His room seemed to tremble just as his heart did on that fateful day. The dim light of the lamp on his bedside table flickered as his body emitted such a hateful aura. He wanted to be engulfed in a madness beyond his reach; a madness that questioned his sanity, his existence and overall, his heart. He wished with his whole being that somehow, some way, the weight that had been draped over his shoulders would magically vanish, taking all that which burdened his mind into a void beyond the universe. Everything, even his memories of her. If all he could have was memories, he wanted so badly to put them in a box and weld it closed and plunge it into the nearest sea with such force that it would burst into tiny particles disappear in the deepest, darkest trench, never to be seen for all eternity.

The thought of her being drowned in the arms of that Pureblood Hell made his blood boil. He became unaware of his surroundings in a mere second as he threw his fists against the wall. His teeth crunched against the insides of his cheeks and held fast onto his bottom lip, hard enough to pierce the pale flesh and draw blood. The pain was nothing to him. But she mattered! The girl who took half of his cold heart with her! While in the same instance, he could visualize the small girl pressing her naked skin against the Devil's with love and passion reflecting in her glass eyes. He threw his head back in agony, silver strands falling away from his tearing eyes as his hands flew to his head as if to stop the disgusting vision; the boy almost let out a horrible scream but instead gasped for air, panting painfully. To stop himself, he threw his body back against the head-frame of his bed and drifted back to consciousness. His brain felt like it was about to explode from the tension he kept inside of him. He knew it was unhealthy. He was unhealthy. He was close to becoming an emotional wreck. What was the subject of his life now that she was taken from his view? What was his purpose, except to see her smile as they stood side by side as the Cross Academy's Disciplinary Committee? It was always apparent to him that those days, the good old days, would never be since that Spawn of the Kurans came and brought back that girl's memories. Memories that he felt she would have been better off without. Would it be a crime to wish for those days to come back?

Chuckling weakly to himself, his set his body into a more comfortable position and rested his arm over his eyes. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face and a shaky hand rested against the swell of his neck where she had nipped him, once. His face twisted with grief as he ran two fingers over that spot. His mouth thinned into a straight line and his eyebrows furrowed. Those same two fingers drew a line straight to his hidden lips and as they uncurled, he remembered the first and only kiss they had shared. A shudder ran through his body and that arm was casted to the edge of the bed. Moments later, after Zero had stared at his ceiling, abnormal snoring came from the boy as he tried to overcome his nightmares.

x | | I wish my head could tell my heart to get it right. | | x