A Bat's Diary
I walk into the small drugstore, looking for anything to keep my awake. A drug to give me a high that I know I'm becoming dependant on. But I don't find it. Instead, I lift a small, black book with a fuchsia heart on the front cover. It looks like the one on my jumpsuit. The one supporting my breasts, which the clerk doesn't even try to hide his fascination with. Men like that infuriate me. They make me want to scream out, "Hello! My eyes are up here!"
But I don't scream it out. Instead I take my prize, which I don't steal for once, and walk out. I fly away, into the rain that pelts my fur and soaks my jumpsuit. I fly to my flat, another thing I didn't steal. How can you steal a flat? I sit down on my big, comfy bed, and open the book. I flip through the pages, all of them blank, like my eyes right now. Empty.
My hands tremble as I lift a mechanical pencil. I click the eraser until I see lead peek out, enough for me to write with. I put it against the first page and start to write…
May 2, 20XX
Why do I feel so alone lately? So fucking alone! I can't stand it! All around me are bright, glittering jewels, and what good are they? I can't talk to God damn jewels! Well…I could, but they sure as hell wouldn't respond.
…Unless I'm going crazy.
Am I? Am I, Rouge the Bat, treasure huntress extraordinaire, going insane? Why would I? I'm NOT crazy! I have no reason to be!
…Except for him.
Why do I think about him so much? What is it about him that makes me burn? With…desire?
Christ, I haven't wanted anyone sexually in so damn long! I'm scared that it's just hormones…Just lustful for anything with a dick…Huh. That's what most people view me as anyway…A sexy bat with no heart, just a vagina and huge tits…
Does it even matter? Does it even fucking matter what they think of me? What the outside thinks of me? NO! IT DOESN'T!
…Or, at least, it shouldn't…
I wish I could love him…show him, somehow, someway, show him the way I truly feel! But he hates me. My love hates me for what I am. Who I am. So it can't happen.
…Or can it?
Oh, how I wish I knew! I hate this feeling! It's…unlike me to feel helpless, weak around a man. Confused, unsure what to say…
Then the bastard has the audacity to say something rude or crude or snide to me, and I blow! I can't help it, so he hates me…
…But…one question remains in my mind. Why did he save me?
I lean back, dropping the pencil. I reread the words that spilled out of my mind, into my hand, and onto this paper. I know who I'm talking about, what I'm describing. I can see it, him, staring down at me with...What had it been? Worry? Caring? I only wish I knew for sure. His hand was in mine, then he pulled me up. I stared into his deep, dark, violet eyes for what seemed like eternity, my hand in his, and then…And then I ruined it.
I pick up the pencil again, and start to write…
I ruined it. No one else. I can't blame that explosion on him. I simply can't because I know, in my heart, mind, and soul, I know that it was my fault. I ruined that special moment with him.
How could I have ruined it so badly? Am I really not as clever and sly as I've always thought? As I've always been described as?
…I gave the pieces back, though.
Yes, I gave them back. He fixed what he'd shattered and he ran off. I started to, but looked back, smiling, because of what he'd done. He hadn't rubbed it in my face. He fixed his jewel, and he left me…alone.
…I'm so alone!
I drop the pencil again. I lift it, then throw it against a wall. It makes a small thud, then falls to my carpeted floor, making no sound. I close the book, my new diary, to protect it from the tears that are smearing my mascara and slipping down my face, dripping off of my chin.
I stand and pace, vision blurred. I love him! I have to tell him, or I'll die! This loneliness is killing me! I run to the door and fling it open. He's there, fist raised, as if he's about to knock. Instead, he touches my cheek. "What's wrong?" he asks me. His voice is the same as always, rugged, tough. It holds an underlying anger, but it also…calms me. Makes me feel safe. "What's wrong, Rouge?" he asks again.
The tears fall faster, hot tears are streaming down my face and I start hiccupping, humiliating myself. He puts his other hand on my other cheek and smiles, softly. He lowers his head and my breath catches. Will he kiss me? No, he just lays his lips on my forehead. "You can tell me," he whispers.
