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Title: Untitled
Wordcount: 1,186
What: Langunverse - Withdrawal is hard and relapsing is common
Status: Complete
He tasted of cheap chocolate and sin… or at least that was how I'd remember my first kiss tasting like. It got to a point where I couldn't look at a bar of chocolate without thinking of him, much less eat one without remembering. After coming back home, I'd been put off chocolate and the thought of White Day altogether. March 14. White Day. The last time I ever said his name.
Him.
As if saying his name alone was taboo after that day.
For a while, I didn't want to think of him or his name. I didn't want to think of the way he touched me, the way he looked at me with those eyes that seemed to burn into my soul, the way it felt when I woke up and found him with his arm around me. God, I felt like such a fool: jerking out of bed like that, like I wasn't expecting it. How the way he moved stirred something in me - in both my chest and other areas. I didn't want to remember how he looked at me that one other night: with eyes that pleaded me for… something, those eyes that seemed so lost and those lips begging me to kiss them. So I did. Over and over until sin was stitched into me like a patch that covered up what was missing. I think that was when it happened, when I just stopped giving a damn about my soul and the promise of hell if I just let myself go and gave in. I was bound for Gehenna, anyway. May as well enjoy myself before heading there.
Those eyes.
He undid me with those eyes.
I let him. Over and over and over again.
And then I woke up. Five am, exactly when I'd set my alarm that night only to awaken on the Station.
It was as if those past months had been a dream, like I'd never left. Tomorrow was the first day of school so I woke up early because I had to move things to my new dorm room. Somehow, I'd found my way back exactly on the day I left it. How, I don't know. I didn't fill out my card. I doubt all the credits I earned pooled together would have been enough to bring me home… but here I was. There would be time to figure this all out. For now, there were things I had to do and plenty of time to mull over everything as I did them. As I washed my face, I thought of Shiemi. I wondered if she'd remember what happened and wondered what I would do if she did. There would be time to ask tomorrow. Then I briefly thought of him and in the middle of pulling on a clean shirt, I realized I'd never see him again. To be honest, I didn't know if I felt relieved or hurt by that thought. It felt like a little of both.
Part of me cursed him for causing that ache in my chest every time I thought of him. The last memory I had of him, after all, was leaving that half-coherent message that was sent into the ether. Relief and pain again. Relief because he never heard it. Pain because he never heard it. Why I sent it, I had no idea. I just wanted to tell him that despite all I read on that network, I still trusted him. It's something I assumed he needed to hear. Something he might have appreciated. But maybe I was a fool for assuming that's why he decided to disappear. Thinking back, it felt like a half-baked confession from a rambling teenager. I said things I never thought I would and admitted to things I never thought about until that day. Mentally, I chastised myself for wasting so much time thinking about him again. Here I was: home, with a chance to live my life over… and all I could think about was him. Again. All I could think about was the desperation I felt, as if I was trying to grab on to something that was disappearing before my eyes. Something I desperately wanted to cling to. Feeling these things and finally admitting it to myself only to have it all snatched away at the exact moment was cruel. But maybe it was the Lord's way of punishing me for straying from the path He had set before me. Yet here I was, still shying away from His redemption. God had already offered me a chance to get over that man and I declined once. Clearly the only solution was to take me back home where I had no choice but to get over him.
But did I want to?
it scared me when I realized I was actually considered it… and then I realized I'd finally run out of fucks to give. For those few months, I remembered there were other things I could think about apart from the Order or studying or training. No matter how absurd the situation was, I'd learned things I couldn't had I stayed home. I met someone. Someone who made me feel my age. Someone who taught me how giddiness felt, how I was apparently capable of some kind of feeling that was equal parts happy and sad. Someone who could make my heart race and breath hitch and my palms sweat… all at the same time. Someone who my eyes followed like he was the brightest thing in the room when everything else was cloaked in shadow. Someone who filled me with pain and shock and awe and… joy.
Joy.
I was happy. And all was right in the world. For the past months, I'd remembered how being happy felt like. No one had ever done that for me… and I felt that no one ever would again. In two months, he had managed to do what no one had in the fifteen years I'd been alive. No one had made me feel as whole as he had. It was this feeling I clung to like a lifeline during the next few days.
I didn't cry when he disappeared
I didn't cry when I realized I'd never see him again..
I didn't cry when Father Fujimoto was killed. Not when I found out. Not during the funeral.
I came close all three times… but I'd be lying if I said he wasn't the reason I didn't. It was remembering how he made me feel, how he made me forget how to feel so fed up with living and being driven to the brink that kept me alive. It was just me and Rin left, after all. Lord Pheles made a terrible caretaker. Rin was… well… there were reasons why everyone always pegged me as the older twin.
So no. No, I didn't want to get over him no matter how every fiber of me said that I should.
Not when the impossible hope of seeing him again was the only thing that was basically keeping me alive.
