"I'm only here because my brother is making me do it."
"How did your previous therapy sessions go?" She always kept her voice monotone.
Bakura shifted in his seat. "I lied to them. Told them what they wanted to hear so I could get out of sessions sooner."
Her gaze flickered between a notepad and himself. "Why not engage?"
The paralegal crossed his arms and shrugged. "Not to be insensitive, but I was sent to those over the deaths of my immediate family. There was no bringing them back, so what was the point? I wanted to get it over with."
"And now, are you going to try?" A pointed look was thrown his way.
"Yes because someone living is on the line." He did not specify whether he meant Marik or Ryou. "I also wanted to avoid getting medicated. I still do."
"But you, as you described yourself, self-medicate?" He could tell she wasn't buying his bullshit.
"I never said it was logical, but it works for me," he explained. Excuses.
"Does it?" She sounded much calmer despite her clear rebuttal.
He frowned. He hated when she did this. "No."
"If you'd allow me, I'd like to help you find sustainable solutions."
His only saving grace was Marik seeing him, but it just wasn't the same.
It was odd; that tension was gone. Was it because the deed was finally done? The chase satiated, so he could move on like he usually did with the rest of them? Or like his desires, did the lack of emotion represent Marik's current hatred towards him? Both were equally possible.
Another annoying notification sounded. He checked his phone, saw it wasn't Marik and immediately put it down. He'd been ignoring about six different messages across multiple platforms.
Thankfully, Marik had not blocked him on anything, or if he did, Marik would unblock him not long after.
"He hates your guts," was the only information the less stable blond could tell him.
It was his fifth session with the same therapist.
"I don't know what started it all. It slowly turned into an obsession. Something to overcome." They were talking about Marik. Bakura leaned back into the chair, a little more relaxed than their first meeting.
"Have you ever fixated on someone before?" she asked.
"Not on people. If I ever did, it was short-lived. I never idealised anyone. Everyone is capable of terrible things."
"Interesting." He heard a scribble. He'd said something noteworthy.
"So then I gave in. No matter how much I indulged, everything still feels so hollow." It helped to look at the carpet when he said these things.
"Because he doesn't love you back?" The way she made those comments with ease irritated him.
"It's not love."
"Why not?" She sounded too confident. "You said it yourself, you blocked it out, so how would you know?"
"It wouldn't feel this awful," he replied, hiding his tone.
"A lot of good things can feel awful at times." He hated the way she was beginning to argue against him. Weren't therapists supposed to mainly sit there and listen?
"I'm sorry, what am I paying you for again?" he snapped. She remained unaffected.
"It's my job to help you face uncomfortable truths."
"I'm not ready for it."
"No one is ever really ready for it."
"I'm especially not ready for it right now," he emphasised.
She stared for a moment before replying. "Understood. Continue."
"Relating to that, I convinced myself it was another challenge. What else could it be? Well, in my mind, you know." Self-reflection was… he'd rather run a marathon on LSD.
"What did you find challenging about him?" Was Marik all about power?
"The fact that he could say no."
She raised a concerned brow at that.
"No…no. Not like that. I meant that most encounters…tend to go as expected." Bakura was terrible at explaining this. "People interact with me in a certain way. He didn't."
"Sounds like you have a pathological need to control everything." The bouts of OCD.
"I do." There was no point in denying it.
"Did it ever work?" His relationship with Marik.
"It used to."
"What do you do instead now?" Predictability.
"I'm seeing you."
Marik continued to ignore his texts. He was determined to fix this though. He refused to let this be the end. He would prove his therapist wrong. He'll fucking prove himself wrong, too.
After a fortnight, Ryou had chosen to forgive him, but he had a list. Of course. Most of it involved them spending time together. Ryou said he owed him something and he was right.
They were in a bar in Shoreditch, Natalie, Ryou, friends and acquaintances.
Natalie ordered tequila shots and offered one to Bakura. He made the dumb decision to say, "I'll get this round." He struggled a little to pull out his phone and tapped it against the card machine.
He fucking hated the taste, but he quickly swallowed after the four of them toasted…something. He bit down on the lime, noticing he barely tasted either liquid mixing in his mouth. He must have been drunk. Ryou certainly was.
He was mainly chatting with Ryou and Natalie at this point, the two having previously met multiple times. He never realised how enmeshed his social circles were until that moment. Glancing to the side, he spotted the sibling of another friend. He'd even stayed with their parents for Christmas before. Fucking hell, he spent more time with other families than his own father.
