Sketches by Crayons
and Designs for Damage
Kyo x Ryou
In times of trouble, it is said that most people take comfort in the fact
that somewhere in the world, someone else is going through the exact
same thing too. Kyo called bullshit on the matter.
It made no difference to Kyo what strangers were going through. It was
someone else's problem and Kyo couldn't bring himself to care the maybes
and what-ifs of some strangers life. This was here and now and it was happening
If only he knew what was happening--- or what he was doing. He was in love with
Ryou and that seemed to be his all expense paid ticket to somewhere he
never thought he'd be. He couldn't describe it. A lyricist without a rhyme.
A sad afterthought of someone who didn't think about what he was getting himself into.
Ryou didn't love him. Not really. Kyo knew it without being told. Ryou was
using him. For this or that, none of it mattered. Ryou needed him and right or
wrong didn't exist here in this wordless place.
Kyo sat there and watched Ryou pour them both a cup of tea....
waiting. hoping. knowing. silence.
Letting it all play out.
it. hurt. so. much.
Windows open, forgotten, the damp calm-before-the-storm drifting in and
settling on the walls. Papers, lyrics, poems, dispersed to all corners.
Kyo, on the floor, his arms curved like broken wings beneath him. Cool
to the touch, the rise and fall of bare shoulders in breath. He was
beautiful in his own way, pencil still in hand.
"I'm supposed to be the one that sleeps on the floor," Ryou murmured, giving Kyo's
slumbering corpse an unconvincing nudge with his boot-tip.
Kyo slept on.
Ryou sat down beside him. Quiet. Sad. Head resting against knees. He watched
humidity form little tear drops of water on Kyo's skin. Watched as they slipped
down the slight curve of his back.
"It looks like rain," he said tiredly.
Not that Kyo heard him.
"I love you by the way," Ryou added. "Just thought you should know..."
Outside the rain began to fall.