:::::: Love Until Death - part 1

Notes: Yaoi, angst, etc. etc. First person, Aya's POV. Again. ::grin:: But it switches, because I felt like writing as Ken for a little while. Where the little row of stars are, after they fall asleep, is where it switches to Ken's POV. And it starts as a dream sequence, too. Joy. ^.^

There are some days that working is a lot of fun. And then there are the days that work is a living hell. Today is one of those days that's kind of in-between. I know I should be thankful that there's nobody coming in to pester us at the moment, but I feel restless. The others don't seem to notice, however. Ken's tucked away in his little niche making arrangements, singing along with the radio that's on at full blast. Youji's watering flowers, and Omi is clipping them for Ken.

So today would classify as a slow, boring day. I lean back in my chair behind the counter and let my gaze slowly roam over the flowers. They all -look- okay. Then again, my sister used to tease me about not even being able to keep a plastic flower alive. Therefore, I stay away from the flowers. My green thumb turned black somewhere along the line. Youji and I don't have an artistic bone in our bodies, so we don't arrange, either. Omi and Ken are the creative ones. Omi prefers to work with the customers, which leaves Ken to make arrangements.

It's cloudy and stormy outside, and we have all the lights on. Lightning streaks across the sky and thunder crashes, making Omi jump a little.

I can't help but grin at that, and I'm glad that the room is dark so nobody can see my face clearly. "Wait for it to come back on," I say in my general stoic voice.

A few seconds later, the lights flicker back on. I raise an eyebrow at the others, indicating that they should get back to work.

Youji, however, takes off his apron and tosses it aside. "I've got a date," he says. "Gotta get ready." He runs upstairs before any of us can protest.

Omi glances at his watch and blanches. "I have a study group! I'm going to be late!" He, too, removes his apron, but at least he hangs it up before he sprints out.

I sigh and look at Ken, but he's lost in his own little world, concentrating on his flowers and his music. I smile a little as I watch him. Seeing him so wrapped up in his work is so endearing. It's like he doesn't even know the rest of the world exists. He just sits there with his flowers and sings with the radio.

Chuckling a little, I unfold myself from my chair and walk around the shop, inspecting the flowers. I can water them, at least, and so I do.

After a few minutes, a new song comes on. Ken sings along, as usual, but the lyrics make me stop and blink. I've heard him sing it before, with a sad, wistful tone in his voice. Then, I wondered why he sounded so sad. Now, I could kick myself in the behind for not realising what he meant.

"And I'd give up forever to touch you, 'cause I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be, and I don't wanna go home right now." he sings, his voice a little louder than the radio. He has a beautiful singing voice, and so listening to him isn't painful at all. In fact, I love to hear him sing. But I really could kick myself for not figuring out his feelings earlier.

As he sings on, I let my thoughts drift to that night, the night I'd finally gotten up the courage to tell him how I felt. The night I entrusted my heart to him. I have no regrets about it, either. It's one of the few things in my life that I don't.

"And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am..."

That's the part of the song that I think fits me the best. I scoff at myself for a second, for having such silly thoughts. But it's true. Have I changed so much in so little time? It's only been four months. Four amazing months, that have basically passed in a happy daze. Before him, I was silent, cold, and alone. So alone. He's been the point of light and warmth in my life, and it took him getting hit by a car for me to realise it. He nearly died that day, and there would have been no taking anything back. Ever. It would have been over, forever. That thought makes my eyes sting and I blink quickly to keep tears from coming.

"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming, or the moment of truth in your lies. When everything feels like the movies, yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive..."

And that line, that's us. Weiß. I open my eyes again and gaze down at the pot of lilacs in front of me. The moment of truth in a million different lies is love, for me. For all of us, I think. We lie to ourselves by hiding our true feelings after missions. I certianly never let anyone show how terrified I am after everything's said and done. And as I lay awake at night, I wonder what kind of person I am, that I can't cry for anyone who's died by my hands. That I can't cry, for anything I've done. Sometimes it doesn't seem real. That night didn't seem real, until I saw him, broken and bleeding. Laying on the pavement, so, so still. And seconds before, he'd been gazing at me with softly sparkling green eyes.

"And I don't want the world to see me, 'cause I don't think they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am..." He's standing now, swaying a little with the beat as he sings. I watch him for a moment, stunned at his beauty and grace. He's lost himself in the music, like he does so often. I forget myself and just stare at him as he sings, his eyes closed, his head tilted back a little and his arms slightly out in front of him.

