Review Replies:
onlyHAUNTED: Beautiful impression of a flamer, my dear. Got the spelling down to a T and everything. *Applauds*
QueenAllie: Heehee, steal away. I'm sure I prolly stole the idea from someone too. O.o my science teacher last year once told me that no thought is an original thought. I came up with something really weird and told him no one had ever thought that before . . . o.O
Kawaii Kuroi Mahotsukai: Yay. Fans always make me happy. ^_^;; Sorry this took so long, by the way . . .
Nightfire Kariana: Heh heh . . . even I don't know where I come up with some of this shit . . .

"When your life falls apart, always remember that I will be the one who will stay to help you pick up the pieces. And when the rest of the world walks out on you, remember to leave the door open, because I am the one who will be walking in to help you through it all."

Ryou's POV

            Malik and his sister had moved their shouting match to the kitchen. Actually . . . Malik was the only one who was yelling.

            I don't want him to leave . . . but, I also don't want his family wondering about him. I want him to be happy, so if he decides that he wants to go back home . . . I won't stop him.

            He tried to leave once before . . . maybe he's only staying here so that he won't make me feel bad or anything. That would be horrible. Have all that we done . . .  all that we've shared . . . was it really all a lie?

            I was still standing in the front foyer when Malik ran upstairs. Seconds later, I heard a door slam shut. Isis walked out of the kitchen soon after . . . only much more composed than Malik had been.

            She began staring intently at me, and didn't look away. After what seemed like forever just standing like that, I finally moved.

            "Um . . . excuse me please," I muttered softly as I started up the stairs. "You can help yourself to anything," I added as an afterthought, running the rest of the way up the flight of steps.

            As I came to the hallway, I noticed that my door was the only one that had been shut.

            Knocking on it softly, I called out, "Malik? It's just me. Your sister's still downstairs."

            I heard footsteps come up to the door, and then the wooden barrier that separated me from him opened a bit, and two watery lavender eyes peered out at me.

            I pushed the door open the last of the way and hugged Malik. I've never seen him this sad. It's depressing . . . I only want him to be happy.

            "I don't want to go," He said into my shoulder, which was getting increasingly wet from his tears.

            "Didn't you talk to her?" I asked.

            "Yeah . . . but she's so goddamn stubborn it's frustrating."

            "Well . . . do they need you back home?"

            "Not really . . . but Isis keeps on insisting that they do. They were all always so scared of me and pretending that I wasn't there anyway. That's the way they always were . . . thought that if maybe you ignored a problem long enough, it would go away. Well, I'm gone, but now they want me back, and . . ." he broke off then, throwing his arms around my neck and sobbing.

            I guided him over to the bed and sat down, still hugging him and petting his hair.

            It was then that I saw the scared, insecure child in Malik. There's someone like that in all of us. Some people gladly never have to face that person, while the rest of us have to face them more than once. And it's scary and we hate it, but all we can do is hope that there will be someone's awaiting arms that we can fall into; someone there to dry our tears and sew us back together when we're falling apart.

            My hand, by this time, was now stroking Malik's head instinctively. His sobs had been reduced to sniffles, and we were just laying there in each others arms. It's funny how the most romantic of situations branch out from the saddest . . .

            I jumped up when I heard loud voices downstairs. Malik lifted his head from my shoulder, and looked at me quizzically.

            "Shh . . ." I got up and motioned for him to follow me down the stairs.

            Hand in hand we made out way down to the ground floor quietly, and then hid underneath the staircase we had just descended.

            Peeking out a bit, I saw Bakura and Isis glaring at each other in front of the door; Bakura must have just gotten home.

            "You don't understand," Isis said, trying to make her voice appear calm, "if Malik stays here then it will only cause a lot of trouble. Believe me."