kokounopride @ 2011-02-13T10: 15:00
Parents had to give you their love years ago and emerge hours asking you to do the same with them, fuck off.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Teacher Themed Wedding
{6927 / / Daemon x Giotto King of Fools
To begin, revenge.
To begin with, the swearing of eternal friendship.
The old warehouse was dark and dirty, the only glimmer of light presented through the old wooden boards nailed on the windows badly, as to seal the site. The smell of rotting carcasses, mixed with that of the blood spilled in the air, pointed his gaze on Tsunayoshi, staring at him through different eyes than ever, less clumsy, less insecure. It seemed almost a different person.
The office was lit, the sunlight filtered through the light curtains, the spring breeze carries with it a pleasant scent of cherry blossoms. He looked
Giotto, was painted a peaceful smile on his lips, even his eyes conveyed a quiet outside of the municipality. He thought that person.
The person who brought him to ruin.
The person that would lead to ruin.
Tsunayoshi Sawada staring at him with hatred, Mukuro knew why: he had dared to touch her friends have them and throw at him, as his pawns. He wanted revenge, wanted exterminate the Mafia, to destroy the Vongola, destroy Tsunayoshi Sawada.
Giotto and his smiles. Suspected of being in love with this man in any point of view, and probably was not a love like that you felt between men and women, its respect that a little later it would turn into fanaticism, had taken so much to love not only the ideals of the man, but anything that might be part of his being.
Rather than surrender to the Clam, took his own life, keeping a backup plan, and eventually would come back with a goal: the body of Tsunayoshi Sawada it was his.
He sold his freedom to the Mafia, remaining confined in the prison of the redeemer for years, feeding his hatred of the Mafia, to the Clam, towards him.
addition to Giotto and the rest of the group, which soon became a real family, she felt unbeatable, and culminate in a future that now seemed farther and farther away so quickly made him happy, a better future which often leads to losses apparently also needed to increase the prestige of the family, at least from his point of view. One thing was certain, would follow him forever.
Locked within the "cell" realized it could not do anything, just signed a pact with a young dying: in exchange for his body would have kept alive with his illusions, so he would have a means to move and come closer to Tsunayoshi Sawada.
The power and the glory and victories. Giotto did not seem to get carried away by all this, but anyway ... Not that he expected a shift from a modest person like him, we would also estimated. He was happy to be a Guardian of Giotto, made him feel important.
A ring, the ring of the Mist. This led to make it part of something he despised more than anything else, the Mafia. Worse
led to the protection of Tsunayoshi Sawada.
Gokudera Hayato immediately sensed his plans and tried to obstacles cast against petty Chrome, its human vessel, but at the same time he could see something positive - at least from his point of view, more could be close to him, most of them had the opportunity to destroy him, slowly.
His ideas often came in conflict with G. The Guardian of the Storm. According to him did not deserve the role of Guardian of the Mist, probably because he was close to Giotto in an almost compulsive, turning his ideals with his own.
What nonsense, Giotto was not the kind of person, was a bit 'naive dreamer ... but would never let astray by him.
"Mukuro says he does not belong to the family, but often helps us, I consider him one of our comrades."
"I am happy that Daemon is part of my family, without him everything we have achieved so far, would be a utopia. "
passed the beauty of ten years. Who would have thought? He was still at his side.
He spent a long time, but he was no longer at his side.
Tsunayoshi Sawada became a weakness, the person who hated but at the same time wanted to protect.
so I wanted to protect its proximity to hate someone that it was not of himself, aware that his behavior often touched on the ridiculous.
Giotto became his weakness, the person he loved but at the same time wanted to eliminate. Their ideals opposed to the passage of time, Giotto was not a cruel person like him, he cried for his victims, this made him a weak man. He allied himself with a
haired man with evil eyes and blacks, who soon drove Giotto and assumed the throne of bloody clam.
One night back at the hotel, ate more drunk than usual Tsuna's room, hugged her body thin and seemingly helpless, she heard him moan, whispering his name several times. The reason
place left to desire, desire neutralized hatred.
The same night of the day dictated by fate decided to leave an indelible mark on the body of Giotto, the violets, against his will, making him more harm as possible.
He had never been good at expressing his feelings, that was the last big mistake he could make against Giotto.
Love leaves the place of madness, insanity neutralized reason.
A smile, and then the sentence that displacement "I think I love you."
A melancholy smile, then the sentence that displacement "I think I love you, sorry if they are not enough for you."
The awareness that was not a mistake, that was basically the same as he felt, he had become urgent in his heart.
The awareness that this was a mistake, the guilt, anger at himself, grew so huge.
The last time he saw Tsuna was before the war against Byakuran. He had watched with a worried look, he wanted to accompany him, but had requested the presence of Tsuna and Gokudera Yamamoto.
"We will meet again soon."
Her smile, her slender shoulders, in order that the door was closed.
The last time I could see it was before the end. Her eyes were also determined after all the humiliations, brave and beautiful as the first time I had met him.
"You hinder."
His smile which caused a sharp pain in his chest, his hands clutching a pocket watch, a symbol of his oath.
When she saw him, he managed to say, "I love you."
When he saw he could not talk to him, he was no longer among the living.
He kept his promise.
He had kept his promise, his forgiveness, he did nothing now.
To begin, revenge.
To begin with, the swearing of eternal friendship.
The old warehouse was dark and dirty, the only glimmer of light presented through the old wooden boards nailed on the windows badly, as to seal the site. The smell of rotting carcasses, mixed with that of the blood spilled in the air, pointed his gaze on Tsunayoshi, staring at him through different eyes than ever, less clumsy, less insecure. It seemed almost a different person.
The office was lit, the sunlight filtered through the light curtains, the spring breeze carries with it a pleasant scent of cherry blossoms. He looked
Giotto, was painted a peaceful smile on his lips, even his eyes conveyed a quiet outside of the municipality. He thought that person.
The person who brought him to ruin.
The person that would lead to ruin.
Tsunayoshi Sawada staring at him with hatred, Mukuro knew why: he had dared to touch her friends have them and throw at him, as his pawns. He wanted revenge, wanted exterminate the Mafia, to destroy the Vongola, destroy Tsunayoshi Sawada.
Giotto and his smiles. Suspected of being in love with this man in any point of view, and probably was not a love like that you felt between men and women, its respect that a little later it would turn into fanaticism, had taken so much to love not only the ideals of the man, but anything that might be part of his being.
Rather than surrender to the Clam, took his own life, keeping a backup plan, and eventually would come back with a goal: the body of Tsunayoshi Sawada it was his.
