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[personal profile] countlessuntruths in [community profile] fictionaluntruths
    I've hardly been outside my room in days,
    'cause I don't feel that I deserve the sunshine's rays.

Soubi hasn't moved in days. Kio thinks he can almost see the dust setting atop of his jeans and his hands, over his dirty hair. He sighs, loudly, and puts the groceries with extra strength, complaining about the price and about the people, then complaining about classes and he asks Soubi if he has decided on a midterm project.

He's not expecting an answer, but it's still annoying, sad and just damn infuriating to see Soubi like this. He's not getting drunk, true, but he's not doing anything either. He's only breathing because he can't turn that off, Kio thinks.

    The darkness helped until the whiskey wore away,
    And it was then I realize the conscience never fades.

He's lost track of how much whisky he's had . Dean doesn't try to drive, not out of self preservation because he isn't going to crash his car. Not when his car is the one thing he has left.

He hasn't washed Sam's blood from the back seat, though. He doesn't turn to look at it, because the picture of Sam is burnt inside his fucking eyelids, a hand trying to stop the fucking bleeding while Dean lied to him and told him he'd be alright.

When Dean opens the car to throw up, he's not sure it's just the alcohol.

    When you're young you have this image of your life:
    That you'll be scrupulous and one day even make a wife.

In those last few moments, Wesley decides they would have been happy. Really happy. He would have proposed to Fred, would have made her smile as much as he possibly could, enough that her eyes would shine just like this.

Her hand feels rough-soft against his face and he decides that she's crying because they've just been told that they're going to be parents. He wants a little girl, with her smile and her beauty and Fred says that she hopes that their little girl has his eyes.

Wesley decides that he's happy and that he believes in forever.

    And you make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,
    And if you happen to you wake completely lost.

Mamoru's stomach clenches painfully the first time he realizes that he has to order Weiss to kill someone. Not because the man doesn't deserve it. He wouldn't doubt to kill him, not even for a second after having read through his file.

But it's different when he's the one that is going to have to give the orders, the one that is going to be waiting to learn if something went wrong.

'I can't do it,' he realizes. Not this. Not like this.

Nagi, sitting across of him, raises an eyebrow.

Mamoru takes a deep breath and makes the call.

    And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,
    Our hands will not be taught to hold another's,
    When we're the special two.

Julia kept on facing him as he ranted. Once Adalbert had run out of breath, he paused and looked at her and the emptiness of her eyes and knelt in front of Julia.

He knew that Julia was strong, knew that more than anything she hated being treated like a porcelain doll... and yet, part of him was aching at the thought of Julia being in danger.

He knew that Julia wasn't a damsel in distress and he wasn't a knight in shining armor, after all. But there were few things that Adalbert wouldn't be for her.

“Promise me you'll be careful,” and it was strange asking that of Julia, when it was going to be him the one actually fighting. He still held her hands and kissed the back softly. Julia smiled at him, freeing her hands to touch his face, lingering as they traced his face. When she leaned forward, he kept his eyes open as she brushed her lips against his.

“Adalbert, I love you,” she said. Adalbert was about to call it a dark omen before she smiled, teasing, gentle. “But you nag as an old maid.”

His last memory of her is of her laugh.
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