A drabble thing to prove I'm not dead. :B Actually, I just felt like writing. The next chapter of Blurry will be up....eventually... I haven't given upon The Other Side of Truth, either, but it'll take a bit longer for an update. I had to redo the idea a bit.

Anywho... Here's this drabble thing I wrote at midnight when I felt sick but still couldn't sleep. :D I also happen to be watching stuff on witch trials. Crazy stuff.

Oh, and by the way, this may or may not actually have to do with drugs. I don't really care how you take it.


Kanda lifted his arm and rested the forearm gently over his eyes. He'd have to be careful to remove it before falling asleep, or it'd fuck with his eyes again. The situation was really ridiculous. This was not the sort of thing that he'd ever imagined himself falling into, after all. He'd lived his hole life till recent completely ignoring the existence of this bodily pleasure. Now, he could feel the poison from it polluting his veins. It was a high, a drug, and he was completely addicted.

Lavi grinned at him with that hyena look of his. It was disgusting. Sometimes it even made him feel sick to his stomach. This person had once been what he'd reluctantly call a friend. Now, he was nothing more than his drug dealer. Whenever he was asked -- and sometimes when he wasn't -- he delivered this grotesque pleasure. Every time Kanda promised himself it was the last time. Every time he knew he couldn't just walk away despite himself.

The whole thing seemed unreal. He knew it wasn't. God, did he know it wasn't. If it wasn't real, he wouldn't feel that sickening low after the buzz went away. If it wasn't real, he could keep himself from crawling back after the low got too strong. Day or night. Neither mattered. Lavi was always willing to supply when Kanda needed it.

One day, he told himself after a drag from a cigarette that very afternoon. One day, he'd be free from chemicals. He'd feel in control again. There wouldn't be highs and lows depending on whether or not Lavi was there. He'd be completely independent again. He'd be able to lead the life he wanted to without interference. There would be no more dependency and no more lost time. There'd just be a linear sequence of events unmarred by this poison.

Today was not that day, though. He found himself here again, coming down from a high. His vision unclouded and again he was in a room that's smell gave away his weakness. His dealer was still grinning with that look that look that still made his stomach turn. This life disgusted him more and more each day. Even if he didn't receive the chemical that day, he definitely thought about it.

Pathetic. That's what he was. Pathetic.

Lavi always bothered him about the high. He always asked him how it felt, how he felt, and even sometimes asked if he was alright. Kanda generally avoided answering. On occasion, he found himself convincing things. Private things. Thoughts and feelings he'd kept down for so long that he didn't even remember them came bubbling up now and again. He always blamed the random confessions on the poison.

At this point, Lavi knew more about Kanda than anyone else, which was probably why he worried about him the most as well. He knew small things. For example, he knew he was born on a Tuesday in the middle of a summer shower. It was coming down so hard outside, that his mother ended up having to give birth in the house, rather than a hospital. He knew that Tuesday was also, coincidentally, Kanda's most hated day of the week. That was probably more do to the fact that he'd convinced himself that it was a day that only brought him misery.

Yes, Lavi knew a lot about Kanda. He also knew that he'd never wanted any part in this sort of thing. Kanda knew he knew this. However, despite how much he worried, every time he was asked, he delivered the high that his companion searched for. Naturally, it was a bit reluctantly, but he always did it.

Kanda continued to lay there. It was a day when he was quiet and refused to say anything. He was beating himself up again. Why was he so weak? Why couldn't he just walk away like he did from everything else in his life?

Lavi left after making no headway. It was a bit reluctant, but he knew some days Kanda was moody. Some days the man didn't want to talk, and that was alright. Still, as any responsible drug dealer would, he worried that he was giving the poor kid something that would kill him rather than sedate him.

After he heard the door close, Kanda finally removed his arm from over his eyes. He turned his head toward the window to watch Lavi leave between the parted blinds. When the redhead was finally out of his sight, his gaze returned to the ceiling above his limp body.

Today, it was a Tuesday, it was raining, and he was still affected by a chemical.