A/N: ALL HAIL THE MIKAMI X LIGHT.
Standard disclaimers apply. See other fanfictions for details. Blahblahblahfailplz.
Should I continue it or leave it as the angsty goodness it is? YOUR DECISION.
Thank you, Aria, for beta reading. C:

Sorry for the weird formatting. xX I dunno' what to do.
-x-

"When we are in love we often doubt that which we most believe."

The ticking of the clock matched the man's heart beat, his ears shattered by the drone of the refrigerator. The room was silent except for the rhythmic sound of his own haggard breathing, and he desperately wished it would cease. His head felt as if it would split from pain, eyes burning with tears he would not shed- it was his fault; he could not show weakness or regret.

He had gone too far. He had let emotions and greed overrun him. For once in his life he felt helpless, the slap from God still stinging his cheek. The wound screamed with divine agony; however, Mikami Teru accepted the pain. He had asked for too much. The doorknob was as cold as death's embrace. He held onto it as if it were a lifeline, his legs threatening to give out. He had asked his God for the one thing he knew he could never had, but he wanted it so badly-- He wanted his God's love. He didn't want those ferocious kisses of unconstrained lust. He didn't want to be left alone in the morning, the only reminder of his God twisted sheets and the smell of sweat. Most of all, he hated seeing that other man reflected in Yagami Light's eyes, giant, black orbs staring down at him and reminding him that he was unworthy of being anything else but a tool.

Teru had invited his God over for dinner. They had long since defeated Near and the SPK; Kira was free to move and judge. His God had graciously accepted. All day he had spent in the kitchen, toiling over every last detail of the meal. The garnish had been prepared perfectly, the vegetables had been cooked meticulously, and the steak had roasted until it was exactly medium rare- just as his Lord liked it. He had set the table with his finest china and filled two flutes with renowned champagne.
His Lord had arrived at the set time, punctual to the second. He had greeted the worshipper with a smile that both knew was fake. They chatted airily, and at the end of eating the subject of sleeping over had casually arose.
"I would like you to stay with me, God." Mikami had said in a rather brave tone, looking his perfect God straight in the eyes. Deep brown met gold.
"As you see fit, my pet. You have done well and it is quite fun to reward you."
"I do not think you understand my request, milord." Teru took a deep breath. "I wish that you stay with me forever." He paused for a moment. "I think I love you, God...Kira...Yagami Light." He watched his God's face carefully, his heart plummeting as he watched the divine being's mouth twitch into a grin. His eyes sparkled with humor, chuckles escaping his lips which soon became rich laughter. The prosecutor felt the tingling fire of blush scar his cheeks, his God taking in several deep breaths to calm himself.
"Mikami Teru, what have you become? You cannot allow your emotions to get in the way of creating the New World. You are my right hand, my disciple. You are nothing more than a tool, remember this." Light rose to his feet, adjusting his tie calmly and staring down upon him as if he were filth. Mikami flinched under his God's gaze, bowing his head. "I must leave now. I have more important matters to attend to."
The young deity was beginning to walk away when Mikami felt himself lose all control. His hand darted out and grabbed Light's, impure fingers lacing through the sinless digits of his savior.
"Please stay with me."

That's when he had been stricken; it was a reprimand that was worse than death. His messiah's eyes reflected unparalleled anger, red slits filled with disgust as he strolled out. The door slammed behind him.

Mikami Teru sat there for several minutes, distorted thoughts scrambling to find something to hold onto. However, there was nothing and the male found himself slipping. He staggered to the door and reached out to pursue his God, but he couldn't.
He couldn't.
His legs surrendered and the man collapsed against the wall, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Mikami hadn't cried since his Mother's death. He had been beaten until he was nothing more but a pile of flesh and blood, at times he had been friendless - alone in the rotten world- and watched as others found the happiness he himself could not attain. He had watched, knowing one day he would be rewarded for his efforts. Suddenly this did not seem like knowledge, just a naive form of hope. For the first time in years, so many years, trails of silver poured from his eyes and cascaded down his cheeks.
He did not try to stop them.

Because, for once in his life, he doubted God.