Recommended listening: Tell Me Now (What You See) by Moya Brannen

Sparkle

It was night now, a cold rainy night with black clouds veiling the dark blue sky. Light drops of water tap against the windowpane as loud drums rumble overhead. The inside of the house was almost as cold as the sharp nipping wind outside, yet not as frightening. No, correct that, it was just as frightening. As bolts of jagged fire flashed through the un-shaded window, eerie shadows cast themselves around in corners and behind large objects, sending chills through the room. The lightning seemed to hit the drums overhead, as thunder soon followed every flash, making the chills seep through every crack in the room. Wrapped up in bed, even in a large comforter, against the harshness of the storm, was no help at all.

I felt alone and scared, helpless and grieved. I curled myself into a ball in hopes of warming myself, but when another streak of light assaulted the sky, the room grew ever colder and nothing could stop me from shivering. I slowly uncurled from my position, blinking my eyes in the dark before allowing them to slide closed. I knew that sleep would not claim, as it had eluded me since the storm had begun.

I allowed my mind to wander behind my closed eyelids as another bolt of light shone beyond them. I searched my mind for a thought of comfort to grasp, to hold on to so I would not feel lonely anymore this night. Another flash came to me; it was not because of the lightning from beyond the window, but from my own feelings, my heart, that in which now skipped a beat. I knew how it would look like on an EKG machine, two small peaks and then one huge spike.

It was him. It was the one whom I cared so much for, the one who I always wanted to protect, the one who gave me a place to be, no matter how small it was. I allowed the smallest of smiles to grace my lips at the mere mental image of his face, deep alluring forest eyes, sandy ashen blonde hair tossed carelessly into the wind, picked up by the gentlest of breezes.

Kyoto seemed so long ago, but for me, I still remember it as though it were yesterday. I had wanted to die so badly, I wished so much for death to befall me, erase me forever and cast my ashes all across Japan, no, the world. But he… he called me back. He had thrown himself at me, fallen into my arms, crying for me and begging me to remain here. He had told me to be here, exist for him, if not anything else. If I had chosen not to, I realized later, he would have been prepared to die with me, burned as much as I would have, perhaps even more with how he shielded me from the flames behind him, sacrificing his own health just to show that I was important, to show I was cared for. Moreover, to make sure I would be okay.

It did not take me long after the figure out how much I needed him, needed his touch, needed his hand to pull me from the darkness that threatened to consume me, just like the storm this night. I knew the darkness well, brought up through my own fear, the same fear that stirred deep within me that I was too cowardly to show for the possibility that he would leave me, too. So many others had left me behind, leaving me alone with my inner darkness, not caring that I was so broken up inside, walking the jagged edge of sanity every hour of every day.

I feel a hot droplet of water slowly make its lonely journey down the side of my face, letting go after a moment and falling away, soaking up in the comforter that provided no warmth for me. I kept my eyes shut tightly as burning light flashed before them. My body was shaking and the lonely, empty feeling seized my heart, making my chest tighten at the surge of emotion. I do not know why I feel so childish and helpless, but I knew that even if I acted like an adult, the feeling would not go away. It may never go away.

It is then that I hear a small noise, a voice calling out to me, the voice of an angel. It may just be an illusion that would fade if I opened my eyes and blinked, but although I could not see it, my mind imagined something beautiful, something so beautiful, I willed my eyes to open, looking for the owner of the voice. Through the darkness, I could see a figure standing in my bedroom doorway, hair tossed slightly and colored a dirty blonde, emerald eyes shining through the black veil of night to regard me with care, concern, and worry flashing repeatedly through the deep orbs. I could not voice out the name that I wanted to roll off my tongue, nor could I believe he was actually here tonight, in my bedroom, staring at me with emotions that cradled me, soft and comforting.

He calls my name out, possibly the second time that night, if the first noise he made was calling out my name, but I did not hear him and now cannot answer him. My throat feels dry and my voice box refuses to work. I do not even bother opening my mouth for fear of saying the wrong thing, even if it's just his name I utter.

A few moments between us pass before he decides to take action and take slow strides across my bedroom. It seems that the closer he walks to me, the farther away the shadows and darkness recede behind him. When he gets closer to my bed, I feel my fear within me escalate on a high scale. I know it is fear that I may hurt him, a fear for his safety and well-being, and yet, I cannot keep it from him behind a fake smile tonight. The fake smile is something he could not—and would not—believe, because I do not know how long he had been standing there in the doorway. I did not even hear it open, much less know when he had come, whether it had been half an hour ago or a few minutes ago. I had expected him to stop by now, feeling my confounding and unshielded emotions, but he still came to me without hesitation.

He stops at my bed, looking down at me before sitting down on the bed as another flash from the storm shines in through the window, making his eyes brighten a shade before they darken once more, blinking only once to my own eyes. He said my name again, and instead of answering, I divert my eyes, not wanting him to see the sadness and longing held behind him, even though through his empathy, he knows about it. It seemed futile for me to make such a movement.

I hear him sigh before there is an increased dip in the bed and a corn silk hand comes up to lightly rest no my shoulder, inviting and comforting, the first feeling of warmth I had experienced that night. I risked looking up at him and my heart nearly stopped beating as I noted that his face was very close to mine, possibly only inches apart. His mouth moves again in a breathless whisper; I cannot hear what he's saying, but the next thing I know, I can feel that mouth on mine, brushing lightly and gently, hesitant and wavering, and it was soon gone as though it were never there, the fading warmth the only evidence in its wake.

"You feel alone."

He says this just as quietly, loud enough for me to hear, his face still close to mine eyes looking right into mine, his hand moving from my shoulder to caress my cheek. My breath caught at the movement, the gesture more comforting that I had imagined. His cold is not like the cold in the room, not like the storm outside, and not like the darkness. It is a welcoming feeling, almost like real warmth, yet cooled down to a small inviting shiver as his index finger ran across the skin of my face, soothing and protective.