The song comes softly to an end, and he drops his arms and looks around, his eyes opening. They're a tad glazed, but after he blinks a few times, they come into sharp focus. He looks at me and blushes, realising I'd been watching. I just smile at him, feeling my face turn a bit hot. And here I'd thought I was old enough not to be affected by the curse of fair skin. But he can do that to me. He can make me blush, and nobody else can.

I put the watering jug and walk back to him. "You didn't," I reply. "I'm glad I got to hear you sing, Ken."

He smiles up at me, green eyes sparkling with joy and love. I marvel at this young man, how he can find -so- much joy in living. In just one song, in one compliment. The song starts to play on the radio again and I blink, wondering why they're playing it again.

However, never having been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I simply hold a hand out to Ken. He blinks, looking at me in confusion. Realization of what I want dawns on him seconds later and a wide smile appears on his face. He takes my hand and I pull him close, putting my arms around him. He embraces me as well, and together, we move to the music.

I bury my nose in his hair and close my eyes. It's been so long since I danced. The last time must have been in high school.. ye gods, four years ago. The last high school dance I went to was four years ago. I cringe mentally. Have I -really- changed that much in four years? It seems hard to believe. But Ken melted the ice I'd built around my heart. He slipped in without my noticing, and I almost missed my chance to tell him. Out of all the things about him, that's the one thing I regret. Not having told him sooner.

Then again, who knows how long it'd been before I could actually put a name to the emotion I felt? I'd never been in love with anyone before. Certianly, I loved people - my parents and sister, for example, and the rest of my family. But never like this, never anyone before. Not until I met Ken. And even then, it took a little while. It crept up on me, and then, when I least expected it, it bashed me over the head and left my senses reeling.

He holds me tighter suddenly, and I smile gently into his hair, tighting my arms around him in response. Because I was cold to him so long, now he fears that I might go back to the way I had been. The thought sickens me, though. I was cold because I didn't understand, not because I didn't care about him. Every time I hold him, I try to silently reassure him. Never again will I be the way I was. Not to him. After everything I've shared with him, I couldn't go back to being that way. It'd break my heart, as well as his.

I spare a moment to wonder briefly what had made him fall in love with someone like me. I try not to dwell too much on it, however, lest I seem like I don't -want- it that way. And I do, more than anything.

The song ends again, and just as the last chord fades out, the power flickers out again. Youji and Omi are gone; we're all alone here in the dark. He gazes up at me with a million different emotions in his eyes. I look back at him, my own eyes half closed. Slowly, I lower my head to his, and kiss him. He returns the kiss, pressing against me slightly. Outside, thunder crashes, and rain starts pouring down with a vengance. But inside, we're safe and warm, and happy.

After the kiss ends, we're both slightly breathless. He smiles brilliantly at me. "Let's close the shop," he suggests. "We won't get any customers at all in this."

I nod, not trusting my voice. For some reason, my mind kept going back to that night and the accident. Being seperated from him now would absolutely kill me, and I wonder if I haven't made a mistake in this.

When he returns from pulling the shades down and locking the door, however, I feel a sense of calm. He once told me that love was worth it, for the happiness one felt during it. Then, I'd replied sharply, telling him that love could only cause pain. Now, I see that he was right. He reaches out and takes my hand, leading me back upstairs to our apartment. He locks the door at the top of the stairs and releases my hand, walking to the couch and flopping onto it. We kick our shoes off; he tosses his randomly over towards me and I chuckle, putting them next to mine.

I nod and sit in an armchair next to the sofa, tucking my legs under me. It's a habit I developed recently. "We haven't exactly been sleeping much," I point out.

I feel my face heat up again and look down, letting my hair hide it. "I'm glad," I mutter. It's not that what he says doesn't make me happy, it's just embarassing. After hiding behind an emotional wall for so long, it takes a little while to adjust.

He senses this and backs off. "I think I'm gonna sleep tonight, though, if you don't mind." He's interrupted by a yawn, and then he goes on. "I'm really tired."

I look up and smile, nodding. "Aa. Let's do that," I reply. "We have a mission tomorrow night, and staying up most of the night tonight won't help either of us."

After brushing our teeth and such things, we walk to his room. I like it more there anyway. When the door is closed, I weave my way through the clutter. "You should clean this," I say.

He snorts. "You sound like my mother," he says. "Ken," he mimicks, "clean your room! It's such a trash pit!"

