xiii. Die For You
Subtitle: Bonnie and Clyde
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"I love you." "Yes." he said, smiling softly. "I figured you would."
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In retrospect, their first meeting all those years ago seemed like it was fated to Natsume─and he really wasn't someone who believed in superstition, fate, and destiny. The thing was, Mikan had always had the ability to have him question all he knew, to make him doubt everything, to believe in things he had formerly dubbed nonsense or impossible.
Natsume had had a sad childhood. His parents and his baby sister died in a car crash he was the lone survivor of. Devastated, and at the age of eight, he was send to an orphanage, not having the option to be raised by relatives, since they were either dead or had been estranged many years prior. The marriage of his parents had not been viewed as desirable; his mother's parents had disowned her, his father's parents long since deceased. Both his mother and his father had no siblings.
Lonely, and prone to lashing out at others, never letting anyone get close, Natsume came to spend some miserable years in an orphanage, equally ostracized and feared by his peers. Not minding it (or so he told himself), he became a loner, learning to depend on himself. Until one day, they brought in a new kid. She was tiny, had long, brown, unruly hair and large brown eyes. Those eyes seemed to dominate her face. When they caught Natsume's gaze, they avoided it.
Clinging to the police officer's hand, she refused to let it go, trembling with fear. Natsume, now thirteen years old, sneered at her timidity. He liked to sort the people around him into two categories; the prey and the hunters. Natsume didn't have any difficulties labelling her as prey. She was like a pretty canary, and one of the cats around here would surely eat her alive sooner rather than later.
At night, Natsume liked to climb out of his window, sitting on the roof, staring at the stars and listening to the noises of the night. That night, as he listened to the cicada's singing their songs, he heard an altogether unfamiliar sound emerging from somewhere below him. It sounded like someone was choking, or sobbing. Curious, Natsume went to investigate, realizing the crying noises came from the window under his own, which was slightly ajar.
Lowering himself onto the ledge, he climbed through the window into the dark room, his body blocking the moon light from streaming in.
The sobbing went on, the one producing the noise apparently not aware of his presence. Approaching the bed, Natsume saw long, brown hairs spilling from underneath the blanket. Reaching for it, he was about to touch it, when suddenly the crying stopped and huge eyes peeked up at him. It was the little girl from earlier, the little canary.
Smirking, Natsume stared down at her, waiting for her to flinch at his presence, to shy away. She didn't. Natsume was surprised─she must have see his red eyes earlier, so why wasn't she appalled and disgusted? Everyone was, after all. Weren't his red eyes sings of the demons living within him? No one else he knew was cursed with such a deformity; red eyes. If not for his behavior, he would have been shunned for the strangeness of his eyes for sure. Oftentimes, Natsume found himself wishing he had been born with normal-colored eyes. Ordinary brown, or steely grey, or dreamy blue.
The girl slowly sat up in her bed, the blanket falling away from her, revealing her old, erstwhile white, but now grey, night-gown.
"You came to me." she whispered, and her voice was tiny. She sounded in awe. Extending her hands in his direction, she told him. "You found me."
Not being able to withstand the pull of her eyes, he took her hands, and let her pull him towards her. He stopped next to the bed, and she leaned her head against his stomach. "You saved me."
And in that moment, Natsume knew they belonged together, were made for each other. Someone had sent her to him, so she would ease his pain. Someone had sent him to her, so he would catch her fall.
"You found me." he breathed, and when she scooted over in the bed, making room for him, he slid in, and hugging her to his chest, they fell asleep.
Silently, Natsume vowed that he would never let her cry again. He was hers now. She had seen into his red eyes, seen the loneliness and desperation, and had made them her own. She was everything he needed; he was everything she would need. They were an union. They were Natsume and Mikan. They were each other's family, since their own had abandoned them.
There was a three-year gap between them. But that didn't keep them from doing everything together. When he was sixteen and she thirteen, they made a pact.
"We should run away together." They were lying in the hammock in the garden together, Mikan's head resting on his shoulder, he read a book.
Arching a dark eyebrow, he put the book down, and looked at her, not saying anything. The stare of his intense red eyes unsettled and startled many, but it never bothered Mikan. She liked the feeling of being watched by Natsume.
"I concur." Natsume said, picking his book back up. Pouting, Mikan lifted her head, annoyed by his lack of enthusiasm. "Don't you think we should talk about it?"
"What's there to talk about, really?"
Snatching the book from his hands, she sat up in the hammock, so abruptly that it started swaying. "Oh, so you think..." turning the book around to look at the title "Wuthering Heights is more interesting than me, do you?"
