deep breath before removing her jacket and coat, then after placing her bag on the couch, she spotted a cell phone, pipe and crystals together. Just the sight of it made her heart race. She took a look at Syaoran, back to her while he painted aggressively. With one hand she'd managed to pick up the cell phone, the drug and the pipe and carefully put it away in her bag.

Syaoran was using silver paints now; his fingers brushed the wall proficiently. Sakura watched amazed as the wall before her indeed started to look like rain.

"Come, stand here," he ordered her. Sakura was pulled to stand against the freshly painted wall staining her clothes. Syaoran's eyes reflected the fear in her own.

"Let me trace you."

Sakura knew saying anything else was pointless. She let him bring his fantasy to life.

Let me stay
Where the wind will whisper to me
Where the raindrops
As they're falling tell a story

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