He repeats those three words again and I barely nod, looking down, as I do not have enough courage to look at him any longer. The hand on my cheek moves to pet my hair in another gentle gesture, causing my tension to fade to a degree and the darkness in me to draw back slightly. He asks me, no, whispers me a question, hope clear in his voice, signaling he would give anything for my answer, an honest answer, and straight from my mouth, not on my emotions. He is asking me why I feel that way, why I feel so alone even though he was right here, lying down next to me.

To be honest, I do not wish to answer his question. I want to cry and run away from it all, but I know I cannot. I had tried many times when I alive as a child, bringing pain on myself, and not even the sympathy of tears could comfort me. They did not comfort me, even now, no matter how I wished for them to come to me again.

The hand in my hair slowed to long strokes, ones that held meaning, yet the definition of such escaped me. I felt him get closer to me again, his hand falling behind me, his arm around my shoulder as he leans in and kisses me again, a second longer than the first, a chaste kiss that left the warmth behind again, only to fade a few moments later with the chill of the room.

"You're not alone."

He says this in just above a whisper, as quiet as the white doves' calls that could be heard all across Meifu, if one only listened hard enough. I opened my eyes slowly to look into the forests of his eyes, dodging trees as I ran past them, searching for the hidden spring within, the spring of the heart, somewhere that I could go to escape the lonely feeling that continued to want to drown me, suffocate me until my last breath.

He repeats the words again in a firm, but very gentle, cradling tone, softly putting his forehead to mine, hiding his alluring forest eyes behind his eyelids, sighing quietly as rain tapped on the window. I had almost forgotten about the storm; the loud thunder seemed to have calmed and the fire streaks seemed to have dimmed, the only sound now being the tears from the night, making their way to the earth from whence they had come.

I feel him nuzzle my neck in a more than friendly gesture, humming a soft tune to me, calming my nerves and pushing away the empty emotion I had previously felt. I soon recognized the song as a lullaby my sister sang to me after all the times I had gotten hurt by others; she sang the song to me in order stop my crying and bandage my wounds. She did it out of kindness, and I missed that kindness the most the very day I was chased away by other village boys until the river miles away, where the cold spray felt good against my scratched skin. To this very day, I missed Ruka. The song I now heard being hummed held me and relaxed me, allowing the song to fade out and stop for a moment as soft satin lips rested on mine again, leaving my mouth soon after and running across my cheeks, which I now realized were stained with tears.

I opened my mouth to say what I had wanted to tell him for a while, but he places his finger on my lips and quiets me. He pulled back ever so slightly, far enough to look into my eyes, yet close enough to feel his cool breath fanning my face. He then embraces me slowly, resting his head on my shoulder, his cool breath now fanning my hair and ghosting past my ear as he whispers to me.

He told me he knew what I was going to say, he knew how I felt, he knew what I thought, and he knew what I was afraid of doing. I am scared of driving him away, loosing him, and he can sense that, but he only hugs me tighter and says that he will never leave me, not if it meant never seeing me again, not if it meant leaving me all alone.

I can feel my heart thump in hope, a large spike of emotion as he utters his words to me, and the darkness within me vanishes, leaving me with a ray of light, a ray that could only shine in me when he was here, right by my side.

I'm not afraid anymore and I pull back slightly, looking through his eyes. He leans in and claims my lips again, though there is nothing chaste about this one. It was not hesitant like his earlier ones, but more of a needy kiss that had to have a response, had to have the love behind it. I did not need another moment to think. I gave it to him.

I cannot explain all of what happened this night, nor could I, even if I saw the events laid before my eyes in slow motion. He had taken control of me, not through a selfish advantage of my fear, but because I allowed him to take control. It was he who really needed to love me before I could love him. It was complicated, but after what he had been through, what he's still going through, and what I put him through, I can never say no to him, nor could I allow him to be pained again.

I realize that something happened that night, when he came to me. I remembered everything that night, but could not put it into real words. It's not when I feel the heaven of our skin against each others, not when I feel our lips locked in a fiery passion, but it's when our heartbeats matched together as our souls and minds synchronized, melding into one, revealing all of the other's emotions and desires, feeling and fears. We understood what the other needed and feared, we gave each other the desires and the courage to overcome what had plagued us for so long.

I lay in bed next to my sleeping lover; he breathes in and out slowly, silent to the now calm night and still, I can hear his voice in my ear, saying I wasn't alone, breathless with emotion as he told me he loved me, and past his lips slide moans of passion that I had longed to hear.

I realize now why he represents my ray of light within me. He looks and feels like an angelic being, something I wonder how I was so lucky to be bestowed upon, something that had given me more than I could have asked more. Sparkling innocence behind a wall of coldness, but it is not this night where he is normal. No, this night, he was himself; he was the heavenly being that no longer hide behind a mask of coldness and anger, but had shown to me openly the emotions he felt for me, the emotions I longed to have from someone and had been given. I had received the sparkling feeling that had ignited within me, a small flicker growing into a passionate flame that had only been given the energy to grow by his emotions and revealed self towards me.

I leaned over slightly and kissed his temple in a loving way; he stirs in my arms, curling more into me, and I welcomed it with open arms, allowing him to find comfort and warmth within me to cease his nightly horrors. I reached back behind me and slid the comforter back onto the bed to cover us. The rain has stopped and the clouds began to dissipate, showing a few of the stars and the pale silvery moon. It is then that I realize that when you have someone with you who loves you and cares for you, the comforter is always warm enough for both of you. And this night, it was warm for the both of us.

Owari