aln132

.:Prologue:. Every morning I come home and wonder if he was even there the night before. The bed is made, dishes cleaned, and there's no sign of him besides the neatly folded clothes of mine that were previously scattered on the floor. We never speak unless it's to determine when we'll see one another again, which makes this whole thing feel like a dream when he's gone. Where does he go? Why doesn't he try to contact me? He seems so happy when he's here with me. I just don't know. Maybe my sanity should be questioned at this point. .:Chapter  1:. I'm scrambling to get my keys into the apartment's impervious lock on a rainy afternoon. I hat

Sunlight dancing on my face and warmth spilling over my skin told me the sun was out and that I should probably crawl out of this miserable bed. I'm stretching and searching to be fully aware of the emptiness of my surroundings this morning. Beside me instead of the usual perky blond female I find an empty cold space and wrinkled sheets that fill the void. I yawn and rub at my eyes sleepily. I didn't sleep deeply enough to dream last night, and on top of that I tossed and turned incessantly. Tossing the blankets aside I give the offending window a glance before walking to the much too small bathroom in my apartment. Washing my face and inspec

I felt warmth embrace my shoulders and hold me close. Dumbfounded I sat in this consolation for a moment's time before recklessly throwing the first apology that came to my mind out there, "I'm so sorry, Dark. I would have never done such a thing if I were sober! I never drink. I'm straight and I don't know what came over-Wait. You aren't straight?" Leaning away from me to make eye contact with me he laughed, and I could only assume it was at my thrown together, hasty, and uncontrolled remarks and how quickly I became distracted from my shame. Narrowing my eyes and shifting my gaze to his dark lustrous eyes I waited patiently for him to expla

I just couldn't bear the screeching of a certain angry blond female any longer. I'm not normally someone to walk out of an argument, but this time I throw on my jeans and slip out of the door narrowly avoiding the girl I say I'm in love with. Slamming my apartment's entrance shut I take off down the stairs before she has a chance at keeping up with me, just in case she does decide to chase after me. The loud thud of my shoes against the stairs and the shuffling of my clothing can be heard all around as I'm just reaching the bottom floor of the dimly lit complex stairwell. Opening the door into the night I stumble onto the street and am met wi

I really couldn't tell you how long I had stayed after the night we finally held our first conversation with one another. I spent a long time after that night trying to find any solution to everything to make both the Skyloftians and demons happy and able to live with each other on the surface, but with the revival of someone as evil and heartless as Demise it was simply impossible. I don't know why Ghirahim was so bent on bringing him back anyway; he even seemed flabbergasted when Demise cast him aside like a piece of trash that fateful day. There was no way to remedy any of it really and guilt still floods my heart this very moment just con