His shrug infuriated her even more. "Well, then..." Dropping the book into the grass, she started tickling him, making him squirm. "Mikan, don't...the hammock." But she followed his words no heed, just kept poking and tickling him.
Of course, their movements did nothing to steady the hammock, and so they ended up tumbling to the ground, Natsume landing on top of Mikan, pinning her to the ground.
"Oww." Mikan moaned, petting her head. Natsume looked unconcerned, not bothering to get up, staring down at Mikan's face, inches from his.
"Serves you right, silly." he scoffed, picking leaves and grass out of her long tresses. "But since you disrupted my reading anyway, we might as well talk about our future." He narrowed his eyes, looking down at the breathtakingly pretty girl squirming below him, moving in a way she was probably not aware affected him physically. (He was sixteen after all.)
"Stop moving." he ordered her. When instead of complying, she grinned slyly, he took her hands and pinned them over her head, his chest pressed to hers, which he was also hyper aware of. Swallowing, he stared down at his girl. "I promise you." he began. "That I will never leave you. That someday, we will be together, and have a better life, the one we always deserved but were never granted."
Mikan nodded, and Natsume could tell she was listening intently. "And yes, someday, soon, we'll leave, but not yet. Just a few more years, and we'll leave all of this behind." Nuzzling her neck, he breathed in the smell of her, while she stroked his hair. "Okay." she acquiesced , and he could tell that she understood.
They lay there for a while, breathing steadily, enjoying each other's company, the security of knowing they had each other, until Mikan said "I really need to cut you hear soon, it's growing too long."
There was never a doubt that their love for one another, their innocent, childish love, would someday turn into more. That they would be in love like adults. And that day came when Mikan was fourteen, and Natsume seventeen, and it was like a seamless transition from a bond that made them more than simple friends, into something that made them into more than mere lovers.
Of course, Natsume never even looked at other girls, much to their chagrin. And Mikan didn't even talk to other boys if she could help it, so most weren't surprised when the started being more than what they had been before.
They had always been touching each other a lot for two people who weren't dating, they were usually seen together holding hands, they slept in the same bed at the orphanage (which was kind of an open secret. It had been tried to separate the two of them, even banishing Mikan into a room that was as far removed from Natsume's as possible. But they still wound up finding a way not to sleep on their own.)
So one day, when someone looked at Mikan the wrong way (children are cruel, and of course, it was easy making fun of the quiet, introverted girl who never spoke to anyone but the gorgeous boy with the red eyes), Natsume hit them in the face, and both Mikan and he ended up at the headmaster's. They both stayed quiet, never saying a word, while he chewed them out, and the whole thing ended with Natsume being suspended for a week.
Mikan and Natsume decided that they'd had enough of school for that day, went back to the orphanage, and on their way there, Mikan saw Natsume's bruised knuckle.
"You're hurt." she exclaimed, dismayed, and gently took his hand into hers, stroking the raw skin. Looking up, she saw that Natsume was frowning, biting his lip. "Does it hurt very badly?" Mikan asked, and her voice was barely more than a whisper. She always spoke softly, quietly, but Natsume didn't mind, he always understood what she said. Even if she didn't say it, he understood what she thought.
"No." he said. "Pretending to be brave, are we?", she teased him, giving him one of those smiles only he got to see. "I can see it in your eyes."
And without ever breaking eye contact, she kissed his hand, her lips grazing the aching skin, and her hot breath scorching the stinging skin. Natsume's red eyes clouded over, and they both seemed suspended in time for a while, her kissing his hand, their eyes locked in a conversation they seemed to be having in their heads. Then, in one swift motion, Natsume pressed Mikan against a near wall, and he was kissing her. It was not a sweet kiss, it was a passionate kiss, giving way to all the pent-up emotions that had been building up within them over the years.
Their lips met, their hands clinging to each other, Mikan's nails pressing into the skin of his neck painfully, Natsume's grip almost crushing her rips. And they couldn't let go, they were glued to one another, as his lips explored hers, and they melted into one being. He bit down on her bottom lip, eliciting a groan, and she buried her hands in his hair, pulling his head closer, closer to hers, her tongue meeting his.
People passing by avoided their eyes, unable to look at the couple so lost in their passionate embrace, kissing each other as if they hadn't seen each other in years.
And Natsume and Mikan couldn't stop, holding onto each other like they were drowning, revelling in the smell, the feel, the touch, the knowledge of the other, the one person they could trust, the only person they had ever revealed their true selves to.
And the kisses said "Why haven't we done this before?" and "Our mouths, our hands, our skin were meant to be doing this."
