You Belong With Me.
tell me you love me.
"Bakura!"
He yelled as loud as his accented voice would allow. He could hear the splashes that were made as the soles of his shoes slapped into the puddles of rainwater, but would Bakura hear his cries over the rain?
He continued to call out his name, running in every direction. People he passed gave him both strange and worried looks. Ignoring the unfamiliar faces, he searched for only one.
The voice of his conscience was pleading with him to wait until the rain ceases to pour, but another was shrieking for him to hurry, knowing Bakura, he might've provoked someone and...
No. The former thief could take care of himself.
With a lack of air in his lungs, his run soon slowed to a stand. Resting his hands on his knees, he kept his head raised. The wet strands of white dripped endlessly with rain, but past it, he saw a figure sitting with his back against the wall to one of the many buildings. At the sight of the white hair, relief was mixed into sadness, mixed into the urge to smile, mixed into...something he couldn't identify.
"Bakura!" Running to stand in front of the drenched silverette, he felt his legs go weak. "I've been looking all over for you; what are you doing, sitting out here in the rain? You'll get sick!"
Bakura, who avoided Ryou's concerned gaze, dropped his head to look at his lap. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, though he made sure Ryou heard him over the rain. Ryou fell to his knees in front of the other, reaching forward to hold his face in his hands. Bakura's skin was chilled by the rain, but the contact, however small, felt..warm. Gently, he raised Bakura's face, so he could look into the similar brown eyes.
When they made eye contact, Bakura saw how tired the boy was, how even though the drop in temperature, due to the rain, caused his skin to be even paler, his cheeks were flushed with a bright pink. He could see his skin through the soaked shirt...
His hand found it's way to the back of Ryou's neck, gently pulling him closer. He didn't know what he was doing; neither did Ryou. But..he wanted it. He knew that, and so did Ryou. The soft, warm friction of just their lips..
They were so drenched, cold, and warm, they didn't notice the rain stop.
He yelled as loud as his accented voice would allow. He could hear the splashes that were made as the soles of his shoes slapped into the puddles of rainwater, but would Bakura hear his cries over the rain?
He continued to call out his name, running in every direction. People he passed gave him both strange and worried looks. Ignoring the unfamiliar faces, he searched for only one.
The voice of his conscience was pleading with him to wait until the rain ceases to pour, but another was shrieking for him to hurry, knowing Bakura, he might've provoked someone and...
No. The former thief could take care of himself.
With a lack of air in his lungs, his run soon slowed to a stand. Resting his hands on his knees, he kept his head raised. The wet strands of white dripped endlessly with rain, but past it, he saw a figure sitting with his back against the wall to one of the many buildings. At the sight of the white hair, relief was mixed into sadness, mixed into the urge to smile, mixed into...something he couldn't identify.
"Bakura!" Running to stand in front of the drenched silverette, he felt his legs go weak. "I've been looking all over for you; what are you doing, sitting out here in the rain? You'll get sick!"
Bakura, who avoided Ryou's concerned gaze, dropped his head to look at his lap. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, though he made sure Ryou heard him over the rain. Ryou fell to his knees in front of the other, reaching forward to hold his face in his hands. Bakura's skin was chilled by the rain, but the contact, however small, felt..warm. Gently, he raised Bakura's face, so he could look into the similar brown eyes.
When they made eye contact, Bakura saw how tired the boy was, how even though the drop in temperature, due to the rain, caused his skin to be even paler, his cheeks were flushed with a bright pink. He could see his skin through the soaked shirt...
His hand found it's way to the back of Ryou's neck, gently pulling him closer. He didn't know what he was doing; neither did Ryou. But..he wanted it. He knew that, and so did Ryou. The soft, warm friction of just their lips..
They were so drenched, cold, and warm, they didn't notice the rain stop.
♠ ♠ ♠
swallowed in the sea;the scientist;
-coldplay.