ninjabunny1

"I've got this friend…" Lukas looks up from his drink. Never before in this bar has a tablemate actually tried to start a conversation with him, and he likes it that way. He's in no mood for talking. But the man doesn't stop. "Do you now." The blonde across the table grins at him. "He's a handsome devil. But he's lonely as hell." "Is he." "He acts cool for his friends, and he does his best to make sure everyone around him is happy. Really though, he's just a romantic sap who wants someone to fall in love with." "Hm." "But I think, if that person came along, he'd make them happier than they've ever been. He's just not sure how to f

When the morning comes he'll rise at precisely six, just like every morning. He'll shuffle over to the shower and run some warm water before slipping off his bedclothes and folding them on the counter with neat creases. Then he'll step into the water gingerly. He'll wash his hair carefully and maybe hum a few bars of a composition that's been tossing around in his mind for a while. When all soap is free of his body he'll stare for an unusually long time at the tiles on the wall before twisting the water off and wrapping his towel around his waist. Through the steam of the bathroom he'll make his way to the sink and splash some icy water ont

To the common person, Lukas seems unreadable. It's understandable. I had the same misconception when I was just getting to know him, as a little kid. But when you know him long enough, like I have, his emotions get a lot easier to comprehend. The tilt of his head shows his amusement, the knitting of his eyebrows tells you how pissed he is, and a few wrinkles around his eyes betrays the fact that internally, he's beaming. And I have always prided myself in being not only one of the few people who can read him so well, but also one of the few people who can inspire so much emotion in him. But, when I walk into his hospital room, he is literal

I wake up. That's it. One moment there is nothing, and then the next I'm awake. That's it. There's a dull throbbing in my head. No, not dull. The longer I remain in existence the more prominent it becomes. I feel my eyes clenching shut against the ache. My eyes. I don't want to, but I open them. In an instant my senses are flooded with images. The pounding in my skull quickens, and I shut my eyes immediately against the pain. Ah. The darkness is nice and minimal, and for a few minutes I rest. But then I'm curious. I take a cautious sniff to the air. Alcohol, I decide. The medical kind. How do I know that? Ever so slowly this time I pry

Warning: really really strong language (this is Romano guys) and sexual references I hate Valentine's Day. It's just a god-awful holiday that happy people invented to make everybody else feel bad about themselves. It's just a day where all the lonely people get pounded down their throats that nobody in the world wants them. But don't think you're safe when you've actually got someone - now there's a whole crapload of expectations put on the both of you to make the day "romantic" and "special" and "perfect." Which it won't be. Cause it's a fucking crappy holiday. And just when I finally had someone who might make me feel a little less mis

It's sunny, the day it happens. Chilly, yes - it always is where we live. But the sunlight is refracting off the ice, brightening our bedroom. Lukas is on the left side of our bed, with his back to me.  His hair is splayed out slightly on his pillow "Lukas," I say quietly. He's not a morning person, so I've long since learned that I need to be careful when waking him. But instead of telling me to please shut up, he doesn't react. I cautiously reach out a hand to shake him awake. But when my fingers brush him, I recoil. His skin is cold to the touch. "Lukas?" I say again, alarmed. Again he doesn't respond, and for the first time I notice

Lukas is losing his mind. It isn't something he admits to anyone. He hardly admits it to himself. I know if he had his way I wouldn't know either, but you can't spend that much time with someone and not notice something like that. And besides, someone needs understand him. It's mostly the hallucinations. They aren't like normal ones, that happen along with real life. Instead, Lukas's consciousness freezes in time. And in a single moment, hours pass in his mind, in which anything can happen. He tells me they're indistinguishable from real life. The clocks stop, he says. But I hardly pay attention to the clocks. It's terrifying, when he co

Roderich was in his happy place. For him, there was truly no better place than standing on the podium and guiding that little baton with his fingertips. There was no better feeling than knowing that some fifty people were before him, adhering to his every command and executing them with perfection. Nothing made him feel more magical than the sound of an entire orchestra, perfectly together, perfectly in tune, perfectly following his rhythm. It made him absolutely euphoric. The only thing that would make it better would be to have an audience. But in a week he'd have one; for now he settled for rehearsal. His orchestra was just reaching the

"Dammit…Don't go…" A plead. I can't leave. I have nowhere to go. "Please…" Sobs. Dry, broken ones that shake his entire body. "Feli…I'm so sorry…" A gasping breath. "I never…It was never supposed to go this far, this was never supposed to happen…" I say nothing because I have nothing to say. All those people, dead… "Feli!" A shout. He removes his hands from his face, and those steely cold blues are burning red now. "You have to believe me! I never wanted this…" Those steely blues, looking up at me with a helplessness that terrifies me. "I believe you," I say. But I don't know if I do. A s

They say that having a child makes men of boys. It's actually the other way around. When a man has a child, it brings out the boy in him that hasn't been there for a long time. I see it in Antonio. Usually he's so composed, but around her, he's completely the opposite. Instead he makes mistakes to make her laugh, and says ridiculous things to make her smile. There's a playfulness in him that I never saw before she was born. Around her, he sort of…glows. Not that he didn't before. It's just that now, it's so much more obvious and permanent. So when I happen to see them in the kitchen, and catch Antonio dropping something just so that s