He sold his freedom to the Mafia, remaining confined in the prison of the redeemer for years, feeding his hatred of the Mafia, to the Clam, towards him.
addition to Giotto and the rest of the group, which soon became a real family, she felt unbeatable, and culminate in a future that now seemed farther and farther away so quickly made him happy, a better future which often leads to losses apparently also needed to increase the prestige of the family, at least from his point of view. One thing was certain, would follow him forever.
Locked within the "cell" realized it could not do anything, just signed a pact with a young dying: in exchange for his body would have kept alive with his illusions, so he would have a means to move and come closer to Tsunayoshi Sawada.
The power and the glory and victories. Giotto did not seem to get carried away by all this, but anyway ... Not that he expected a shift from a modest person like him, we would also estimated. He was happy to be a Guardian of Giotto, made him feel important.
A ring, the ring of the Mist. This led to make it part of something he despised more than anything else, the Mafia. Worse
led to the protection of Tsunayoshi Sawada.
Gokudera Hayato immediately sensed his plans and tried to obstacles cast against petty Chrome, its human vessel, but at the same time he could see something positive - at least from his point of view, more could be close to him, most of them had the opportunity to destroy him, slowly.
His ideas often came in conflict with G. The Guardian of the Storm. According to him did not deserve the role of Guardian of the Mist, probably because he was close to Giotto in an almost compulsive, turning his ideals with his own.
What nonsense, Giotto was not the kind of person, was a bit 'naive dreamer ... but would never let astray by him.
"Mukuro says he does not belong to the family, but often helps us, I consider him one of our comrades."
"I am happy that Daemon is part of my family, without him everything we have achieved so far, would be a utopia. "
passed the beauty of ten years. Who would have thought? He was still at his side.
He spent a long time, but he was no longer at his side.
Tsunayoshi Sawada became a weakness, the person who hated but at the same time wanted to protect.
so I wanted to protect its proximity to hate someone that it was not of himself, aware that his behavior often touched on the ridiculous.
Giotto became his weakness, the person he loved but at the same time wanted to eliminate. Their ideals opposed to the passage of time, Giotto was not a cruel person like him, he cried for his victims, this made him a weak man. He allied himself with a
haired man with evil eyes and blacks, who soon drove Giotto and assumed the throne of bloody clam.
One night back at the hotel, ate more drunk than usual Tsuna's room, hugged her body thin and seemingly helpless, she heard him moan, whispering his name several times. The reason
place left to desire, desire neutralized hatred.
The same night of the day dictated by fate decided to leave an indelible mark on the body of Giotto, the violets, against his will, making him more harm as possible.
He had never been good at expressing his feelings, that was the last big mistake he could make against Giotto.
Love leaves the place of madness, insanity neutralized reason.
A smile, and then the sentence that displacement "I think I love you."
A melancholy smile, then the sentence that displacement "I think I love you, sorry if they are not enough for you."
The awareness that was not a mistake, that was basically the same as he felt, he had become urgent in his heart.
The awareness that this was a mistake, the guilt, anger at himself, grew so huge.
The last time he saw Tsuna was before the war against Byakuran. He had watched with a worried look, he wanted to accompany him, but had requested the presence of Tsuna and Gokudera Yamamoto.
"We will meet again soon."
Her smile, her slender shoulders, in order that the door was closed.
The last time I could see it was before the end. Her eyes were also determined after all the humiliations, brave and beautiful as the first time I had met him.
"You hinder."
His smile which caused a sharp pain in his chest, his hands clutching a pocket watch, a symbol of his oath.
When she saw him, he managed to say, "I love you."
When he saw he could not talk to him, he was no longer among the living.
He kept his promise.
He had kept his promise, his forgiveness, he did nothing now.
Chylmidia Of The Mouth
Fanfic} {6927} Fanfic "Tears on your cheek." Daemon
"Why are you crying?"
"I cry because I took away an important person."
Mukuro in those days did not understand the Tsunayoshi response, or perhaps simply did not want to understand it, considering that the Mafia hated, hated, and consequently hated Tsuna Vongola same.
The Guardian of the Mist, or at least, that was the name that is awarded every time you referred to him - only Tsunayoshi and other Guardian called him by name, among them a few did so with pleasure - he never truly understand himself, because in spite of the hatred continued to follow that kid so much changed with the passing years, that kid with the time he had become an adult, as well as himself.
Tsunayoshi possessed the innate ability to recognize the moods of Mukuro: he understood when he was angry when he was sarcastic when ... okay, his moods would stop at that point, he was always angry, or sarcasm used to spread the gift of all, and there could even pretty good.
That the quoted phrase Tsuna in a particular moment of his life as another in the afternoon due to an exchange of people killed was his mother, and that fact led to a strong shock in the boy, who from that day began search for those responsible for murder, disappeared into thin air.
Mukuro do not care that much, did not know the meaning of ties and therefore could not really understand what it meant losing a loved one. In fact, he did not know how he would react to this loss, now too accustomed to think of himself rather than others. More
progressed with time, the more he realized that really was not fighting only for himself but to protect something, or rather someone.
"Juudaime, there are these documents to be signed." He announced with enthusiasm incurable Gokudera, Tsuna laying on the desk of not less than one hundred sheets of paper, only to see Tsuna turned white, clasping her hands sore the pen had not yet strangely discharged, strange thought, considering it was the day that put scribbles on right and left like a madman.
"You can pause, Juudaime?" Was the question that raised the morale in Tsuna, allowing stretching back in his chair. Gokudera left the room, leaving him alone in the office.
sighed, turning his eyes toward the window, "Mukuro-kun, if you have something to say to me, might as well come here ... instead of spying."
The unmistakable Mukuro's laughter echoed in the words of Tsuna, the latter moved his eyes on the boy, leaning lazily on the window sill, her arms crossed at his chest.
"Pardon, I did not want to disturb the Vongola Tenth big." He said, and his voice was a note of irony quite clear, that obviously noticed Tsuna, but merely to raise his eyes to sky, turning to the other.
"Do not disturb me, you know. What is it? "
Respond immediately to that question could mean simply send air mask the pride and security that usually wore, and in the end had already become one with the mask, so that often struggled to get rid.
"To be honest I was worried about you." He was surprised to note what might sound strange that phrase uttered by him, Mukuro Rokudo which until then had never worried about someone, and yet at that moment I was doing , in a rather awkward to another.
Tsuna did not seem surprised by the emergence of the other and returned his look, standing up to approach the dark, approaching the wall.