Can I? Can I really tell him the truth? Will he let me? Or will he think I'm lying? I run back to my room and I grab the book, my diary, I hand it to him and slam the door in his confused face. I run back to my bed and throw my self in it, under the safety and warmth of my black satin blankets. I fall asleep, exhausted from my tears, the passion I wrote with.
I wake up and rub the sleep from my eyes. I moan as my memory catches up with the rest of me. Why did I do that? What must he think about--It's here. I scramble up and grab the book, my diary. It's resting on my nightstand, closed. My hands are trembling when I open it. At the bottom of the first page I see it. My heart thuds in my chest, painfully, as I read.
I cared about you. That's why I saved you. So I guess it was a mix of worry and caring that you saw.
I love you. That's why I came by, to try to tell you. Writing's an ancient form of expression, and it's a hell of a lot easier to write than talk. But that's coming from a loner like me.
I love you, Rouge.
I press the book against my chest and start to run out, but I see my reflection in time. I look the way I feel: A mess. My make-up is either smeared or gone. Tear stains burn my cheeks. I can't see him like this. I won't. I go into my bathroom, strip, and turn on the water, blistering hot.
I come out and dress. I start to put on my usual make-up, but I don't want to waste any more time. Precious time was slipping away from me.
I grab the book, ready to confront him with it…maybe. I fling open the door and déjà vu collides into my system. He's there again. "Did you read it?"
I can only nod.
He lets out a breath and looks at his feet nervously. "And?"
I close my eyes, then open them after a few seconds. A tear slips out from one, slides down my cheek, but he catches it before it can fall. He stares at his thumb, where my tear rests. He takes a step closer, so our bodies touch. Heat flames up and I realize that he's not staring down my shirt, but into my eyes. I love guys like that.
I love him.
He loves me.
I watch him close the door behind him as he moves closer. I realize then that I've been backing up, afraid. I swallow and force my self to stop. He takes my hips in his hands and lays his lips on mine.
The book drops from my hands. I hear the soft thud as it hits the carpet, but I don't care. I slide my hands over his chest, linking them behind him.
My mouth opens. His tongue darts inside and mine tangles with his. They move in an erotic dance that has my body throbbing with needs I haven't felt in so long. I bite his lip and he groans. My tongue slides over the small wound and my legs come around his waist. His hands grip my butt and I can feel him harden against me, so tightly pressed against me.
He starts to walk, moves toward my bedroom. He leans his head back. "I love you, Rouge. I don't want just sex."
I nod and smile, a real smile, for the first time in months. "No, I don't either. Make love with me. I love you so much."
May 22, 20XX
Weddings. The day itself is so romantic and crap like that, but the planning…That's a pain in the ass. We finally said screw it. My love and I decided to elope. Two weeks ago.
I love him.
He loves me.
I know he'll love the baby I'm going to have. As soon as he gets home I'm giving this to him. Our baby was conceived on that first night. I know it in my heart.
I love you, Knuckles the Echidna. Forever and for always. I'd never change it.
I hand the book to him when he walks in the door. I kiss him and slide out, telling him I'm going to get a jewel I want.
HOLY SHIT! You're pregnant! What the hell are you doing stealing a fuckin' jewel while you're pregnant?
I can't stop you. I wouldn't change you, at all. Love's a hell of a feeling, Rouge. I wouldn't change feeling it for you, either.
January 1, 20XX
A boy. Red and loud, like his daddy.
Knuckles looked so proud of both of us…
We named him Swift. That little bundle has already latched onto my heart. All I had to do was look at him…like with his daddy.
So small, so young, and already loved by two people.
I have a baby. Who I love. Who will love me.
I have a husband. Who I love. Who does love me.
I'm not lonely any more. I never will be again.
Read & Review y'all!
5-29-07 -- Damn... I'm re-reading all of these old OneShots wondering what the hell possessed me to write them... They're all so dark and creepy! But they're so happy! lol
Yeah, I realize that Rouge is OOC until near the end. Knux isn't really OOC... At least I don't think so... lol
Let me know what you think please! Review!!