Ryou was right. For someone who hated people, Bakura knew a lot of them and acted accordingly. Like a strange survival instinct. The urge to disappear returned as James said it would. He went missing sporadically for months at a time. This time, he wouldn't. Maybe. He always came back.
Ryou was slurring loudly over the music, "People think you're an asshole cause you are, but you're also nice. I notice." His attention was brought back to his own small group.
Natalie agreed, "Yeah. Sometimes you gotta have that separation. That's how you know you really like each other." She crookedly pointed an index at his chest for emphasis.
Since when did they start talking about Marik? They had no idea why Bakura had pissed him off and he really couldn't explain the whole dissociative identity disorder to them. Only James knew the briefest amount. They just took to face value that Bakura had somehow been a dick to him. All he said to either was, "I know."
At that point Natalie ordered the second round. "Might as well," Ryou said before they downed the shot.
The conversation continued, jumping through random topics. He couldn't remember any of them. He found himself alone with Nat at the bar after shot number three.
"It will be fine mate. He'll probably come back. If he doesn't, it's not meant to be. You'll find someone," she started telling him with a pat on the back.
He nodded, unsure how to respond. He didn't have to as she kept going. "There are plenty of fish in the sea. After all the rubbish." Not the ocean talk. Internally, he rolled his eyes. "Not going to lie, there is so much rubbish to wade through." She motioned swimming with her free arm. "But it's not completely hopeless."
"That's not as comforting as you think."
"Really. You're likeable. Rough but likeable. You're attractive. You'll be fine." This conversation was slowly killing him on the inside, but the sentiment was also very dulled by all the drinks he'd been consuming over the past six hours.
"Mate I know." He thought for a moment before adding, "But I want him." They'd already crossed the emotional stage of the night. He might as well commit. "I fucked it up. I mean, he's really complicated and that doesn't help." He wasn't sure if he was wishing to remember or forget this conversation in the morning.
"You seem more laid back and somehow more stressed at the same time lately." She touched his hair for a moment, slipping into a new direction. "Are you going to cut it again?" It was grazing his shoulders now.
"Hmm. Maybe."
A mutual friend came around. "We're going soon. Last one." They gathered for their fourth shot. Quickly, Bakura finished his other drink before heading out for some food, splitting a burger with Ryou.
The following morning, he woke up on Natalie's sofa. They spent hours at the kitchen table, forcing conversation through their awful hangovers. He ate half a toast and couldn't stomach anything more. She struggled just as much.
"Fucking tequila," she groaned.
"I'm going home soon," he kept repeating despite feeling zero energy or will to do so. "After lunch," he corrected.
"There's a Gail's nearby."
Nothing sounded appealing. "Sure."
They continued to converse about random topics before Nat decided to bring up a more serious subject. "I meant what I said yesterday. You're not hopeless."
"I guess." He did not want to talk about this. The fact that everyone knew, noticed his blatant attraction to Marik, was insufferable.
"I've never seen you this interested in someone."
"Everyone sees it except him." His transparency made him internally cringe.
"No, he does. That's why he's so pissed." She looked amused.
"Insightful."
Pieces of hair fell in his face, obscuring his eyes. He'd forgotten how annoyed he was with shorter hair. This was the last time he was doing that.
Marik had brought him to a Thai restaurant. His main goal was to get Bakura to eat spicy food. He was convinced Bakura would have the typical white spice aversion, but he was wrong. Bakura could handle a decent level of heat. He was also more likely to tan than burn, but the blond hadn't realised that yet.
"How is it?" Marik asked before eating a mouthful of noodles.
"My mouth is on fire," the white haired man replied.
"And?"
"It tastes amazing." He took another bite to prove his point. There was pain, but it was delicious. He could handle it, just barely though. Marik looked disappointed for a moment.
The Egyptian continued to eat, equally unfazed. Bakura was observing his face again. He missed seeing it in person.
"I know I'm attractive. Stop staring," Marik cut in, not even looking up from his meal.
Bakura lazily smiled. "Why do you even bother pretending to hate me?"
"It's not pretend. I do."
"Didn't you say I wasn't as bad as you originally thought?"
"I clearly wasn't thinking straight."
"There was nothing straight about it."
"Fuck off. You're tolerable at best."
"Likewise." He smirked and Marik glared.
