Disclaimer: No owneth sadly. No owneth Hedley either.

Pairings: DinoTsuna, Implied YamaGoku, Onesided TsunaHaru.

Dedicated: This is an obvious one. Tsuki, my Sunnymuffins, because she is the most awesomnest people ever, and I love her a little bit more than I love sugar and pie... (AKA: A LOT)

and she puts up with my current KHR obsession. Not even kidding, I am IN LOVE with KHR. I would marry it, but I already have many, MANY spouses. Bwahaha.

Inspired by a wicked awesome art site with wicked awesome DinoTsuna art, with a side of other characters. Pure and unadulterated love here folks. I have links, if you catch my drift.

The perfection of my frailty
Has been questioned and broken

Hedley – Gunnin'

Oblivious to the speaker, it had not been the question that had shocked him.

It was the manner in which it was asked unfortunately, and as is typical in all clichés, a misinterpreted look of utter confusion (horror?) sends one's world crashing down unto itself, waves of despair wracking through the body and the only option left is to run.

Run to escape the intolerable pain one feels after throwing caution into the wind and taking a gamble. Run to free one self from the chains that had once constricted the now shattered heart. Run to erase the memory and humiliation endured, and to avoid the laughter that would surely follow. Run towards protection and refuge, so that you may soon begin to reconstruct the shards of a fragile broken heart.

Then, when you have run away, forcing yourself to a point of pure exhaustion, you must settle down in a sanctuary of choice and begin to mend. One must be careful when handling the shattered pieces, and slowly begin to find a way to create some semblance of a heart, so that maybe one day you can find it in this heart to forgive and forget. After all, the problem with falling for someone so close to you, is that even if they let you hit the ground, they're going to try and help you back up, regardless of complaints and arguments against such unwanted attention.

It was no different than what you see on a soap opera, or read in a cheesy, paperback romance novel, except that Prince Charming was not going to come to the rescue, because in reality, Prince Charming was not a prince, nor was he charming. He was spiteful and horrible and he was probably laughing at your idiocy right now and everything was wrong, and you don't understand what you did to deserve this, and you thought that maybe, maybe he might have liked you back, if only a little.

…Or so you tell all your two best friends who come to your side because that's what friends are there for. But you know, better than anyone, that he is different. He is kind, and caring, and funny and smart and he's everything you've always wanted to be and he swears that he is just like you, and that he can help you get your dreams and aspirations.

It's funny and ironic that he's completely pervaded your dreams and you finally realize what you really wanted and he's the first and only one to completely stamp and crush any hope you may have once had.

Empty and lifeless, you subconsciously push your two best (and only) friends away; because you see the love they share, despite their joint efforts to conceal it from you. You see the looks that pass between them, the gentle caresses they share when they think you aren't looking, and it makes you sick. You want them gone, because they have what you wanted, and they're flaunting it in your face.

Everyone becomes the enemy.

You snap at the two children, because they play and have fun together, and you already regret forcing your own friends away.

You blatantly ignore your happy mother because you know how in love she is with your no-good father. After all, you're their son, and maybe it was their fault all along, for it is their genes that made you unattractive and unappealing.

You even attack the baby with your harsh words, which results in a violent beating. There is a bit of luck on your side fortunately, because he cannot shoot you with his own personal dose of medicine that would surely remedy the situation. There are no life regrets and 'dying will' when someone truly, honestly wants to die at the moment.

…but it doesn't compare to how you treat her. All she managed to say was a cheery Good Morning Tsuna-san before you went completely off tangent, berating her for her foolish feelings and silly beliefs. You lied and told her you never have liked her, and probably never would. You left her crying, but still she smiled at you as you walked away, because she thinks that maybe, just a little, she can understand, because love is the biggest hypocrite of them all.

Leaving your only slightly repaired heart on the floor, you choose isolation. Eating alone, living alone, walking to school alone, it only adds to reasons it's your fault after all. You aren't likeable, you are repulsive, no one has ever befriended you for you, and they all had come with the baby. Nothing was ever about you, it was a sordid twist of fate that for the first time in your short and meaningless life, you managed to make friends, and only shortly after push them away cruelly. You were destined to be alone forever and ever and ever.

Sitting in class, you stare out the window, ignoring the concerned stares you feel piercing your back. Despite your malice towards them all, they still show friendly concern. You feel a small twinge of guilt (regret?) but it pales in comparison to the big, gaping hole he left in you.

You avoid all lunch areas where they can find you, and once again isolate yourself, because you are meant to be alone, and there can be no more denying fate. You hear their calls for you, hear the worry laced in their sweet voices. You're actually surprised to find that the baby hasn't sought you out and forced you to participate in the family. The bruise on your stomach from where he kicked you still hasn't healed, but you fail to notice because you now know that physical pain is nothing compared to what you felt, and still feel.

Trying to escape the constraints of the school proves more difficult when alone. When the other two were here, people would part and let you pass, but you know that it was only because you were with them, and no one properly understood why you were there in the first place, because you never fit in.

The first step outside the building shows you that it's raining, and you grumble and complain about how the world is against you, but no one listens because they just don't care for a loser like you. Clutching your schoolbag to your chest, you make a dash down the streets and avenues up to your front door. Noticing that maman is not at home, nor is anyone else; you breathe a sigh of relief.

You manage to take only a few steps before you slip and fall, landing painfully on your back. Your socks are wet and the floor is apparently too smooth. Carefully sitting up and removing the offending garments, you pretend you don't hear the doorbell ringing or the rolling sounds of thunder in the approaching storm.

Ringing for the nth time, you painfully make your way to the door, because it's obviously important. You expect to see the cow grinning stupidly, or your mother and father smiling in their joyful, carefree way.

What you actually see is him, soaking wet, looking downright pathetic in his drenched clothes. Your heart clenches at the sight, and you can only manage to stare dumbly at him. He offers a weak smile and holds out a small tulip out to you. It too, is pathetic and drooping, but all you see is the hidden meaning and how utterly adorable he looks when he's blushing. You move out of the way and invite him in, quickly running to grab a towel to dry his flaxen locks and hopefully warm him up. He stands in the front hall shivering uncontrollably and you resist the urge to hug him, instead inviting him to sit. He immediately sits on the floor, providing the excuse that he's too wet, and he doesn't feel the need to destroy your house. After all, his subordinates are absent and destroying the house is a very realistic possibility at this point in time.

Casually kneeling in between his spread legs, you laugh as you place the towel over his head and gently towel him off. He gives a sincere smile (gorgeous) and you can't help but return it, shocked at how quickly you seem to have mended. Fear grips you as you realize that you may be too hopeful, and he's not really here for all the reasons you want him to be. Smile lost, you hastily try to retreat. He notices and grips your wrist, pulling you into his soaked chest and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You blush furiously and try to pull away, even if it's only to see his face.


So you don't pull away.

…and you don't think you ever will again.


Tulip is apparently equivalent to a declaration of love.

Broken Vows