Their speeches were never very long or deep, very often, just as it did at the time, grabbed Tsuna Mukuro's hand without looking at his face, and hugged. That gesture
Mukuro recognize him every time, associated with a silent plea for help, almost as if the words are not enough to convey what he felt.
It was moments like those that he wanted to do something that had never done with anyone, as hug and whisper "You'll be fine, I'm there with you.", But something always prevented him from doing so, perhaps because afraid of engaging with each other, whereas for his personal taste had gone too far already.
"You can cry if you want, eh. "It came suddenly, surprising that this time in response Tsuna shook his hand up.
was seeing the back of the brown tremble, his eyes took on a pained and instinctively stood up, turning toward the other as the body itself, and hold his arms.
initially appears to contain, heard him cry for several minutes, then once you get used to his shoulder, which hid her face, literally burst into tears, holding on with clenched fists on his chest.
was in moments like these that Tsuna sensed what was not good at hiding his moods Mukuro. He hated this weakness, because at least he wanted to look like the person who was always smiling, crying brats were from women and spineless, so once said ... Mukuro and Tsuna some words remained impressed, although it was not the type that is swayed by the speech of others, but the Guardian of the Mist could confuse it perfectly.
"Stop keeping everything for you, otherwise one day explodes ... Although, in my opinion, to explode while continuing to eat this way. "Mukuro joked, leaning slightly forward on the restaurant table, staring pleased Tsuna that he had ever eaten in weeks.
the cast stopped shooting for that statement, realizing that it was a joke only because of the relaxed smile of the dark.
"You're not hungry?"
Since they went out for lunch, Mukuro had not brought anything to eat. The Guardian of the Mist shook head, resting one elbow on the table and holding his face on one hand, while continuing to observe the other guy eat.
"I wish to explain to me why you always keep everything inside."
"Do not ask me questions that could easily backfire on you." He asserted Tsunayoshi, his lips pursed in a smile, while on the face of Mukuro was painted surprise expression, which replaced immediately with a mischievous smile.
"Tsunayoshi-kun, do not test your luck with me, you know that I do not hide anything and that I revealed my plans from the beginning."
That sentence probably would have no effect if only he was having lunch with a person who was supposed to hate, he wanted to possess the body and possibly eliminate.
"I'm not talking about this, but your feelings. We are both very good at hiding them, eh? "Whispered the young man, putting the sticks and folding his arms on the table, hiding his smile incredibly honest, a bit 'sad maybe.
"Suddenly I want to drink." The statement of Mukuro Tsuna that he took on a stern frown, "On an empty stomach, no! "
Needless to say, Mukuro ignored the warning of the Boss and dragged him with it, forgetting completely than it was resistant to alcohol, resulting in doverselo lead up to the house, and weight more combative than usual.
"Muuukuuuuro! Put me down, I can walk, "began screaming in the street, pulling the long tail of the dark hair, causing no little pain. Fortunately the path was very long and soon reached the house, where he managed to open the doors of the house wearing dangling Tsuna, she laughed and said nonsense. He laughed in a way that even during the most cheerful of his life he had ever done.
"Mukuro just illusions, I'm just a man like you, do not split," said a little before falling weight on the bed, probably because of a dizzy; Mukuro put her hand on his forehead wondering Devil wanted to show the other with certain behaviors.
"You are a child a few times."
"I'm not a child! And you're a nuisance! "
and continued for half an hour, between humorous insult and laughter. It never happened that he could behave so naturally to him, perhaps because at that moment he was drunk and passed the drunk would not have remembered anything.
He knew that actually did all this to forget the bad things that had happened, he could not speak freely, or worse still hiding.
Sitting on the right side of the bed, stared for a long time the other guy who seemed to have calmed down, while he was sleeping with one arm over his face, his mouth half open and his tie loosened just round the neck, cheeks a bit 'of redness enlivened the face.
Needless to say, only to watch a spontaneous smile appeared on his face, could not explain why, but just felt a sense of bliss to watch.
lips stared for several minutes, then decided to bend enough to touch them with their own. She felt him move
, a clear sign that he was still awake, surprised to hear in return contact, bringing an arm around his neck.
"I'm asleep."
"I thought you liked kissing me to sleep." Promptly replied Tsuna, Mukuro nibbling her lower lip.
"I want to help you in your revenge." Suddenly said the Guardian of the Mist, concentrated in the other's gaze, as if to scrutinize every corner of his soul. Tsuna took a bit 'to understand what it was about Mukuro, then remembered that day when he was surprised to weep with frustration at the death of his mother ... He spoke of revenge, he would find those who had dropped and would the same with him.
He can put any poison in those words, probably resulting in more evil and menacing than usual; Mukuro had not distracted for even a second look Tsuna's face, the latter did not speak, almost violently pulling his tie for the largest, so you can get closer.
He had to come off suddenly from brown to catch my breath, just in time to meet the other hazel eyes filled with a languor he had never seen in his life, returned immediately to the small and warm inviting mouth. She heard him mutter
his name, choked when deepened the kiss, entwining his tongue with his.
was when he started to unbutton his shirt the other that Tsunayoshi rebelled, turning to the side and covering his chest suddenly naked, prompting a laugh veiled in dark, kissed him on the cheek.
"What is it?"
Tsuna just narrowed his eyes, intoxicated with the laughter of the other.
"My body is not beautiful like yours."
Tsuna was often too honest, or at least could say things with such ease by surprise, always.
"You say? But I think you're beautiful. "Insisted he had to say in the open brown shirt, in vain.
"I do not want ..." He protested Tsuna, Mukuro that bringing all'arresa sighed.
"I guess it's too soon."
Although the desire was strong, he is content to hold his arms, lying repeatedly to set the time on the call, scored three in the morning when he felt Tsunayoshi move.
the cast, who seemed to have recovered from the hangover, he repeatedly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, still sleepy.
"You can if you want to stay still, it is night. "
" I can not sleep ... "Tsuna muttered, resting his head on the chest of the best dark to listen to his heartbeat.
In fact even if he had striven with all his heart, there would never have succeeded, had completely lost to other thoughts that Mukuro had said before, his behavior.
He spent that night with the knowledge that sooner or later would have to separate. The moonlight illuminated the ceiling, the only sound in contrast with the heartbeat of Mukuro was that the pendulum clock.
That night seemed to be eternal.
Eternal, sprinkled with a sweet smell, the smell that seemed to almost be sad to say goodbye.