Oblivious to the world around them, Natsume slid his hands beneath her clothes, exploring places they had never been to before, places not meant to be explored in the middle of the street, and Natsume felt delirious, cheered on by the noises his Mikan made. As his mouth kissed every spot of her exposed skin, his fingers played with her belly button, and the button of her skirt.
As he made to open them, she pushed him away, breathing hard, shaking her head. "No, stop. Not here, my love." Interlacing their fingers, she pulled him close again, so close their foreheads touched, and gave him a dazzling smile. "That was nice." she said, her lips hot and dry from kissing. Their breath was mingling, their hearts beating the same rhythm.
"Yes." Natsume agreed, his voice husky.
"We should do it more often." she suggested, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Taking a strand of her long, brown hair in his hands, he kissed it. It was glowing gold in the sun, and her soft curls now reached past her hip bones since she hadn't had them cut in forever.
When he was eighteen and she fifteen, they lived in an old abandoned factory, with only each other and a few blankets to warm themselves. They'd run away on his birthday, and he was pretty sure the police had been looking for them the first few months.
By now, Mikan was just another under-age runaway, lost in the system.
They liked living alone, even though it wasn't comfortable. They spent most of their days idling away, making love, and eating stolen food. Natsume was a passable thief, and most other homeless people their age left them alone. It wasn't pretty, but it was enough for them.
One winter morning, they were lying in their makeshift bed, their legs entangled, Mikan's head on his chest, and he was kissing the digits of her left hand. "We can't stay here much longer." she mused, her head rising with his chest every time he breathed in.
"Hm." he said. Having kissed every part of her hand thoroughly, he was now moving on to her wrist and arm. "Sometimes I pretend I'm someone else." Mikan confessed suddenly, causing Natsume to stop. "Why's that." he asked, a little hurt.
Laughing, she swatted at him. "Oh, don't look at me like that. Of course, you're always there with me. I just mean that sometimes I imagine I'm some kind of queen, a very rich one, and you're my king, and we live in our own, secluded kingdom. It's silly."
"You would be the prettiest queen that ever lived." he told her, grinning. "Oh, you charmer." she laughed, and rolled around so she was now lying on her back, only their arms touching. Pulling the blanket up to her neck, she went on. "Or sometimes I pretend we live on a little island, away from everyone else. Just us."
Ignoring his snickering, she sighed. "And sometimes I imagine us living like Bonny and Clyde, you know. Wouldn't that be romantic?"
Natsume perked up. "I like that idea." he said, pondering it. "I really like it. But do you know what I like even more?" Not awaiting her answer, he let his hand wander beneath the blanket. Lightly touching the skin of her breasts, her stomach, her hip bones, her thighs.
Gasping, Mikan gave him an annoyed glare. "It's impossible to have a serious conversation with you." she scolded him.
"Don't pretend like you're not enjoying it." he replied nonchalantly, his hand moving beneath the blanket, putting his nimble fingers to good use. "That's...not the...point." Mikan retorted, trying to concentrate. Kissing her shoulder, he smiled at her, enjoying watching her squirm and writhe in pleasure.
"Are you done yet?"
Mikan could tell by the tone of his voice that Natsume was annoyed. She hardly minded though, since she knew Natsume loved to be angry with her. And she loved to rile him up just as much. (It came naturally to them, really.)
"Not yet." she chirped. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she pulled the hair rollers out of her hair. She had naturally curly hair anyway, but she loved the long, bouncy locks hair roller made possible. After applying powder to her face, she picked up her cherry red lipstick, the most expensive one you could find, and carefully applied one layer. After that, she dabbed at her lips with a cloth, and applied another layer.
Standing up, she surveyed her outfit. Her legs were clad in tights, her feet in black pumps, and she was wearing a ruby red petticoat dress, the one she loved because it was the colour of Natsume's eyes.
She grabbed her purse, smiled, and looked inside. Her small revolver was inside. A lot could be said about her, but at least she'd never committed a robbery dressed badly. Cathy and Heathcliff, as the media had dubbed them, were always impeccably dressed.
Slipping her hand into Natsume's, Mikan gave him the smiled reserved for him, a softness in her eyes the people she threatened with her revolver never got to see.
"I'm ready, let's go, my love."
As they got into their Cadillac, she slipped on a pair of sunglasses by Chanel, and once again reflected how lucky she and Natsume were. Granted, they never got to stay too long in one place, but that didn't bother her, since she'd never known a permanent home. The closest thing to a home she'd ever known was Natsume. And yes, their lives were dangerous, but as long as they were together, nothing could really harm them. Together in life, together in death. There was an unspoken pact between them; if one of them happened to be shot by the police, the other one wouldn't be far behind.