Wordcount: 1,186
What: Langunverse - Withdrawal is hard and relapsing is common
Status: Complete
He tasted of cheap chocolate and sin… or at least that was how I'd remember my first kiss tasting like. It got to a point where I couldn't look at a bar of chocolate without thinking of him, much less eat one without remembering. After coming back home, I'd been put off chocolate and the thought of White Day altogether. March 14. White Day. The last time I ever said his name.
Him.
As if saying his name alone was taboo after that day.
For a while, I didn't want to think of him or his name. I didn't want to think of the way he touched me, the way he looked at me with those eyes that seemed to burn into my soul, the way it felt when I woke up and found him with his arm around me. God, I felt like such a fool: jerking out of bed like that, like I wasn't expecting it. How the way he moved stirred something in me - in both my chest and other areas. I didn't want to remember how he looked at me that one other night: with eyes that pleaded me for… something, those eyes that seemed so lost and those lips begging me to kiss them. So I did. Over and over until sin was stitched into me like a patch that covered up what was missing. I think that was when it happened, when I just stopped giving a damn about my soul and the promise of hell if I just let myself go and gave in. I was bound for Gehenna, anyway. May as well enjoy myself before heading there.
Those eyes.
He undid me with those eyes.
I let him. Over and over and over again.
And then I woke up. Five am, exactly when I'd set my alarm that night only to awaken on the Station.
It was as if those past months had been a dream, like I'd never left. Tomorrow was the first day of school so I woke up early because I had to move things to my new dorm room. Somehow, I'd found my way back exactly on the day I left it. How, I don't know. I didn't fill out my card. I doubt all the credits I earned pooled together would have been enough to bring me home… but here I was. There would be time to figure this all out. For now, there were things I had to do and plenty of time to mull over everything as I did them. As I washed my face, I thought of Shiemi. I wondered if she'd remember what happened and wondered what I would do if she did. There would be time to ask tomorrow. Then I briefly thought of him and in the middle of pulling on a clean shirt, I realized I'd never see him again. To be honest, I didn't know if I felt relieved or hurt by that thought. It felt like a little of both.
Part of me cursed him for causing that ache in my chest every time I thought of him. The last memory I had of him, after all, was leaving that half-coherent message that was sent into the ether. Relief and pain again. Relief because he never heard it. Pain because he never heard it. Why I sent it, I had no idea. I just wanted to tell him that despite all I read on that network, I still trusted him. It's something I assumed he needed to hear. Something he might have appreciated. But maybe I was a fool for assuming that's why he decided to disappear. Thinking back, it felt like a half-baked confession from a rambling teenager. I said things I never thought I would and admitted to things I never thought about until that day. Mentally, I chastised myself for wasting so much time thinking about him again. Here I was: home, with a chance to live my life over… and all I could think about was him. Again. All I could think about was the desperation I felt, as if I was trying to grab on to something that was disappearing before my eyes. Something I desperately wanted to cling to. Feeling these things and finally admitting it to myself only to have it all snatched away at the exact moment was cruel. But maybe it was the Lord's way of punishing me for straying from the path He had set before me. Yet here I was, still shying away from His redemption. God had already offered me a chance to get over that man and I declined once. Clearly the only solution was to take me back home where I had no choice but to get over him.
But did I want to?
it scared me when I realized I was actually considered it… and then I realized I'd finally run out of fucks to give. For those few months, I remembered there were other things I could think about apart from the Order or studying or training. No matter how absurd the situation was, I'd learned things I couldn't had I stayed home. I met someone. Someone who made me feel my age. Someone who taught me how giddiness felt, how I was apparently capable of some kind of feeling that was equal parts happy and sad. Someone who could make my heart race and breath hitch and my palms sweat… all at the same time. Someone who my eyes followed like he was the brightest thing in the room when everything else was cloaked in shadow. Someone who filled me with pain and shock and awe and… joy.
Joy.
I was happy. And all was right in the world. For the past months, I'd remembered how being happy felt like. No one had ever done that for me… and I felt that no one ever would again. In two months, he had managed to do what no one had in the fifteen years I'd been alive. No one had made me feel as whole as he had. It was this feeling I clung to like a lifeline during the next few days.
I didn't cry when he disappeared
I didn't cry when I realized I'd never see him again..
I didn't cry when Father Fujimoto was killed. Not when I found out. Not during the funeral.
I came close all three times… but I'd be lying if I said he wasn't the reason I didn't. It was remembering how he made me feel, how he made me forget how to feel so fed up with living and being driven to the brink that kept me alive. It was just me and Rin left, after all. Lord Pheles made a terrible caretaker. Rin was… well… there were reasons why everyone always pegged me as the older twin.
So no. No, I didn't want to get over him no matter how every fiber of me said that I should.
Not when the impossible hope of seeing him again was the only thing that was basically keeping me alive.
