Sweet reunion, bitter wine
Warnings/notes : Pegasus/Cecelia, suicide, Pegasus pov
[!] Spoiler : Cecelia.
Disclaimer : I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.
written at 28th july 2003, by Misura, in a rather odd and depressed mood
She seems very close tonight.
Almost as if I could touch her if I'd just reach out my hand.
I know it's an illusion though.
I have thought I felt her presence nearby many times before.
Too many times.
Too many nights like this one, sipping wine in front of her image.
Hating myself for being too weak to forget about her.
Hating myself even more for wishing those sweet memories away.
Every time I feel my consciousness slowly slipping away.
Until I'm in that shadowy in-between state, between waking and dreaming.
Where she is, eternally captured by the chains of my love.
Once I thought that meant I could bring her back.
For which I paid dearly.
Our meetings never last longer than a few fleeting moments.
A burst of joy and sunlight before I crash into the darkness of oblivion.
Which is of course, a blessing of its own.
The true darkness comes only afterwards, when I awake.
Most people associate hang-overs with headache.
Hang-overs are moments of heartache.
For even if my head may feel like it could split any instant, it is my heart that shatters, over and over again, until I begin to wish I didn't have one.
Wine holds a promise of comfort, of sweet dreams.
Yet those dreams are mere lies, from which the awakening leaves a bitter taste.
They are my only way to be with her though.
I can't resist.
I guess I am a weakling after all.
I should drink less.
This empty bottle in front of me ... is it my fourth tonight? Or my fifth?
I lost count.
She wouldn't have wanted me to drink.
If she'd be here now, she'd tell me to stop.
Her soft hands would gently take the glass out of my hand ...
She wouldn't speak, just look at me with those big, sweet eyes a man can happily drown in ...
I need another bottle.
For a long while after the death of my final dream to revive her, I was unable to sleep without the wine. That's when I got these pills.
They look rather dull, don't they? No bright shiny colors.
Suitable for sleeping pills, don't you think?
When I take these, at some nights the dreams will stay away.
It's what I crave.
It's what I can't live with.
Because those dreams are all I have.
According to the label I shouldn't use these in combination with alcohol.
They taste the same as always.
Faint at first, and then, just at the moment you think your memory was wrong, they will fill your mouth with a sharp bitterness.
It fades slowly and at the moment it's gone, you'll be out like a candle.
How many did I take?
The prescription said three should suffice, while five were dangerous.
Two more can't hurt I suppose.
I'm probably half immune to their working already.
The room around me looks dark now.
Is it because the candles have all burnt down?
I don't think I could light new ones in my current state though.
My legs and arms feel kind of strange.
I see everything in a strange, vague way.
Except one thing.
I must have fallen asleep for a while.
The touch of a hand on my cheek has awoken me.
Even if I wasn't dreaming, it still annoys me.
Who would dare to rob me of my forgetfullness?
"Who but me, my love?"
She is here.
She really is here.
"Yes. You are not dreaming this time."
It must be true.
She never said that to me in any of the dreams.
She would never lie to me.
"Will you come with me?"
I want to scream that word, but my tongue lies in my mouth like frozen.
She smiles and nods, in a sign that she has heard my answer.
"Then take my hand. Take my hand, love, and we'll go home."
I can't lift my arm.
Please. Don't let her slip away again.
"Don't try so hard. Let go. Relax."
She is right. As always.
Our hands touch.