The awakening from a dream that would never have expected to achieve, it was lonely, Mukuro was not close to him, you probably already left for work.
Looking out the window became an automatic gesture. Mukuro was not the kind of person who liked to be together with others, nor to him, but the way he behaved last night, Tsuna had sensed something ... or maybe he was just deluded, as often happened.
The door snapped open woke him from his thoughts. A Gokudera more agitated than usual immediately sought the glance of his boss, out of breath that required him to stay bent, to resume air.
Tsuna, seeing him so upset, stood up, approaching the Guardian of the Storm.
"The murderess of your mother, Juudaime! It 'been captured, he succeeded Mukuro! "Those words spoken in haste, almost shouted, triggered a chain reaction of emotions in reckless Tsuna. It was when
Do not hold your legs warned that quickly in the arms of Gokudera helped him to support himself, a gesture quickly loosened his tie at that moment seemed so narrow and suffocating with an advanced shooting toward the exit.
"Mukuro. Where Mukuro? "Said, meeting the corridor and Ryohei Yamamoto arguing with a worried look. The vision of Tsuna, the first looked down, the second put his hand around his neck, massaging the plan.
"Sawada ... Mukuro is fine, but perhaps it is better if you wait a while 'before it. "Ryohei replied with a tone lower than usual that it was not him.
Yamamoto put his hand on the shoulder of Tsuna, pointing to a marked just smiled.
"Do not worry, by the way is now in his room."
Those words were enough to make Tsuna escape from the gaze of the two, starting to run headlong into the room of the Guardian of the Mist. Do not knock, opening the door all at once, finding the other standing, his eyes turned away to the mirror and clothes completely covered in blood.
Now Tsuna thought Ryohei, Gokudera and Yamamoto had lied, but soon realized that this was not his blood.
The smell was strong enough to provoke a feeling of nausea, which tried to drive away. He met then Mukuro's eyes in the mirror, noticing almost absent)
"Mukuro ..." he called softly, drawing his attention. The dark turned, and seemed to wear a mask as his eyes were cold.
"You ... Killed? "
" Yeah. "
Tsuna hesitated. Actually he did not know how to react: whether to be angry, or relieved to see another safe and sound ...
Mukuro seemed to notice it, coldly bowed in front of his boss, extending his arm to make she could reach her hand, holding up a little before bringing it close to his lips, to touch the back.
"will never allow you can be dirty, not because of people like cowards."
In contrast to the words of Mukuro, Tsuna's hands are stained with blood. Ignored him and leaning toward the dark, hugged him, holding back tears at the corners of the eyes.
"You're a stupid, stupid, stupid! Try to think more about yourself, instead of worrying about the other, "snapped the young Boss, smearing blood on your clothing when you increase the close of that embrace, Mukuro laughed, shaking his head the words of Tsuna.
"Tsunayoshi Sawada, want to race who can be the most stupid among us?" He joked, raised by the fact that he was not angry, but rather worried about him. In a way, not expecting it, really.
would have stayed by his side forever, a doll, a puppet, a human being, it would not be imported as the Treaty would, he cared only to play the role you desire, in silence, only to protect it.
"Why are you crying?"
"I cry because I took away an important person."
Mukuro in those days did not understand the Tsunayoshi response, or perhaps simply did not want to understand it, considering that the Mafia hated, hated, and consequently hated Tsuna Vongola same.
The Guardian of the Mist, or at least, that was the name that is awarded every time you referred to him - only Tsunayoshi and other Guardian called him by name, among them a few did so with pleasure - he never truly understand himself, because in spite of the hatred continued to follow that kid so much changed with the passing years, that kid with the time he had become an adult, as well as himself.
Tsunayoshi possessed the innate ability to recognize the moods of Mukuro: he understood when he was angry when he was sarcastic when ... okay, his moods would stop at that point, he was always angry, or sarcasm used to spread the gift of all, and there could even pretty good.
That the quoted phrase Tsuna in a particular moment of his life as another in the afternoon due to an exchange of people killed was his mother, and that fact led to a strong shock in the boy, who from that day began search for those responsible for murder, disappeared into thin air.
Mukuro do not care that much, did not know the meaning of ties and therefore could not really understand what it meant losing a loved one. In fact, he did not know how he would react to this loss, now too accustomed to think of himself rather than others. More
progressed with time, the more he realized that really was not fighting only for himself but to protect something, or rather someone.
"Juudaime, there are these documents to be signed." He announced with enthusiasm incurable Gokudera, Tsuna laying on the desk of not less than one hundred sheets of paper, only to see Tsuna turned white, clasping her hands sore the pen had not yet strangely discharged, strange thought, considering it was the day that put scribbles on right and left like a madman.
"You can pause, Juudaime?" Was the question that raised the morale in Tsuna, allowing stretching back in his chair. Gokudera left the room, leaving him alone in the office.
sighed, turning his eyes toward the window, "Mukuro-kun, if you have something to say to me, might as well come here ... instead of spying."
The unmistakable Mukuro's laughter echoed in the words of Tsuna, the latter moved his eyes on the boy, leaning lazily on the window sill, her arms crossed at his chest.
"Pardon, I did not want to disturb the Vongola Tenth big." He said, and his voice was a note of irony quite clear, that obviously noticed Tsuna, but merely to raise his eyes to sky, turning to the other.
"Do not disturb me, you know. What is it? "
Respond immediately to that question could mean simply send air mask the pride and security that usually wore, and in the end had already become one with the mask, so that often struggled to get rid.
"To be honest I was worried about you." He was surprised to note what might sound strange that phrase uttered by him, Mukuro Rokudo which until then had never worried about someone, and yet at that moment I was doing , in a rather awkward to another.
Tsuna did not seem surprised by the emergence of the other and returned his look, standing up to approach the dark, approaching the wall.
Their speeches were never very long or deep, very often, just as it did at the time, grabbed Tsuna Mukuro's hand without looking at his face, and hugged. That gesture
Mukuro recognize him every time, associated with a silent plea for help, almost as if the words are not enough to convey what he felt.
It was moments like those that he wanted to do something that had never done with anyone, as hug and whisper "You'll be fine, I'm there with you.", But something always prevented him from doing so, perhaps because afraid of engaging with each other, whereas for his personal taste had gone too far already.
