Author: Raging Kitsune PM
Cyan has trouble sleeping one night. What is it that plagues his thoughts?Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst - Words: 1,488 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 2 - Published: 11-30-03 - id: 1623157
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Started on November 23, 2003
Completed on November 24, 2003
I missed Cyan. I delurked for the occasion. Feel free to run away.
By Kitsune (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Summary: Cyan angsts. What else is he good for?
Rating: I suck at ratings... PG for horrible and vulgar language.
Disclaimer: BMB and its characters belong to Miss Sandra Delete. This is an unsanctioned bastardization.
The steady whirring of the fan had been soothing at first, but now it seemed to grate on my eardrums, angrily chasing away any thought I may have had of sleeping.
Damn thing wasn't even working properly. I had long since kicked off the covers so that the fan's air current was blowing against my bare flesh, but it was still unbearably hot. A layer of moisture had begun to form droplets over my skin.
Growling softly, I popped an eye open and glanced over at the alarm clock. The fuzzy red numbers danced around a bit before they came into focus.
Three fucking forty-two in the morning.
With a scowl I buried my face in the pillow, willing it to be morning.
That wishful thinking lasted until about 3:43, when I realized that the world was against me sleeping tonight. The sound of a loud crash and the subsequent buzzing of a car alarm was enough to have me sitting up and glowering at nothing in particular, wishing for the world to just end so that I no longer had to endure its unending torture.
Yeah. Okay. Maybe I was blowing things a bit out of proportion.
But I was entitled. I'd had a shit day, and now all I wanted to do was sleep. Was that so much to ask?
The car alarm had incited the wrath of the neighbor's dog, who was now howling threateningly like a wounded hair dryer at the menacing piece of metal.
Groaning, I sat up, pushing loose strands of hair from my eyes. There was no chance in hell that I was going to go to sleep now. I might as well embrace my fate.
I slid to the edge of my mattress and let my feet touch down to the floor. Plodding across the room, I paused at the window and pressed my cheek against the screen. It was nice and cool, giving my cheek a smooth, tingling sensation. I considered lifting the screen and throwing random projectiles at the dog and whatever else was out there, but I found myself sinking down to the floor instead.
There was obviously a reason I couldn't sleep. And it wasn't the fan. It wasn't the heat. It wasn't the alarm. It wasn't even the goddamn dog, despite how incredibly annoying the stupid thing was.
I dropped my forehead to my knees, hugging them closely against my chest. My annoyance was quickly fading, leaving me feeling drained.
My thoughts began to drift back towards earlier in the day, then did a quick about-face. Fingernails began to dig into my skin, but I paid no mind to the pain. Anything was better than thinking about... that.
Even thinking about Ronnie was better than that.
Ronnie... Ronnie with her flowing dark hair and her bright smile... not to mention her lovely eyebrow piercing... her intelligence, her wit, my still-beating heart clutched in her blood-soaked fist...
One might think that I was not yet over Miss Veronica. And truth be told, I wasn't. Not completely, anyway.
Me? Bitter much?
My fingers began to drift listlessly over the floor, tracing mindless patterns. Thinking about Ronnie still burned. I didn't want to think about her. But it was better than the alternative. She was the only one who could keep my mind off of... that.
I love Ronnie. Well, I loved her. Didn't I? Of course I did...
I don't know, I guess when I look back, sometimes I wonder. I mean, if I loved Ronnie as much as I think that I did, then how could she not love me in return? How could she just dump me like that, break my heart, and walk away without a care?
If it had been true love, then wouldn't she have realized how fucking lonely I was, how much I needed her?
No one understands. No one fucking understands. Just because you're constantly surrounded by people doesn't mean that you don't feel alone. I mean, yes, I love my family and my friends, and I know that they love me, too, but sometimes you just want more.
Why can't I have someone who loves me completely, who will listen to me, comfort me, stay with me... someone whom I can love completely in return? Harley and Mikhael have that. For Christ's sake, even the guitar rapist and that asexual boy have the perfect love that I long for.
Maybe I'm just being selfish. But why am I the one who has to be alone? Why can't I find my soul mate?
No, that's wrong. I have found my soul mate. But that's just a lost cause, so I'm destined to be alone.
Don't want to think about it, don't want to think about it don't want to think about it don'twanttothinkaboutitdontwanttothinkaboutitdontwanttothinkaboutSkids.
Anything but that. Anything but today. About what he said. About what I said. Anything but that.
It's bad enough when the person you love the most in the world looks right past you at someone else. But now...
He said that he hated me. *Skids* said that he hated me.
Afterwards, he said that it was okay, that he didn't hate me. But at the time, he meant it. I could feel it, his hatred swarming towards me in an angry mass.
And you know what? I deserve his hatred. What kind of cabron doesn't notice when his best friend is in that much pain? I was so wrapped up in my own shit, I didn't even stop to think that maybe there was something wrong. It makes me wonder if I even know Skids at all.
By now the car alarm along with the incessant barking had long since stopped, but I didn't want to go back to bed. If I dreamed now, it would be nothing but his face as he said those words, repeating over and over again. Every time I heard those words, I felt like I was being burned from the inside.
Closing my eyes, I tried to think of better things, of better times, but nothing could erase the image that had been burned into me.
Why does love hurt like hell?
That whole proverbial bullshit about falling in love with your best friend was definitely not all it was cracked up to be. Ever since I had come to terms with the fact that I was in love with Skids, I had been miserable. There was nothing good about unrequited love. Especially when any misstep could ruin your friendship...
And who could I talk to about this? I obviously can't tell Skids, and even telling Harley is out of the question. The only person who knows is Mikhael and quite frankly he's not really the person who I want helping me deal with my severe emotional problems.
I could talk to Ronnie, throw my love for Skids in her face. Tell her that I never loved her, that she was only a cheap replacement for a love that I could never have. But that wasn't true, wasn't true at all.
In fact, it scares me to think about how in love I was with Ronnie. How I ignored and neglected Skids. Sometimes I wonder if during that time I had started to get over Skids.
And the thought of not being in love with Skids hurts more than anything else ever could.
Even if Skids never loves me in return, I will always have my love for him. That love is so pure, so real, and no one can take that away from me.
I know that I'm unworthy of his love. I've taken him for granted, pushed him to the side. Skids deserves better. That's why I'll never tell him. I'll just fade into the background, and as long as he is happy I can be at peace.
A few tears kissed at my eyelids as I began to drift off to sleep.
God, why do I feel like I've been scorched from the inside out?