I laugh at his imitation and strip down to my boxers, putting my clothes in a neat pile where I'll be sure to find them again. I'm amazed that Ken can find -anything- in this mess. It's terrible.

Ken yawns and does the same thing, tossing his clothes in random directions. I chuckle and shake my head. I pull the covers back and crawl in, and he follows me. After getting comfortable, he pulls the blankets over us and shifts again, pressing against me. I hold him close and he yawns. "Oyasumi, Aya," he says.

"Hm?" he says, looking up at me with sleepy and confused eyes. He looks so cute that I chuckle softly and kiss his forehead.

He looks confused for a moment, and then it clicks. They'd all known that Aya wasn't my real name. It was rather obvious, I thought. "Ran," he says softly, almost shyly.

I love the sound of my name when he says it and I nod slowly. "Aa," I reply in a whisper. "Oyasumi, Ken."

Smiling up at me, he kisses me softly. "Oyasumi.. Ran," he murmurs. We relax in eachother's arms, and it doesn't take either of us long at all to fall asleep.

I feel like I'm floating. It takes me a moment to realise I really -am-. Below me is water, an endless stretch of crystal clear water. I see someone floating in it, under it, looking up at me.

I turn, looking for the source of the voice. It's male, I can tell that much, even from the whisper. I look back down at the person in the water, and I gag as I see that the water is slowly turning red from blood.

The figure in the water sinks out of view and I'm falling. And as I'm about to hit the ground, someone catches me. It's the same person who was in the water. He gazes at me, his eyes an intense blue.

Unable to break away or to do anything, I stare at him. "I'll always wait," he repeats. I realise he was the speaker before, and I open my mouth to ask who he is.

But before I can, the water rushes back up again, claming both of us. He drags me down, and I hear cruel laughter. I fight to get away, but I can't. The water's smothering me, and I just know I'm gonna die -- ...

A soothing voice wakes me, someone softly murmuring reassurances into my ears. I realise that I'm crying and shaking. I feel almost detached, and I wonder why I'm crying as I curl closer to him. I know I'm not totally awake, which is why my mind feels none of the pain my body apparantly does.

That soothing voice keeps whispering to me, and the owner strokes my hair and rubs my back. I feel myself drifting off again, my tears slowing. As I sink into oblivion again, I whisper his name.

The next time I wake up, it's slowly and normally. I yawn a little and open my eyes to look at the figure next to me. Aya is still sleeping peacefully. I smile and cuddle closer, enjoying the warmth that radiates from him. He sighs softly in his sleep and wraps an arm around my waist. I feel peaceful, but not like I could fall back asleep. I have no idea what time it is, but since nobody's come to get us, I assume we still have time to lay together.

The sun's shining through the window onto the bed, bathing us both in warm sunlight. As strange as it may seem, I get cold very easily. I'm a creature of the sunlight, I adore being warm and try to make myself that way at all times. Sleeping next to Aya helps immensely. Before I was with him, my bed was cold until about two hours after I'd fallen asleep. So I'd just lay there and shiver. But once he started sleeping with me every night, it's been wonderful. He finds the most creative ways to warm me up.

A slow smile spreads across my face as I think of that. He's come so far in the past four months. I've managed to draw him out of his shell, and he's the warm person I always knew he was. To me, at least. To the others, he hasn't changed much. Naturally, though, because the best way to let someone know that something's up is to change. But to me, he's perfect. Absolutely perfect.

My radio alarm decides to go off at that exact moment. I brighten when I hear the song, it's one of my favorites. I sing along softly as I rest in Aya's arms. "You know where you've sent her, you should know where you are.. you're trying to ease up, but you know you won't get far. And now she's not there.. sings like an angel... unforgivable sinner.."

"Ken," says Aya, his eyes still closed and his voice low and husky from sleep. "You know how much I love you, but would you please turn that off?"

He rolls onto his back and opens luminous amethyst eyes, gazing at me. "Is there a song in existance you don't love?" he asks.

I pretend to think it over and he laughs, grabbing me and pulling me down so I'm laying next to him again. "Baka," he accuses gently.

I blush and cuddle closer to him. He might still be a tad cold during the day, but when he's just woken up or is about to fall asleep, he's absolutely adorable. And the fact that he'd never show this side of him to anyone but me is exhilerating. "Should we get up?" I murmur.

I laugh. "That's just what I had it set for last," I say. "Remember, I didn't have to work until one yesterday."

