I don't own anything no matter how much I wish.

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"How do you know I would be here?"

The voice was low and the hint of annoyance clearly audible. Its owner was sitting near the edge of the cliff, eyes cast downright on the waves crashing furiously against the rocks. Blue hair flowing everywhere the wind decided to blow. His black shirt was open and followed the same pattern than his hair.

"I know you."

The second voice was cold and emotionless. The newcomer went to sit graciously beside the first man. He looked at the clouds before frowning a little. There was a storm coming.

"Why did you come?"

"It is going to rain. You shouldn't stay out."

"Why did you come?"

This time the words were coming trough clenched teeth.

The silence dwelled a little longer. The two men still had to look at each other.

"Would you mind answering my fucking question?"

The words were full of venom.

More silence.

"Aiola asked me to check on you."

Always the same flat emotionless tone.

And again the silence.

And then a bitter laugh.

This actually got the second man to look at his companion. His laugh was fake, more nervous than anything else. His clenched fists were resting on his knees and you could see blood slowly sliding from them. He was stinging himself with the Scarlet Needle. This caused him to frown a little more.

"You…really don't care at all. You only came because somebody told you to do it."

Again the bitter laugh. A little hysteric now.

"Tell me Camus…tell me frankly…did you consider me at least one time your friend? Or was I just a nuisance?"

This time he turned to look at Camus. There was a tempest in his eyes as well as some madness. And Camus frowned again at that. He couldn't understand the feelings in the other's eyes. Never had and never will.

"What is your problem Milo?"

Again the hysterical laugh.

The next thing he knew was that Milo had jumped him and was straddling him, pinning his hands above his head with his. He could feel his hot ragged breath against his neck and felt a little fear. Milo was a lot of things but dangerous and unpredictable were definitively on top of the list.

"You're sure you know me Camus?"

He could have sworn Milo was purring.

"Let me show you what my problem is…"

And then he felt lips against his own and Milo's tongue entering his mouth. He stayed immobile for mere seconds while receiving this strange one-sided passionate kiss.

This was madness. This had to stop. And Camus did so the only way he could think of, by biting on the intruder's tongue until he could feel the metallic taste of blood.

Milo only broke the kiss after a few more seconds. His eyes were still a maelstrom of feelings, the only two recognizable being lust and sadness.

He saw Milo slowly lick the trail of blood coming from his lips before slowly whispering.

"You're my problem Camus."

He then got up and left with that feline quality about his step that would probably never leave him.

Camus was still by the cliff long after the first drop had fallen on his skin, trying to make sense of something that didn't have any.