Disclaimer: Vampire Knight, to my great displeasure, is not mine. If it was, Zero and Yuuki would be together and Kaname would be dead

Of Clandestine Hearts and Shakespearean Plays

Taffeta Lace


"I will live to kill you someday" he whispers looking up at the stars. She nods and he looks on and the reality hits like a hammer to his head. She looks back down he knows, he knows that she's not coming back.

And he remembers

Once upon a faraway time, before the vampires and chess games and roses with thorns that pierce at his skin like the fangs that pierce at his neck - back to a long long time ago when there was only him and her.

Back to a time where he looks up at the stars and she hugs him from behind and the way she murmurs sweet whispers in her angelic voice soothe his soul and calm his mind. He breaths her in and she sighs a heavy sigh and the warmth of her body against him sends shivers down his spine.

He cries out in agony, red crimson on his hands as he tears at two puncture wounds on the side of his neck wishing he were tearing at the wounds in his heart. Because pain is bliss compared to the usual dull ache that is forever panging in his chest. She rushes to him, visibly upset and takes both hands and cradles them in hers; murmuring sweet nothings that he doesn't pay attention to. And he is starting to think that when she holds him close like the way she is now, that ache in his chest doesn't hurt as much, the wound in his heart starts to heal.

And these are the moments that he wants to last forever, these are the memories that he wants to forever be locked close to his heart.

But the sweetness of his memories wash away from the wave of nostalgia that crashes over him, tones of bittersweet memories and a dull ache in his chest at the thought that they could never, would never be oh so intimate again.

Because she is standing flush next to him now, about to go off with another.

And the thought of that tears at the inside of his heart harder than he tears at the softness on her neck. And the ache that accompanies it feels like someone is stabbing at him over and over again, and he muses at the silver blade winking in the dark as it separates his flesh and bone, as it takes away everything that he needs to survive.

He muses how much she is like a rose, snow white and beautiful and so, so fragile.

And he thinks he has never wanted a flower this desperately before.

But another takes it; a monster, who rides in on his black stallion, a twinkle in his eye, a smirk on his lips; he plucks the white rose, and turns it a sickening scarlet. The monster's eyes crinkle in a smile; and his own blur snow white and blood red. Red for the passion and hunger and lust; red for the fury, the anger, the bitter taste of red crimson that forever is a reminder of how she would never, could never be his.

Because she has him.

He shuts his eyes, because these, he thinks, are the realities he is better off not knowing.

And he thinks back to the stupid play book with the stupid boy who fell in love with the stupid girl and both stupidly committed suicide; he thinks he realises what the girl meant about the rose. Because to him, whether she be called the white rose or the red rose, or Yuuki, in the depths of his mind she would always still be the same exquisitely beautiful rose.

"Then I will keep running…so that you will have a reason to live." she whispers back; barely audible in the howling wind. And he doesn't look up, because he knows what she means.


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