Rating: K - T
Summary: Written for an english assessment, and somehow ended up being a [anti?] NejiTen. Prompt: "Every journey is a journey to the interior"
Some confirmation, for your imagination- this type of situation goes on and on.
Your hair, your eyes, your skin…it all seems so surreal. You are emotionless, immovable- steel. Where is all that fire? The passion, the rage, the defiance? You used to fight with me, match me blow for blow, your blades cutting my skin like a lover’s caress. You were a force of nature.
How many times have we walked side by side, your footprints (how small they were compared to mine!) in the dust beside my own? How many times have we shared those stolen moments, in secret alcoves only lovers knew?
What is it that eats away at your soul? Rips up your heart, tears at your eyes and spits you out at the other end, useless and mute? Remorse? Hatred? Love?
No, it cannot be.
You stand there, so calm and collected, but tears glimmer at the corners of your silver-moon eyes. It makes no sense. You never were one for sentiments and attachments. What happened to me? What happened to you? I cannot bear the sight of you now, whimpering and crying like a… like a child. You never grew up. Trapped by your cage of Fate and Hatred, you’ll never see that the door is wide open. A caged bird of Fate- or of Choice?
Why do you reminisce? The past is all you care about; that moment when your soul was torn asunder. Your father was murdered. Your mother died of “heartbreak”. You, addicted to the romance of tragedy, swore vengeance. And I? I had stood by your side with a soothing voice and tears of sadness. I forced your barriers open for you and you stood in the path of the floodwaters, swept away by your own emotions.
What is it, do you think, that makes you so completely reliant upon me? Vengeance? Regret? Love?
No- you’ve got to be kidding me.
How dare you feel that you can sweep me up in your arms and everything will be the same again? I’m not the same person, and the whole world fucking knows that you’re completely different. You have no right to-
There it is now- anger. Not a cold rage, but a spark. A glimpse of the fire that runs so hot in your sweet, sweet blood. Your porcelain mask is finally cracking away. You can’t turn away from me now; it has been too long since you’ve felt anything. But your eyes are still hard. Why won’t you melt in my arms again? You remain frozen and unmoved; but as I capture your lips, you flare with anger, and I taste my blood in my mouth. It’s sweet and hot, as sensuous as anything else- you taste it too. There is a look of surprise in your face- your mind forgot, but your lips are still greedy for more. I smirk. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as I feared.
This is…so familiar. Why does it feel so familiar? I have not felt your hands upon my skin in so long- too long. I’m dizzy, I’m breathless, I’m asphyxiated, I’m drowning… and in the midst of it all, something slips off my tongue and lingers before you like… hope. You search my eyes for guile and when you find none, you kiss me again. Why is it that we cannot comprehend… love?
Anger and Lust- it was all the same for them, an endless spiral down into Chaos. In spite of everything, they were still one. He was her darkness as she was his light. She was his Sun as he was her Moon. As one, they would ravage the other until they shattered, and pieced each other back together to do it all over again. It was a vicious cycle of hysterical ataraxia- of Anger, Lust and Chaos. They were addicted to the pain, the torment; the suffering was how they defined their lives. It was who they were, and how it would always be.
Breathe, softly before I scream.