"You can cry if you want, eh. "It came suddenly, surprising that this time in response Tsuna shook his hand up.
was seeing the back of the brown tremble, his eyes took on a pained and instinctively stood up, turning toward the other as the body itself, and hold his arms.
initially appears to contain, heard him cry for several minutes, then once you get used to his shoulder, which hid her face, literally burst into tears, holding on with clenched fists on his chest.
was in moments like these that Tsuna sensed what was not good at hiding his moods Mukuro. He hated this weakness, because at least he wanted to look like the person who was always smiling, crying brats were from women and spineless, so once said ... Mukuro and Tsuna some words remained impressed, although it was not the type that is swayed by the speech of others, but the Guardian of the Mist could confuse it perfectly.
"Stop keeping everything for you, otherwise one day explodes ... Although, in my opinion, to explode while continuing to eat this way. "Mukuro joked, leaning slightly forward on the restaurant table, staring pleased Tsuna that he had ever eaten in weeks.
the cast stopped shooting for that statement, realizing that it was a joke only because of the relaxed smile of the dark.
"You're not hungry?"
Since they went out for lunch, Mukuro had not brought anything to eat. The Guardian of the Mist shook head, resting one elbow on the table and holding his face on one hand, while continuing to observe the other guy eat.
"I wish to explain to me why you always keep everything inside."
"Do not ask me questions that could easily backfire on you." He asserted Tsunayoshi, his lips pursed in a smile, while on the face of Mukuro was painted surprise expression, which replaced immediately with a mischievous smile.
"Tsunayoshi-kun, do not test your luck with me, you know that I do not hide anything and that I revealed my plans from the beginning."
That sentence probably would have no effect if only he was having lunch with a person who was supposed to hate, he wanted to possess the body and possibly eliminate.
"I'm not talking about this, but your feelings. We are both very good at hiding them, eh? "Whispered the young man, putting the sticks and folding his arms on the table, hiding his smile incredibly honest, a bit 'sad maybe.
"Suddenly I want to drink." The statement of Mukuro Tsuna that he took on a stern frown, "On an empty stomach, no! "
Needless to say, Mukuro ignored the warning of the Boss and dragged him with it, forgetting completely than it was resistant to alcohol, resulting in doverselo lead up to the house, and weight more combative than usual.
"Muuukuuuuro! Put me down, I can walk, "began screaming in the street, pulling the long tail of the dark hair, causing no little pain. Fortunately the path was very long and soon reached the house, where he managed to open the doors of the house wearing dangling Tsuna, she laughed and said nonsense. He laughed in a way that even during the most cheerful of his life he had ever done.
"Mukuro just illusions, I'm just a man like you, do not split," said a little before falling weight on the bed, probably because of a dizzy; Mukuro put her hand on his forehead wondering Devil wanted to show the other with certain behaviors.
"You are a child a few times."
"I'm not a child! And you're a nuisance! "
and continued for half an hour, between humorous insult and laughter. It never happened that he could behave so naturally to him, perhaps because at that moment he was drunk and passed the drunk would not have remembered anything.
He knew that actually did all this to forget the bad things that had happened, he could not speak freely, or worse still hiding.
Sitting on the right side of the bed, stared for a long time the other guy who seemed to have calmed down, while he was sleeping with one arm over his face, his mouth half open and his tie loosened just round the neck, cheeks a bit 'of redness enlivened the face.
Needless to say, only to watch a spontaneous smile appeared on his face, could not explain why, but just felt a sense of bliss to watch.
lips stared for several minutes, then decided to bend enough to touch them with their own. She felt him move
, a clear sign that he was still awake, surprised to hear in return contact, bringing an arm around his neck.
"I'm asleep."
"I thought you liked kissing me to sleep." Promptly replied Tsuna, Mukuro nibbling her lower lip.
"I want to help you in your revenge." Suddenly said the Guardian of the Mist, concentrated in the other's gaze, as if to scrutinize every corner of his soul. Tsuna took a bit 'to understand what it was about Mukuro, then remembered that day when he was surprised to weep with frustration at the death of his mother ... He spoke of revenge, he would find those who had dropped and would the same with him.
He can put any poison in those words, probably resulting in more evil and menacing than usual; Mukuro had not distracted for even a second look Tsuna's face, the latter did not speak, almost violently pulling his tie for the largest, so you can get closer.
He had to come off suddenly from brown to catch my breath, just in time to meet the other hazel eyes filled with a languor he had never seen in his life, returned immediately to the small and warm inviting mouth. She heard him mutter
his name, choked when deepened the kiss, entwining his tongue with his.
was when he started to unbutton his shirt the other that Tsunayoshi rebelled, turning to the side and covering his chest suddenly naked, prompting a laugh veiled in dark, kissed him on the cheek.
"What is it?"
Tsuna just narrowed his eyes, intoxicated with the laughter of the other.
"My body is not beautiful like yours."
Tsuna was often too honest, or at least could say things with such ease by surprise, always.
"You say? But I think you're beautiful. "Insisted he had to say in the open brown shirt, in vain.
"I do not want ..." He protested Tsuna, Mukuro that bringing all'arresa sighed.
"I guess it's too soon."
Although the desire was strong, he is content to hold his arms, lying repeatedly to set the time on the call, scored three in the morning when he felt Tsunayoshi move.
the cast, who seemed to have recovered from the hangover, he repeatedly rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, still sleepy.
"You can if you want to stay still, it is night. "
" I can not sleep ... "Tsuna muttered, resting his head on the chest of the best dark to listen to his heartbeat.
In fact even if he had striven with all his heart, there would never have succeeded, had completely lost to other thoughts that Mukuro had said before, his behavior.
He spent that night with the knowledge that sooner or later would have to separate. The moonlight illuminated the ceiling, the only sound in contrast with the heartbeat of Mukuro was that the pendulum clock.
That night seemed to be eternal.
Eternal, sprinkled with a sweet smell, the smell that seemed to almost be sad to say goodbye.
The awakening from a dream that would never have expected to achieve, it was lonely, Mukuro was not close to him, you probably already left for work.
Looking out the window became an automatic gesture. Mukuro was not the kind of person who liked to be together with others, nor to him, but the way he behaved last night, Tsuna had sensed something ... or maybe he was just deluded, as often happened.
The door snapped open woke him from his thoughts. A Gokudera more agitated than usual immediately sought the glance of his boss, out of breath that required him to stay bent, to resume air.
Tsuna, seeing him so upset, stood up, approaching the Guardian of the Storm.
"The murderess of your mother, Juudaime! It 'been captured, he succeeded Mukuro! "Those words spoken in haste, almost shouted, triggered a chain reaction of emotions in reckless Tsuna. It was when
Do not hold your legs warned that quickly in the arms of Gokudera helped him to support himself, a gesture quickly loosened his tie at that moment seemed so narrow and suffocating with an advanced shooting toward the exit.
