Every thing about it was so damn wrong, so very damn wrong. But they had learned to ignore the stares, trained themselves to block their ears. All for the each other.

Everyone told them that it was foolish, 'infatuation', not love. It couldn't possibly be love.

Everyone was wrong.

They were told to stop before they got too far in, told to never see the other again, told it was 'all for the best.'

They strived to make it work, there were rough patches, some things could simply not be fixed, but they came out of it stronger then they had been.

Lips whispered apologies and words of love and care. Arms held and comforted. Eyes shined with tears and secret regrets.

Names were moaned and cried over, names no longer had a place in their love. Words didn't even have a place, silent glances were used instead. Traded like currency.

No one approved, no one except themselves, and that was all they really needed after all - so others bitingly harsh words soon grew meaningless.

Their love was more real than anything else could ever possibly claim to be, it wasn't a statement, it was a fact.

Age ceased to mean nothing at all. Who ever let a stupid thing like age get in the way of things? Especially something so grandiose as their affections.

Dreams were realised and crushed all at the same time, but they still had each other.

It may not have been perfect, but it was pretty damn close. Their very own utopia that they could lose themselves in.

AN:

Alois x Tanaka, serious style. :D

. . .

Ignore this BS.