Sometimes I think I might be crushed under the weight of my insignificance. Your bright, honest eyes looking into mine, your clear laugh echoing down the marble hall of my memory— they crack the glass of my insecurity; your faith in me flushes a prism down into my rib cage, casting light on every shadow. My body aches beneath your feather weight. When you reach for me, I open to you like a flower to the sun, but I am not the only one that benefits from your light. There, I become lost in my inability to reciprocate your gift. I am a parasite feeding on your gentle promises and your absolute acceptance, clinging to the recesses of our juvenile relationship. When will you realize I have nothing to offer you? When will the heavy door close, sealing me into a part of your past? Your eyes narrow and you ask me if something is wrong; I am paralyzed under this weight.

The presence of you is heavy and warm. I know you don't realize it, but you demand love from the people who know you. I feel it's impossible that anyone should dislike you entirely. You are too forgiving, too congenial— everyone is touched by your reverence. Your love presses hard against my jaded heart, your acceptance so unequivocal as makes my chest ache. How anyone could feel worthy of you, I don't know still. I recoil from your wanting hands— it's a love I couldn't possibly deserve. When I see your face I feel the distress and discomfort I pushed upon you; I see your widened eyes and feel your esteem growing smaller against my brutish hand. Your mercy adjacent my ignorance, the words I can't take back, the shame that chokes me silent now, I feel them tugging at my spine. I feel the fault line deep in my body that so starkly separates me from who I used to be and I throw myself violently against its sharp edges. You, who asks that I be responsible with such a gentle hand; you, who refuses to blame me for what I did; you, who expects me to accept such love as punishment: how can you ask that of me? I am sure I will be crushed.

The fragile state of things as they are threatens my balance. I want to fall into you, deep into you, and never be released, but then I want to pull back because you are too great. I want to dive down into your murky caverns and bury myself in your absolution. I want to scale along the trenches that mark the darkest parts of your heart so that I can really know you, so I can really accept you as you have me, but where are the darksome parts? You wrap me so tightly in love that I crave your very worst— but what is your very worst? I might call it your hesitance to believe in yourself despite your incredible strength. You destroy yourself so often by thinking that you are alone; I want so much to put myself between you and that fear. What can I do, though, but be here with you to show you that you aren't? I beg to reciprocate each thing you give me, but you give me everything. From what could you gain but my presence and how could that be enough? How could that be anything at all?

I am astounded that one person so seemingly small and powerless could spark such regret in me. You did not even ask it of me, though I felt in the keenest way that I owed it to you and know that I still do. Your unwavering kindness acted as a mirror that reflected my own hideous face upon me so that I was able to realize my ugliness and change— that was the greatest gift I have ever received. You would not allow me to be hurt when I deserved it, though, and you will not allow me to be punished for it still. Your compassion renders me completely inept, I can't accept it. How can I show you that your defense of my integrity when I had none allowed me to see myself for what I was, that it made me want to be able to become someone really worthy of your defense? How can I show you that I could never leave you? After all you have done for me, for everything that you are, I want to always be beside you and try to give you what you have given me. Your hands reach for me again but I'm lost in myself— I know I cannot give you what you gave me because there is no ugliness in you, just fear. How do I become enough so that you will not be afraid? How can I pretend that my presence should ease your fear after everything I did to frighten you?

Your fingers grasp for mine, the grain of your fingertips brushing against the back of my hand. I still can't deny myself of you either— I hesitantly reach for you back, but it's impossible to reach you all at once like I want to. When I touch you, I tie myself to you. Your fingertips draw me to yours, but I am pulled in toward the curve of your slender arms, the subtle prominence of your clavicles, the gentle angle of your jaw, the bow of your slight rib cage, the recession of your narrow waist, and the contour of your ample thighs. The landscape of your body stretches out before me and I am only reminded of my insignificance, my flaws. You change everyone. You love the darkness inside of us and it makes us hurt. What else can we do in the light of your unwarranted approval? I hate that you're so forgiving. I hate that you won't punish me, and worse you will only love, love, love. I press my lips hard against your jaw, open my mouth against your pale throat, hold you too tightly, and still your arms blithely wrap around my bruised shoulders and you pull me closer. Honda and I were crushed under your weight, I know Kaiba was crushed, too— If Anzu had any darkness inside of her, I'm sure you exorcised it long ago. Bakura and Malik both fell beneath your heavy love, how is it that you should change everyone so easily but you won't let anyone ease your fear?

Your heart is heavy and undeniable. I know there is darkness inside of you and I know it's fear, and if I ever do anything, I want to make sure you are never afraid. You kiss me first and I can't breathe. It's foreign and deep in a way that makes every part of me ache. You. Yuugi. Why you should choose me now— me— after everything— I kiss back so hard it hurts. You open your mouth into mine and I'm sure the weight will suffocate me when you pull away. When I am not lost in you, where am I? Your fingers push through my hair and you move with me as I lower my lips to your stomach. My chest aches so deeply— I know you want this, you want this from me, but I cannot fathom why. My thumbs rub against the bones of your hips and you brush the back of your hand against my face. I hold your hand and kiss it, pressing your warm palm onto my lips. You have no idea what you are to so many people.

Every time after it happens, I'm sure I felt you were going to say it before you did, but I have doubts. What if one day you don't say it when I swear you were about to? I don't want to expect it because I don't even deserve it now. I think I am truly more afraid than even you. I press your palm so hard against my face it hurts me; you know, so you pull away. You brush my bangs out of my eyes and smile. You say it again. When I look at you I feel my heart racing so fast in my chest I know I could cry. I do sometimes and you love me more. I've started to shake and I'm ashamed that my body reveals me so easily, but I am still not used to it. Will I ever be? I love you, too, of course, of course I do— who wouldn't? Who doesn't? Yes, I love you— but why me? Why me? I push my face into the side of your stomach and press both my hands against each of your thighs. Your breath resonates between hitch and gasp as I map out stars on your legs with my fingertips. I drag along between them to form constellations, tracing out the imaginary lines of the stardust that became you and me. I kiss your stomach, your hips, your ribs and you pull your hands against my shoulders, aching deep in the back of your spine. For me, I remind myself, you ache for me.

By the time I've drawn our entire galaxy on your body, you are hard-pressed for air and your face is flushed. I've done nothing but kiss you and be close to you, but there's nothing you love more. I find your mouth and kiss you again and again, your encouraging hands burning me everywhere they touch. There's nothing you love more than me, you say, and my self-reproach is stifled by your encompassing approbation. I move to raise your lithe body above me where I feel you belong, casting a brilliant shadow over my ugliness, but still opening my hollow chest to all your light. One day I will understand you, one day I will cast myself above you and show you the greatest love you truly deserve. For now I must have you above me, reigning over my entity, your weight pressing down against me crushing my insecurity. Your pallor against my bruised skin heavily marks the separation of you and me. I kiss you twice long and hold your smiling face in my hands. I, beneath you, venerate your body sublime.