"Mukuro. Where Mukuro? "Said, meeting the corridor and Ryohei Yamamoto arguing with a worried look. The vision of Tsuna, the first looked down, the second put his hand around his neck, massaging the plan.
"Sawada ... Mukuro is fine, but perhaps it is better if you wait a while 'before it. "Ryohei replied with a tone lower than usual that it was not him.
Yamamoto put his hand on the shoulder of Tsuna, pointing to a marked just smiled.
"Do not worry, by the way is now in his room."
Those words were enough to make Tsuna escape from the gaze of the two, starting to run headlong into the room of the Guardian of the Mist. Do not knock, opening the door all at once, finding the other standing, his eyes turned away to the mirror and clothes completely covered in blood.
Now Tsuna thought Ryohei, Gokudera and Yamamoto had lied, but soon realized that this was not his blood.
The smell was strong enough to provoke a feeling of nausea, which tried to drive away. He met then Mukuro's eyes in the mirror, noticing almost absent)
"Mukuro ..." he called softly, drawing his attention. The dark turned, and seemed to wear a mask as his eyes were cold.
"You ... Killed? "
" Yeah. "
Tsuna hesitated. Actually he did not know how to react: whether to be angry, or relieved to see another safe and sound ...
Mukuro seemed to notice it, coldly bowed in front of his boss, extending his arm to make she could reach her hand, holding up a little before bringing it close to his lips, to touch the back.
"will never allow you can be dirty, not because of people like cowards."
In contrast to the words of Mukuro, Tsuna's hands are stained with blood. Ignored him and leaning toward the dark, hugged him, holding back tears at the corners of the eyes.
"You're a stupid, stupid, stupid! Try to think more about yourself, instead of worrying about the other, "snapped the young Boss, smearing blood on your clothing when you increase the close of that embrace, Mukuro laughed, shaking his head the words of Tsuna.
"Tsunayoshi Sawada, want to race who can be the most stupid among us?" He joked, raised by the fact that he was not angry, but rather worried about him. In a way, not expecting it, really.
would have stayed by his side forever, a doll, a puppet, a human being, it would not be imported as the Treaty would, he cared only to play the role you desire, in silence, only to protect it.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Ointment For Colonoscopy
{x} Giotto Field of Dreams.
Title: Field of Dreams.
Pairing: Daemon Spade x Giotto.
Rating: NC-17
Betareader: Prof.
Notes & Warnings: Angst , Melancholy, Death Character, Yaoi, Affair of the bast-Daemon!, Lemon. (Oh, well ... hints Lemon °_°')
Whatever you do will be insignificant but it is very important that you do, because nobody else will do it. It's like when someone comes into your life and a part of you says "you are absolutely ready" while the other half says "flaw yours forever"
Giotto long observed the scene out the window with a calm expression, his eyes clear seemed to reflect more than he could reverberate the same sky that is now staring at a half hour, if not more.
a yawn, which choked with one hand, then sank his face in his folded arms on the desk.
was an unusually quiet morning: no noise, no one came to disturb him, not that I wanted but it was so weird.
Unexpectedly there was a knock at the door of his office and the young boss of the Vongola jumped by granting permission to enter, anyone.
When the door opened, revealing nothing of those who guessed Giotto it could be, not all of its revenue Guards were preparing to do so "spectacular" and Daemon Spade was the only one who like a ghost could infiltrate anywhere, let alone the office of Giotto.
Although he could not see him, his invisible presence was barely noticeable, probably thanks to the powers of the Boss than any other human sense.
"Daemon, is that every time you make an entrance ... normal?" Ruled, looking around for any clue that might indicate where to find each other, Daemon was a surprise but of course first, appearing unexpectedly at his back, sweeping away as he did every time.
Daemon chuckled, bringing a hand to the face of the other, grabbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"This is the most you can expect from an eccentric like me." He said to do with almost theatrical, moving away skeptical glance of the Boss and hold back a laugh with amusement.
"I would say that is no small thing, Daemon Sword." Giotto smiled, turning toward him, as it rests against the back of the leather chair.
A quick visual inspection to Giotto in the intuisse that something was wrong;
reached for that of the portrait that had instinctively and squeezed.
Daemon looked at him surprise, getting lost in your eyes for a few minutes of deep melancholy and Giotto.
in a second glance through that identified a feeling of reassurance, love and protective instincts ....
now Giotto knew Daemon, or at least had come to know well what its side that tends to lead to worry about everyone, as if he never wanted to be fail in its duty, offering his support to anyone. He also knew well that all this but did not do it for others, but to forgive himself, as if any moment could turn your back to his companions, to his boss ... all the people who had been around, an attempt at redemption.
"You promised you'd bring me to the sea."
Daemon recovered from that look, just in time to be warmed by the smiles of children Giotto, an expression full of trust and other feelings that had not yet learned to decipher well.
"We can go even now, if you want." Moor had appeared on the face of a mischievous smile, while doing almost princely held out his hand to Giotto, and the boss caught her without hesitation, that he was leaving the other to guide him to his bedroom. ***
He arched his back when he felt the intrusion by Daemon, clutching her arms around his back, digging her nails in order to claim the pain he felt. The Guardian of the Mist in response to a half-closed eyes, groaned against the neck of the other soft against the skin marked by his own mouth.
Each thrust became drunk the voice of the dark, his shortness of breath, which is rubbed his pelvis against him in response to its movements. Climb along the exposed neck of Giotto, in search of his lips curled slightly into a smile.
"That the sea was one damn excuse, right?" He murmured against her lips, between one breath and another, trying not to notice the sand that clung so to say the least annoying on his sweaty body .
"To be only an illusion is pretty realistic, you have surpassed yourself this time." He chuckled, leaning forward just a foot in contact with the hot water the point in the sea shore, where they had left after a long walk, ending then make love.
"There's nothing for me to be impossible." He said pretending air higher, approaching his jacket on the other, to cover it.
Giotto gladly accepted the offer, leaving the other slide the jacket on his shoulders, then raising his eyes to his face.
"Why do all this for me?" He asked, so suddenly as to leave nothing but the wrong-footed in front of that took on a question of who was easily taken by surprise.
"You're my boss, that's why." Sounds more like a way to close the speech, rather than an honest answer. Giotto was about to reply, but the Daemon team with an eloquent look, laying a hand on your face, avoiding any possibility of supporting eye contact.
