She's like air.
She's like water.
She's like the sky.
I keep telling myself, I can hang onto her. That she'll remain, and be with me. That she will remain under my arm, that she will remain under my gun hand.
I have two of them. One for myself, and one for her. But she could have both of them if she wanted. She could have Django too. She could have it all.
If she just asked.
Sometimes she reminds me of the rain. When it pours down your back, when it seeps into your clothing, your hair, your skin, your bones. Clinging, and never letting go, and yet when the sun comes out.
Sometimes she reminds me of the sun when it's just coming up from behind the horizon, when sounds are muted, and the warmth on your face is the only thing you can feel.
She's like her own universe. Interstellar and revolving. Never stopping for a second, except to look you in the eyes.
Her eyes are blue. An intense blue, something you could asphyxiate on, piercing your lungs, like hot lead, and choking on your own blood.
Her hair's the color of fired blood.
I remember she told me it keeps her from getting lost because everyone can spot her by it. They can see it coming a mile away and she's right. She's always right. I can always see her coming a mile away and yet I'm never prepared for her.
I heard her laugh in the other room. She's talking loudly about...it doesn't matter because listening to the sound of her voice is more important. That's how I can tell she is happy.
"Amy, god you're such a brat. I wanna play too!"
"No, you'll break it, and I don't have enough money to buy another one."
"Because Sei's a cheapskate."
"No! That's not what I meant. Why can't I play?"
"Open up Amy, don't shut me out like this. Oh! Why you brat. Fine see if I'm ever nice to you again."
There's a moment's pause.
She turns to me and smiles.
"Jo, what are you doing?"
She smiles again.
I realize I'd been holding my breathe, that's why it's so quiet.
She pulls up a stool and sits next to me. She turns to the television screen, blinks at it, and then rolls her eyes.
"Can I change the channel?"
I keep quiet because she should know the answer to that.
"Jo, I'm hungry. Where's Kyouhei?"
I continue to keep quiet, because she knows all the answers to all the questions she asks and yet...
"What are thinking about Jo?"
Her foot accidently brushes against my shoe. She continues to stare at me, and nudges against the heel of my boot with her big toe. She pouts, huffs at her orange bangs, and abandons her previous question.
I believe it's the only question that she doesn't have the answer to.
I like that.
"Watch out! Oh my god, I hate horror movies. Why do the people have to be so dumb-oh my god watch out, he's right behind you. Ah!"
She hides her face in her two small hands.
"Is it over Jo?"
She removes her hands without my cue, and I think I'm paying more attention to her than I am the movie. This is why I'd rather watch television on the rooftop.
"Whew. Jo, this is scary. Let's watch something less...um scary. Oh, isn't there a Lovely Princess marathon going on right now? Jo, quick change the channel."
Sounds like lovely crap.
"Oh why do I even bother. No one wants to do anything fun."
Shesighs loudly, so I can hear. She does it again in case I ignored the first sigh.
I change the channel-
She perks up.
-to a Samurai Iron flick marathon.
She deflates. Like a balloon.
"Jo, you're so mean. I can tell when I'm not wante-Oh my god, that's so cool. What do you call that?"
It seems I turned the channel right in the middle of a decapitation move gone wrong.
Meg doesn't know it yet. But she will soon, in about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1-
"Ewww, change the channel."
I change the channel because I've already seen this episode. I stop on Zombie Hell VI. I take one good look at Meg, who looks like she's about to wet herself, and I change the channel again, and for about a five minute period, I flip through each station.
I stop on Blood Lust Mayhem Fighter.
"Is it just me or does that guy have a huge head?"
My lip twitches.
"Geez, is he supposed to be an evil genius? Gross, I can see a vein."
The corner of my mouth is fighting the gravity known as Meg's commentary.
She doesn't mean to be funny, it's just how it comes out.
"I hope he doesn't tip over."
Tipping over would be the least of his problems since his arm is currently being chewed on by a huge monster bat.
"Don't bats only come out at night? Why would it come out during mid-day?"
Maybe because it's having lunch.
"Look he tipped over."
Because his head was ripped off.
"Jo don't you think this is boring? Let's go to the movies. Whatya say Jo?"
"Aw c'mon Jo. My God, you're so boring. What if I promise you a good time."
Sometimes Meg will say something that completely catches me off guard that I know shouldn't, and yet still, I find myself staring at her questioningly when she phrases things in her own way. I know she has naivety that could probably bore holes through a tanker, and that she's completely harmless, but sometimes I wonder...
"A good time?" And sometimes, rarely, I like to play along with her naivety because in a way it does my mind some good. She never gets the joke, and I think I like it that way.
"Yeah, a good time, yuh know Jo? Popcorn and dark aisle seats."
I hate that I both enjoy and detest her innocence. All those times of teasing her without her knowing, slipping in words that go above her head, and preforming small gestures that any other person would read as attraction as she remains oblivious. I hate how she can trust everyone around her sometimes, or how helpless she is when someone stronger comes along. It makes me angry that some day, some where, I might be late in coming to the rescue and then I think what will happen. Will her innocence, her faith, her goodness save her then? It annoys me that I know the answer to that, and it torments me that I can't let it go.
I want her to be strong. I want her to stand on her own. I want...I want so much for her, and she deserves it all. More than I could give her. I keep thinking, if she remains with me itwill be a good thing, but then I realize how selfish I'm being. I have to ask myself who it will be good for, Meg or me? And I instantly know the answer to my own question.
Its always been me, and if Meg remains with me, it will always remain that way.
"I'm going out, stay here to wait for Kyouhei."
"What! That's not fair. Why do you get to go out and I have to stay here? It's so unfair Jo...it's so unfair it should be a...a...crime."
I watch her as she gives me a not-so-nice look. One of those determined stares that means she won't take no for an answer. One that comes with hair flipping and hands on the waist. She's trying to stare me down, but I wonder if she realizes that I'm taller than her, and stronger and...meaner.
"Meg." I should only have to say this once.
She gives me a sharp glare, then suddenly it melts into something pleading, and when she sees her trump card isn't working, it turns back to angry, and I ready my ears for the inevitabl-
"Uh, I don't know why I put up with you, with any of you for that matter. Whatever, go out, do whatever Jo thinks is fun, because obviously, Meg doesn't know what fun means. Go out and shoot some bad guys, or shoot the pavement, or the air, or whatever!
She sits back down in her chair with a bit more force than necessary, and turns her head to look out the window.
"I just thought we could do something fun, yuh know, together."
Right now, she's stabbing me in the chest, and it hurts, hurts worse than any bullet hole or sword's edge could inflict.
"Don't wait up for me."
I hate myself sometimes. I hate myself so much sometimes that I wish I could just take that gun that was promised to Meg, and use it on myself.
A/N: Okay, this fanfic took a weird turn. I thought I could bring something nice and fluffy, with a bit of humor, but then it spins out of control and I end up with this.