'Round and 'round we go. When we stop, even you don't know.
If only, if only, the wolf pup cries,
If only if only I'd heard the lullaby.
If only if only the woodpecker sighs
If only if only the tree were alive
If only, if only, if only indeed
If only, if only I had what I need.
If only, if only these waves could feel
If only, if only I were real
Ryou laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling. He had nothing better to do anyway.
Yami no Bakura laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, deciding what he wanted for dinner. There was nothing else to do anyway.
Ryou sighed and slowly got to his feet, ready to make dinner. It wasn't that he was hungry, he just had nothing else left to do. The blood had long since dried, it could be cleaned later. And the mess Yami no Bakura had made was already cleaned.
Yami no Bakura came into the kitchen to see his Hikari no Ryou, Hikari no Baka Ryou, in the process of making a steak dinner. It seemed that once more his desire for steak had been conveyed without words. He came up behind the smaller boy and wrapped his arms around his middle wordlessly. He had nothing to say anyway.
Ryou leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. He didn't love Yami no Bakura. He just didn't have anyone else to pretend for. And Yami no Bakura did a fine job of reminding him it wasn't love when he got too close. He opened his eyes and resumed cooking silently. Words weren't needed, not anymore. Words only hurt.
Yami no Bakura smiled into Ryou's hair. Silly boy, he asked for straight lines but ran in crooked circles.
He hated circular logic.
He loved circular logic.
If only, if only, the wind just wails
If only, if only I hadn't failed
If only, if only I was free
If only, if only you could see me