Giotto tried to reply, but after a slight movement of his lips he was unable to talk because the more he put his mouth to his.
"Sleep, Boss." A subtle whisper that just broke the tension created. Giotto long struggled with his own eyes that threatened to shut down at any moment, but eventually the "sleep" prevailed and gave himself up to that feeling of cold and dark.
That feeling never left him cold until a familiar voice called, the call was to emphasize the continuous knocking at the door, sank more face in the pillow, and to cease when, upon contact with the surface the cool wet feeling of the pillow covered her face. Only then
noticed that the pillow was wet and his eyes still half closed, were wet.
tried to Groping beside him a minimum of physical contact, but the only thing I found was a ring of mist Daemon.
At that time, his first thought was that Daemon had forgotten to get back the ring, but then why? He did not withdraw it if ever.
Without even thinking about it further, rose, slipping quickly crumpled trousers and shirt, without even looking after the order of buttons. Once you wear the shoes catapulted to the door, meeting the face of G. The expression Guardian of the Storm, who became concerned when crossed eyes terrified of Giotto.
"Daemon, Daemon where?!" His voice trembled as her body when G. put both hands on his slender shoulders. The Guardian slightly deviated gaze, unable to look directly into the eyes of his boss, his best friend.
That simple gesture amplifies the terror that gripped firmly in Giotto the ring of the Mist in her hand in hand.
'G. What happened? "
Why not talk? Why not look at him? The Guardian of the Storm was silent for another second, the Boss trembled before him, and too many thoughts crowded into her mind still clouded by the illusion of Daemon, not to mention the pain she felt from her back down.
"He has deserted, betrayed us."
Those words brought a feeling of nausea, followed by loss, anger, sadness, pain. A deadly mixture that fell on him suddenly, like a wave crashing on a rock, then slips away, returning to be scattered in the immensity of the sea.
Daemon was just like a wave, it was given off on him, making him feel fragile but at the same time giving them that moment of fleeting happiness. Yet, despite the words of G. could not believe it was really something, would not believe it.
*** "I do not think you are suitable to be Boss of the Vongola."
Giotto did not change expression, remains a serious and inflexible in the face of Daemon, who sat on the floor, emptied of its power , of his powers, but still full of pride.
The Boss felt the gaze of his captors placed upon his shoulders, G. at his right hand trembling with anger that threatened at any moment to attack the traitor.
Only then noticed a minimum of hesitation in the eyes of Daemon, insecurity that for a moment had made him believe that the end was the Daemon had always known.
"Leave me alone with him." At the request G. sprang forward, displeased "First, do not say nonsense ..." Giotto turned to the Guardian of Storm, which diverted the eye with a line of anger when exact location of his crossed eyes authoritarian.
Without another word all the Guardians with the exception of Giotto and Daemon left the room, fell into total silence.
"I thought our ideas were the same." Giotto broke the silence has arisen, when in fact he had not stopped for even a second eye contact with each other.
Daemon laughed, for the claim that the seriousness with which the other had spoken, was thinking how naive and moralistic.
"naive, dreamy and extremely optimistic. Now I remember why I decided to follow you. "Was his reply, accompanied by a smile. Giotto did not change expression, even for a moment.
Daemon The truth was that the sea was not enough, he aspired to the ocean.
"... So this is goodbye?" Asked Giotto, without another word. Not a reason, not an attempt to debate. That thrilled her reaction left him slightly, though he knew his cool he could keep Giotto in certain situations.
"Yeah. I do not want to have anything to do with you. "
Yet it was not easy, because the fingerprints that are left will not fade into the lives that are never touched, and so would have been between them, the gestures, words had exchanged would never disappear so easily.
The truth, the raw Daemon would never have revealed that out of pride is that he was not ready to quit the sea, because he had to throw in the ocean ... deep fear of drowning.
Another truth, perhaps what was even worse was that basically he was a hopeless liar, because the words that would have meant at that time was unable to say "I love you", "I'll miss you."
Giotto but had always been more courageous than him, before a bye whispered "I forgive you '
" Make it yours forever. "
stared angrily the tombstone of the first. He was dead, that man of strong ideals, just as naive and too fragile to fight in a world of his dreams, he did nothing.
What sense had up to that point, when at last the only thing he achieved was the glory, when he had never really want?
This had very often accompanied in its illusions, because in that world, created especially for him ... he would never suffer, but ultimately he was responsible for his suffering.
There was one thing he knew from the start: their "love" was supported by melancholy.
Title: Field of Dreams.
Pairing: Daemon Spade x Giotto.
Rating: NC-17
Betareader: Prof.
Notes & Warnings: Angst , Melancholy, Death Character, Yaoi, Affair of the bast-Daemon!, Lemon. (Oh, well ... hints Lemon °_°')
Whatever you do will be insignificant but it is very important that you do, because nobody else will do it. It's like when someone comes into your life and a part of you says "you are absolutely ready" while the other half says "flaw yours forever"
Giotto long observed the scene out the window with a calm expression, his eyes clear seemed to reflect more than he could reverberate the same sky that is now staring at a half hour, if not more.
a yawn, which choked with one hand, then sank his face in his folded arms on the desk.
was an unusually quiet morning: no noise, no one came to disturb him, not that I wanted but it was so weird.
Unexpectedly there was a knock at the door of his office and the young boss of the Vongola jumped by granting permission to enter, anyone.
When the door opened, revealing nothing of those who guessed Giotto it could be, not all of its revenue Guards were preparing to do so "spectacular" and Daemon Spade was the only one who like a ghost could infiltrate anywhere, let alone the office of Giotto.
Although he could not see him, his invisible presence was barely noticeable, probably thanks to the powers of the Boss than any other human sense.
"Daemon, is that every time you make an entrance ... normal?" Ruled, looking around for any clue that might indicate where to find each other, Daemon was a surprise but of course first, appearing unexpectedly at his back, sweeping away as he did every time.
Daemon chuckled, bringing a hand to the face of the other, grabbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"This is the most you can expect from an eccentric like me." He said to do with almost theatrical, moving away skeptical glance of the Boss and hold back a laugh with amusement.
"I would say that is no small thing, Daemon Sword." Giotto smiled, turning toward him, as it rests against the back of the leather chair.
A quick visual inspection to Giotto in the intuisse that something was wrong;
reached for that of the portrait that had instinctively and squeezed.
