A/N: D18/8018 patterned fic, well, you'll get it as you read.
o0. Confinement.
"If lies can be told to cause pain, then they can also be told out of love."
His name dwell on your lips; his smell remain on you; these memories that you have to relive... Every day. Every night. Every moment. It's as if you've become imprisoned in your own feelings of him. How to forget... His name; his hair; his face; his eyes; his smile; his voice; his laugh; his touch; each and every memory of him.
How to forget. How to forget... The shape of his mouth. The length of his slender fingers. His breathing that meingled with yours. The way he always look at you. That tingling-loss-of-breath sensation... Whenever he touches you...
How to let go. How to let go.
o1. Predator
Cavallone always favored you.
You knew he did. The way he would look at you; those private 'training sessions'; his obvious flirting; the things he would say and do to your heart when he's managed to pin you down. When your threats are meaningless. When your body goes limp and you feel like you're falling. When his actions deceive his words of comfort.
"If you want me to stop, I'll stop," when you knew he had no intentions to.
When your heartbeat becomes fueled by the look in his eyes as his breath caress your cheeks. When you had no intentions of stopping him. When small jolts of electricity would tingle through your body. When you become suffocated by the way he smells - expensive cologne underneath blood and sweat - and all your senses go haywire. You lose control.
...The one time you acknowledged the existence of your heart, Cavallone just had to take it away from you.
This feeling... What to do, what to do...
o2. Abstract
"Hibari-!" Your tonfas miss. Again and again. Your arms shake and your heart tremble. You feel your legs about to give weight. But you don't want to. Don't want to give in. Don't want to lose. Don't want to feel weak.
"Kyouya,"
"Hibari-" His hand grips your wrist and you want to fall away from reality. You want to push back time. So badly... you wished you could grasp time in your hands... change everything... "Hibari, I love you-"
"I love you. I love you. Kyouya... I love you," You hate him. You hate him. "So very much..." You don't need him. You don't need him. "Kyouya," You didn't need it. You didn't want it. Any of it. Not his lies. Not his fake promises. ...Not his love. Not him. Not Dino Cavallone.
Those three simple words...
"I'm getting married," ...And your body falls like the pouring rain, trembling like the tonfas that clanged against the concrete. Flooded by tears, you wish your misery would drown you along with your weak heart... These arms... they were unfamiliar. These words... they ring continuously in your ears.
"Let's break up," Each leaving a taunting memory...
"I love you. I love you, senpai. I... I really, really do."
o3. Faulty
"Are you well?" He never seem to leave before. Always reluctant to. But now, he hardly visits. Hardly stays for long. He comes by once in a while to check on you. A brief greeting and then he would leave. And you (would once again) miss the sound of his voice. His gentle caress. His smile. His kisses... You tell yourself you don't need them. Not comfort; not dwelling. Not his smiles. Not his touch. Not his memory. Not the tingling sensation of his kisses... Not the burning passion that would never subside...
Not anything that belonged to him...
You want to lie to him - to yourself - that you don't miss him. That today, today, you felt better. Today, you didn't need him. Today... you no longer felt imprisoned and weak. That you were once again the way you used to be - strong.
"...I still think about you a lot, you know," But you can't do it...
It's all your fault. It's all your fault.
...You fell in love and now you've fallen apart. No manual can fix you.
o4. Game
"Hehe, you're so pretty, senpai~"
He doesn't touch you or kiss you. Rather, he stays a far distance from you. All he does is tease you. He laughs and smiles with each tease and joke - but you don't think they're funny. (You don't like being teased...) But he's so good at leading you on. "...I'm a guy. I can't be pretty,"
(And you get so pissed off by it.) His words. His soft whispers. Those simple phrases "I like you," and "Senpai, you look (especially) pretty today~" His secretive smile as he reply, "Haha, I know... but that doesn't change the fact that I think - no - that you're pretty,"
You hate that the most; you can't tell what he's thinking about when he does that. When he smiles that way. Passion. Lust. Adoration. (Love.) The way he look at you... as if... "You really want to die, don't you?"
...as if he really did love you.
"Oh, did I upset you?" But you hate it more when he doesn't smile; when that gleam of happiness is gone from "I'm sorry then." Even your threats have become useless. You want to stop. You don't want to be a part of this game anymore...
"Leave before I bite you to death," No more. You forfeit, you don't care. You can't take it anymore. You were destined to lose anyways. You knew you will, you just did.
"...I can't," Or rather... you already have. "I can't leave you alone... I can't do anything but love you like a habit."
In the game of love, you were destined to be the loser.
o5. Mistake
'I miss you,'
Sleepless nights thinking of you. Whispering your name again. It is so painful and I can't stop reading your messages; I miss you every second. I'll go out at midnight to see you. Do you feel the same? I wanna believe that this feeling is real.
Carried away. Led on. Which? Whose fault is it? His fault, or yours? Are you decrypting the messages right? Don't respond. Don't respond.
'Kyouya,'
Turn it off. Turn it off. Your body shake and you draw your comforter closer, but you don't make a move to turn it off. It doesn't help. You just continue to stare at the bright screen. 'Do you still think of me?'