As their car now pulled up in front of a bank and they entered it, pulling their guns, Natsume called "This is a hold-up; give us all your money and valuables!", Mikan revelled in the power she felt. No one could say her life was boring. Mikan lived for the rush of being in charge, for the possibility of being followed by police cars. Maybe this was the last hour of her life, maybe her last day. But so what? She had Natsume, and that was all she needed.
"Give me that ring." she told a well-dressed lady who looked scared. She wore a beautiful diamond ring. "Isn't it pretty?" she asked Natsume in a sing-song voice as she slipped it on. Natsume only shrugged, and handed Mikan a bag with banknotes and bills.
Only a few minutes had passed since they'd entered the bank, but Mikan was getting twitchy, and the clerk was taking too long. "Hurry up." she commanded, her voice still quiet, but it was enough to intimidate every single person in the building with its calm strength.
Something behind Natsume moved, a middle-aged man trying to sneak up on him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." she said loudly, turning to him, pouting slightly. "Trying to play the hero, are we? I don't think so." And with to the viewers surprising agility and speed, as well as remarkable aim, she shot him in the knee.
They usually thought she was too soft because she was a girl, and a pretty one at that. But she didn't like people messing with her Natsume. "Let's go." She had to raise her voice, something she hated, to be heard over the man's whimpering and a women's sobbing. The noises grated on her nerves.
"Fine.", Natsume huffed. "But then don't start complaining if it isn't as much as we'd hoped."
Slowly, they made their way to the door, their guns still trained on the people in the room. As her back touched the door, she winked at them, sending them a cheeky smile and a hand kiss. "It was nice meeting everyone. Have a nice day!"
Once in the car, they sped away, Natsume stepping down hard on the gas pedal to accelerate. Feeling the air on her face, Mikan threw back her head and laughed cheerfully. This was freedom. This was living life to the fullest.
Turning to Natsume, she beamed. "So, what should we do next?"
They strike again. Yesterday, the infamous robber couple dubbed by the media Cathy and Heathcliff reportedly robbed another bank. Witnesses say, the whole ordeal was over in under five minutes, and the two of them drove off in a black Cadillac. One person was harmed. If you have further information regarding the whereabouts of the robber duo, please contact the police.
"What do you think does it feel like to die?" Twelve-year-old Mikan asked Natsume, staring out the window into the deserted street. "I wouldn't know, would I?" He sounded sleepy, lying on the bed about to drift off to sleep.
"Do you figure you'll feel alone when you die?" Mikan went one, walking over to the bed and sitting down next to Natsume.
"Probably." he murmured, his eyes falling shut. In his mind, he was already dreaming of summer, and Mikan dressed in a swimsuit.
The sound of sobbing shock him out of his reverie. Mikan was sitting next to him, crying into his pillow which she was pressing to her face.
"What's the matter with you." he asked bewildered, scooting closer to her and pulling her into an embrace. "I don't want to ever be without you! And I don't want you to be without me! What will you do if I die suddenly? Won't you be lost without me?"
"I certainly will." he retorted drily. "Who would be there to cry on my shoulder, if you were to be gone? And whom were I to comfort? My excellent abilities as a listener and comforter would be wasted. What a shame."
"You're making fun of me!" Mikan exclaimed angrily, shoving him away half-heartedly. Already she was smiling again.
"No." he said, sobering up. "I won't allow you to die before me. And I won't die before you. We'll just have to go at the same time, right? If one of us was to die, the other one would follow suit."
"Promise?" Mikan asked, her lower lip quivering, though Natsume wasn't sure what she was crying about now. "Of course." he reassured her, and embraced her when she threw herself at him, crying again. "My Natsume." she sobbed. "I love you."
"Yes." he said, smiling softly. "I figured you would." But before she could hit him for his unfeeling reply, he added "I love you."
A/N: Jesus, for some reason I'm best at writing relationships that are unhealthy af and dangerously co-dependant. Idk, but for some reason I find those are the most interesting, even though they are not necessarily romantic. Well, I find the dynamics fascinating, and I have a morbid desire to write destructive and dark kind of romances, there must be something wrong with me. I think the names Cathy and Heathcliff as aliases are quite fitting actually, because those two are one of the most fucked up pairs in literature.
As for the setting; well, it's not set in contemporary times, I left it kind of ambiguous though. Maybe the 1950s?
And the end is so anti-climactic, sorry bout that. The beginning is better than the end anyway. Written 11/03/2013.
Thanks for all the positive feedback and lovely reviews I received for the last one shot. It meant so much to me, and I hope you will like this one as well. Thank you, thank you, thank you for sticking with me and the outlandish scenarios I drop these characters into. ;)