Daemon looked at him surprise, getting lost in your eyes for a few minutes of deep melancholy and Giotto.
in a second glance through that identified a feeling of reassurance, love and protective instincts ....
now Giotto knew Daemon, or at least had come to know well what its side that tends to lead to worry about everyone, as if he never wanted to be fail in its duty, offering his support to anyone. He also knew well that all this but did not do it for others, but to forgive himself, as if any moment could turn your back to his companions, to his boss ... all the people who had been around, an attempt at redemption.
"You promised you'd bring me to the sea."
Daemon recovered from that look, just in time to be warmed by the smiles of children Giotto, an expression full of trust and other feelings that had not yet learned to decipher well.
"We can go even now, if you want." Moor had appeared on the face of a mischievous smile, while doing almost princely held out his hand to Giotto, and the boss caught her without hesitation, that he was leaving the other to guide him to his bedroom. ***
He arched his back when he felt the intrusion by Daemon, clutching her arms around his back, digging her nails in order to claim the pain he felt. The Guardian of the Mist in response to a half-closed eyes, groaned against the neck of the other soft against the skin marked by his own mouth.
Each thrust became drunk the voice of the dark, his shortness of breath, which is rubbed his pelvis against him in response to its movements. Climb along the exposed neck of Giotto, in search of his lips curled slightly into a smile.
"That the sea was one damn excuse, right?" He murmured against her lips, between one breath and another, trying not to notice the sand that clung so to say the least annoying on his sweaty body .
"To be only an illusion is pretty realistic, you have surpassed yourself this time." He chuckled, leaning forward just a foot in contact with the hot water the point in the sea shore, where they had left after a long walk, ending then make love.
"There's nothing for me to be impossible." He said pretending air higher, approaching his jacket on the other, to cover it.
Giotto gladly accepted the offer, leaving the other slide the jacket on his shoulders, then raising his eyes to his face.
"Why do all this for me?" He asked, so suddenly as to leave nothing but the wrong-footed in front of that took on a question of who was easily taken by surprise.
"You're my boss, that's why." Sounds more like a way to close the speech, rather than an honest answer. Giotto was about to reply, but the Daemon team with an eloquent look, laying a hand on your face, avoiding any possibility of supporting eye contact.
Giotto tried to reply, but after a slight movement of his lips he was unable to talk because the more he put his mouth to his.
"Sleep, Boss." A subtle whisper that just broke the tension created. Giotto long struggled with his own eyes that threatened to shut down at any moment, but eventually the "sleep" prevailed and gave himself up to that feeling of cold and dark.
***
That feeling never left him cold until a familiar voice called, the call was to emphasize the continuous knocking at the door, sank more face in the pillow, and to cease when, upon contact with the surface the cool wet feeling of the pillow covered her face. Only then
noticed that the pillow was wet and his eyes still half closed, were wet.
tried to Groping beside him a minimum of physical contact, but the only thing I found was a ring of mist Daemon.
At that time, his first thought was that Daemon had forgotten to get back the ring, but then why? He did not withdraw it if ever.
Without even thinking about it further, rose, slipping quickly crumpled trousers and shirt, without even looking after the order of buttons. Once you wear the shoes catapulted to the door, meeting the face of G. The expression Guardian of the Storm, who became concerned when crossed eyes terrified of Giotto.
"Daemon, Daemon where?!" His voice trembled as her body when G. put both hands on his slender shoulders. The Guardian slightly deviated gaze, unable to look directly into the eyes of his boss, his best friend.
That simple gesture amplifies the terror that gripped firmly in Giotto the ring of the Mist in her hand in hand.
'G. What happened? "
Why not talk? Why not look at him? The Guardian of the Storm was silent for another second, the Boss trembled before him, and too many thoughts crowded into her mind still clouded by the illusion of Daemon, not to mention the pain she felt from her back down.
"He has deserted, betrayed us."
Those words brought a feeling of nausea, followed by loss, anger, sadness, pain. A deadly mixture that fell on him suddenly, like a wave crashing on a rock, then slips away, returning to be scattered in the immensity of the sea.
Daemon was just like a wave, it was given off on him, making him feel fragile but at the same time giving them that moment of fleeting happiness. Yet, despite the words of G. could not believe it was really something, would not believe it.
*** "I do not think you are suitable to be Boss of the Vongola."
Giotto did not change expression, remains a serious and inflexible in the face of Daemon, who sat on the floor, emptied of its power , of his powers, but still full of pride.
The Boss felt the gaze of his captors placed upon his shoulders, G. at his right hand trembling with anger that threatened at any moment to attack the traitor.
Only then noticed a minimum of hesitation in the eyes of Daemon, insecurity that for a moment had made him believe that the end was the Daemon had always known.
"Leave me alone with him." At the request G. sprang forward, displeased "First, do not say nonsense ..." Giotto turned to the Guardian of Storm, which diverted the eye with a line of anger when exact location of his crossed eyes authoritarian.
Without another word all the Guardians with the exception of Giotto and Daemon left the room, fell into total silence.
"I thought our ideas were the same." Giotto broke the silence has arisen, when in fact he had not stopped for even a second eye contact with each other.
Daemon laughed, for the claim that the seriousness with which the other had spoken, was thinking how naive and moralistic.
"naive, dreamy and extremely optimistic. Now I remember why I decided to follow you. "Was his reply, accompanied by a smile. Giotto did not change expression, even for a moment.
Daemon The truth was that the sea was not enough, he aspired to the ocean.
"... So this is goodbye?" Asked Giotto, without another word. Not a reason, not an attempt to debate. That thrilled her reaction left him slightly, though he knew his cool he could keep Giotto in certain situations.
"Yeah. I do not want to have anything to do with you. "
Yet it was not easy, because the fingerprints that are left will not fade into the lives that are never touched, and so would have been between them, the gestures, words had exchanged would never disappear so easily.
The truth, the raw Daemon would never have revealed that out of pride is that he was not ready to quit the sea, because he had to throw in the ocean ... deep fear of drowning.
Another truth, perhaps what was even worse was that basically he was a hopeless liar, because the words that would have meant at that time was unable to say "I love you", "I'll miss you."
Giotto but had always been more courageous than him, before a bye whispered "I forgive you '
***
" Make it yours forever. "
stared angrily the tombstone of the first. He was dead, that man of strong ideals, just as naive and too fragile to fight in a world of his dreams, he did nothing.
What sense had up to that point, when at last the only thing he achieved was the glory, when he had never really want?
This had very often accompanied in its illusions, because in that world, created especially for him ... he would never suffer, but ultimately he was responsible for his suffering.
There was one thing he knew from the start: their "love" was supported by melancholy.
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