He snorts and tosses the covers back, swinging long legs over the side of the bed and standing up. He stretches, and I get the impression he's preening for me. I grin and relax into the pillows, content to lay still and watch him. He rolls his eyes at me. "Get up," he says. "If, that is, you want to take a shower.." He arches a suggestive brow.

With a wide grin, I get up as well. "Lead on," I say, giving him a mock salute. He chuckles and does so.

Together, we walk to the bathroom, and I lock the door behind us, leaning against it. I grin. "Hope nobody's gonna need to use the bathroom for the next hour," I say innocently.

I snicker and take almost wicked glee in stripping my boxers off and tossing them aside. His eyes roam over me and he meets my gaze again with a smirk.

I just grin. "I don't have any shame at all when you're concerned," I say lightly. "They say that if you've got it, you should flaunt it."

"Naturally," I reply. I turn the water on and look over my shoulder as I step in to the shower. "You coming?"

Smirking, he strips and gets in. "I'm gonna assume you mean if I'm getting into the shower," he says. He steps under the warm spray and tilts his head back, the water turning his bright red hair a lovely dark maroon. With a smile, I grab the shampoo and put some in my hand. As soon as he's out from under the water, I lather the shampoo into his hair.

He chuckles. "Good luck, I guess," he replies. "Could be the shampoo. Yours is soft too." I grin. "Must be the shampoo, then, because we use the same." I say. I let my hands trail down his neck and then drop to my sides. "Done," I say. "You can rinse it out."

After he's done doing that, he motions me under the water. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, raising my hands to smooth my hair back and make sure all of it's wet. He then proceeds to shampoo my hair for me. The feeling of his hands in my hair makes my scalp tingle deliciously. It feels really great to have him play with my hair. I close my eyes as he makes sure every inch of it is done, then he pushes me gently back under the spray, letting me rinse it out.

When I'm done, I step out from under the spray and look at him. He's holding a washcloth, lathered up with soap. He gives me a grin I can only call evil and closes the short distance between us, running the cloth over my chest. I close my eyes again and put my hand on the wall for support. I'm not quite sure when he became bold enough to do things like this to me, but whenever it was, it works. I can feel myself reacting to the way he's washing me and blink my eyes open, gazing blindly at the back wall of the shower.

He runs the cloth lower on my body and my breath hitches, becoming irregular. It feels so good, so good, and he's -almost there-...

Someone bangs on the door and yells at us, making us both jump. He jerks the cloth away and spins around, cursing darkly.

"What do you want?" he yells back. "I'm in the shower!" I grin a little, noticing he didn't include me. Even though I'm sure they know about us now, he doesn't want me to become the focus of ridicule.

No reply for a moment, then a soft snickering that fades away. Aya scowls, and I just laugh, taking the cloth from him and finishing the job he started. I hand it back to him to let him wash and rinse the soap off myself, stepping out of the shower.

"I suppose I should get used to intimate moments with you getting interrupted," he gripes as he washes off.

I chuckle and towel my hair, and then my body. "Sorry, Aya, but duty calls," I reply. "If Manx's got a mission for us, we'd better take it."

He sighs and shuts the water off, stepping out of the shower. He looks absolutely delicious standing there with wet hair and water dripping down his firm body. I've never considered it a bad thing to give in to temptation, so I embrace him and nuzzle his neck. He wraps his arms around me and sighs again.

My voice is muffled when I reply. "You're probably right, but.." I tilt my head to look up into his eyes. "When's that stopped either of us before?"

He smiles down at me, a full, radiant smile. "It hasn't," he replies, lowering his face to mine. He kisses me gently and I kiss him back, pressing against him. However, the usual passion that's there is gone now, or at least to a lesser degree. This kiss is warm and loving, and it makes me melt bonelessly into his arms.

When he pulls back, we're both dazed. Our faces inches apart, we simply stare deeply into eachothers eyes, not saying anything. I feel a soft blush start on my face, and see it reflected on his. "Ran.." I whisper, making his blush intensify.

"Ai shiteru," I breathe, hugging him tighter. Now that my injuries have finally healed - well, almost, I still feel twinges every now and then - I can hug him as tightly as I want to.

After a few moments of standing there in a warm embrace, he pulls away and looks at me mournfully. "We really should hurry," he says.

I close my eyes briefly and nod, opening them again. "Aa," I reply. We get dressed silently. He picks up the brush and looks at me, a question in his eyes. I smile and nod, and he stands behind me, brushing my hair out carefully. I do the same for him and we hurry downstairs to where Manx and the meeting description are.