...Which is it? Whose fault is it? Surely... this is a mistake, right?
o6. Carnations
You stare at the bouquet of white roses placed perfectly on your desk. You didn't need to read the light blue card stuck neatly between the unblemished buds to know who it was from. No... All you do is stare at it. You don't touch it, (smell it), or throw it away. Your gaze fixated on it, you were tempted to destroy it.
Always on this day. Always, he would send you flowers. ...Even now. Always white; you were really getting sick of this. "...I don't like flowers," you say quietly into the silence, not a soul to listen. 'You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of the Cavallone Famiglia's tenth generation boss and his lovely bride. We await your presence.'
But today, it was for an entirely different reason. Why this day? Why today, of all the days?
It feels good to be alone, a lie. You lay your head down on the cool desk and your eyes once more fix on the flowers. They were so perfect... So untouched of blemishes or decay. How long have they been sitting here? Throw it away. Throw it away. You felt so tempted to just crush them and watch as they break between your palms.
You can't bear to. They were so perfect. You hear footsteps coming towards your door and you knew perfectly who it was. The inability to guard his heavy footsteps - who else was idiotic enough to let their guard down around you? You glance to the wooden door and back at the bouquet of flowers. Throw it away. You're aware of it - 4:30 - like everyday. Throw it away. He'll see it.
You feel the slightest twist of the knob, but you don't move. It wasn't until his face revealed itself did you casually push the bouquet into the trash. It didn't bother you that maybe he had seen it. "Senpai~" and you watch as the perfect white buds become tainted in the small trashcan. They were no longer perfect. How dirty. "Happy birthday, senpai~"
"...Flowers, really, Yamamoto Takeshi? What do you take me for, a woman?" but he only grin, the small bouquet of carnations that peeked from behind his back obvious as day.
o7. Dawn
"Let's leave this place, you and me. ...I'll... I'll give up everything, let's just go somewhere else, please ? I'll give up the Cavallone name, I'll give up being a boss - I'll give up the mafia. ...I just want you. I just want to be with you.. I... I wish I could marry you."
Your gaze never meet his, "...I'm a guy, you know," And you hear him say almost exasperatedly, "I know..." as if he, too, regretted that fact. Maybe he did. Maybe he too found you at fault. Maybe there really was something wrong with you. Maybe it would've been better if you were a girl.
If only you were a girl. Maybe then you would compliment him. Maybe then, it would've worked out. You would lead a whole different existence, be a whole different person. Anyone would be okay - anyone not you. Yeah, that would've been better, wouldn't it...?
o8. (in)Audible
"Oh, senpai, you look so cute when you're angry~"
"Are you tempting my patience, Yamamoto Takeshi?"
He chuckles, raising his hands in defense. "Never," however, he leans closer to your ear and you watch him in the bathroom mirror, mouthing those words - his whisper hot in your ear, "You just look so passionate when you're angry. It makes me think that possibly... this is what senpai would look like... when we make love."
o9. Sinner
"Baby-" Amore mio. Amore mio. "Mi dispiace, mi dispiace*.
Touches so familiar, voice oh-so clear. His grip around you, his urgent whispers against your ear. Over and over. Again and agin. "Baby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry*," Your breath catches. Why does it feel so suffocating? "Baby, I'm so sorry." This is real. This is real. Dino Cavallone was real. He was in front of you, in your grasp. Holding you... kissing you... apologizing to you... such loving words...
"A lot of people have loved before, but my love stands apart from all of them because, they don't have you..." He held your hands as he said this to you. His rough, calloused hands that were worn out from strenous hours of baseball - hands that were so different from the ones that were holding yours now.
"Mi dispiace, I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. Baby, I'm sorry," You miss this, didn't you? Don't deny it; you miss this. You miss this. You miss him. You miss Dino Cavallone. ...But, why, of all the times, are you thinking of someone else? The words of a fool. An inexperienced, weak, outsider who couldn't possibly understand your pain. Tears threaten. An endless voice reminds you, It's all your fault. All your fault.
Why did you have to fall for someone like that? Didn't you just want Dino Cavallone? Didn't you just want to be with him? Why are thinking of someone else when the one person whose memory has been haunting you until now was finally here with you?
Fool. Fool. That was what he is. A fool. ...But you fell in love with that fool.
What does that make you then?
1o. Twilight
He said he loved your hands, your slender fingers that looked so perfect. You tell him that it's only because his were rougher, more calloused - because he was active in sports, unlike you. He said he liked the way the light plays on your skin in the morning as it peeks through the shades. How angelic you look. You tell him that it's only because he was still half-asleep. One day, he teased that you looked like a girl because your hair had grown so long. His exact words, "Senpai, your hair's tickling my face... I think it's gotten longer... You know, it kinda makes you look," chuckling while kissing you, "...almost like a girl."
You had no explanation for it; the next day, your hair was shorter than what it was originally before it grew out.
He said he liked your skin and how soft it was to the touch. You once more blame his worn out hands. Really, they were at fault. He told you he liked the shape of your body. Your thin waist. You were so feminime to him, it seem. He told you that you'd make a good wife - his wife. (How ironic.)
"...Because the only person I want to see is you. Because when I go to sleep at night, the only person I (want to) dream about is you. ...Because when I wake up in the morning, I only want to see you. ...Does that sound crazy?"
A/N: If my friends and Google Translate(lol) did not fail me, mi dispiace means I'm sorry, as indicated by the *.