His bad pun made him realise something. This could be his last opportunity to sleep with another person before winning back Marik. His certainty that they would have another chance was unlike him. The fact that he saw his fate sealed in monogamy was surreal. His lack of interest in going through with his last chance was most telling.
"Fine. Slightly more than tolerable. Acceptable," Marik amended for some reason. Underneath the table, Marik slid his foot across to be closer to Bakura's. He made no further move.
"Why do you even have a roommate anyway? You could probably buy a flat if you wanted."
"He wants friends. I don't."
"Not even drinks after playing rugby?"
"No. I just leave."
"Why are you even here?"
"I don't fucking know anymore. You make the day less boring."
"What would you consider to be your flaws?"
He was laying across the chaise longue, arms crossed, the picture of therapy sessions. "I'm obnoxious."
"What else?" He disliked her implication that there were more. She wasn't wrong.
"I certainly have a lot of repressed issues around death."
"And?" she pressed, leaning forward. Her hair was let down today.
"Rude? Anti-social? Fake? Take your pick."
"Fake?"
Bakura frowned. That was the only one she was questioning? "I'm pretending just to get by."
"What do you mean by that?"
He was avoiding her gaze now. She pushed him a lot. "Not get fired."
"I see. What about friends? You have those."
'You make the day less boring.' "I like being around some of them."
Ryou insisted they met up on a bi-weekly basis.
"You don't need to check up on me this often. Stop acting like I'm going to off myself." Bakura was definitely annoyed. He was also paying for dinner again as a part of the forgiveness list. He was contemplating abandoning Ryou forever, changing his name and becoming an adult orphan. Ryou was certainly taking advantage of this situation.
"I know you're not going to do that." Ryou rolled his eyes.
"Can you just pick the final big favour so that I can get it over with?"
"Give me time. I'm not letting this opportunity go to waste."
"I'm not sure if I even feel bad about it anymore," the older man uttered.
"Did you even feel bad before?"
"Just sometimes. Mostly, I forgot." Ryou seemed satisfied with his answer. It was honest.
He had to get Marik to forgive him. He wasn't texting daily, but every few days, he made the effort. It was a combination of sorrys and pls answers. He'd never stooped this bloody low before. This was his twentieth unanswered text, or so he thought.
[Marik:
You're relentless]
Thank fuck!
Bakura was on the bus. Rain battered against the window. The air felt damp. A weight was lifted.
[Marik:
Leave me the fuck alone]
[REPLY:
I know where you live]
[Marik:
Stop using my lines on me!]
[REPLY:
I will hunt you down]
He hadn't meant for it to sound that threatening, unhinged, but it made sense for them.
[Marik:
What do you want!?]
[REPLY:
You]
He could imagine Marik sighing right now, annoyed with him but giving it serious consideration.
[Marik:
You'll never have me]
Wanker.
[REPLY:
Oh but I think I already do. One down, one to go]
[Marik:
Fuck you!]
[REPLY:
Please]
His plan of seeking forgiveness flew out the window as banter took over. This was how he'd gotten Marik the first time around after all. They were really fucking bad at flirting.
He wondered when the transition between denial and active attraction began. Probably a lot sooner than he acknowledged.
[Marik:
Unbelievable]
[REPLY:
I never do this for anyone]
[Marik:
I know]
[REPLY:
?]
[Marik:
But I don't want to talk to you right now]
[REPLY:
You might later?]
[Marik:
I might]
[REPLY:
I'm dying to see you]
He waited. He knew Marik would take his time unpacking that last message. Finally, a ding.
[Marik:
I'll attend your funeral]
Motherfucker. And yet, he couldn't help but smirk.
[REPLY:
It will be held at your earliest convenience. I hear a lot of heartfelt words will be said]
He'd managed to keep Marik conversing this long. He was nearly in the clear.
[Marik:
Doubt it. Bakura is kind of a dick]
[REPLY:
A loveable one!]
Why was he arguing about himself in the third person?
[Marik:
Questionable]
[REPLY:
Let me prove you wrong. Please]
He'd never wanted anyone this…vehemently. Marik was right; this was going to destroy him.
[Marik:
Give me time]
[REPLY:
How long?]
His life wasn't the same without him.
[Marik:
I'll tell you when I know]
[REPLY:
Okay]
Bakura wouldn't push this time. He'd try patience. He missed his stop. Fuck.