** Warning: WaluigiXLuigi. If you do not approve of this pairing there is a back button that you can use. It's not like I broke it to keep you here. **
I had a dream about you last night. At first, I thought I was actually experiencing it for real.
The only reason I thought that was because I could feel your hand holding mine, fingers gently wrapped around the base of my hand as my fingers did the same to yours. Just by that gentle hold, I was imprisoned by you as you began dragging me towards a vast field of tall grass underneath a clear sky.
A sky that was just as blue as your eyes, which I thought I had been staring into the entire time. I was amazing at how they never clouded up in sadness or anger every single time I flatly told you that I wanted to be at home. Instead, they laughed as you did, your smile making realistic shivers run down my spine. I heard your voice, every single syllable and tongue roll that came from your pink, smooth lips like music to my ears.
Your body warmth was comfortable as you hugged me while we were lying down. Your arms kept me from scrambling away, my chest was pressed firmly against yours, and our legs were tangled together. I had wrapped my arms back around you, pressing my forehead to yours as you laughed for the umpteenth time.
I remember your kiss, soft and smooth against my dry and wind chapped lips that I had been constantly biting the entire time we were together. My tongue had slid into your mouth, twisting and dancing with yours as you made small, whining sounds that I swallowed without a second thought. I broke our kiss to press my lips to your neck – to feel your heartbeat rapidly beating under that silk like skin of yours.
Something about your beauty started to anger me, though. You have always been short, pudgy, with your skin just about as fair as that of a princess. Your hair was just the right shade of brown, your eyes so round and lively, and you are powered by your boundless energy that only seems to run out when you're cowering in fear of a ghost or a mere spider on the floor. Your accent is thick with Italian heritage, your voice just now reaching full maturity and making you all the more appealing to me.
I became jealous of my tall, skeletal build that made me appear to be halfway dead from where I barely ate a single thing. My skin is a hideously faint russet from either too many hours in the sun or too many hours in the dark. My hair is that of mud, and when not under a cap is uncontrollable no matter what I try to do to make it like your tame brown. My eyes scream of insomnia, empty and bland looking while outlined with rings caused by stress and exhaustion. I would sleep to try to fix that, but even though I'm always tired and somewhat moody unless I'm in competition against other idiots that don't even stand a chance against me (during which I boast like the idiot that I am). No matter how many times I try to rest, I always see you – smiling, laughing, and taunting me with your perfection.
It made me sick, the more I thought about it and looked at you. You were lying on the grass, smiling and looking at nothing else but me, holding my hand and squeezing it and expressing your feelings for me wholeheartedly. You seemed to think that I was perfect myself.
Or, you were acting like you thought that of me.
I began to feel like your smile was actually you trying not to laugh at me. Your hands started to feel colder and less like you actually wanted to hold mine. Your eyes started to look dazed, as if you were more focused on making insults about me in your head instead of telling me never ending sweet nothings.
The sky began to fill with rain clouds, I began to feel my happiness drift away with the wind that blew against me.
Just as it started to drizzle, you looked up and frowned, muttering something about how much you hated the rain with the gloomy, depressing atmosphere it brought. You muttered how much you hated how the world lost its color, how it made people hang their heads in misery. You also mumbled about how ugly rainclouds were, what with their sickening appearance, and how the raindrops they sent ruined the days of many people.
By the end of your ramblings, you had returned your gaze to me – needless to say it wasn't as happy as it was before the rain came along. Your eyebrows were furrowed together in frustration, your eyes pierced me with how much hatred they were filled with, looking me up and down as your mouth curled up in disgust.
You were comparing me to the rain.
My heart shattered into a thousand pieces, my chest stung with embarrassment, confusion, and pain. I tried to blink back my tears, but wished to see you distorted through them instead of your repulsed look that you continued to give me.
I sniffled before I wailed, quickly bringing a fist up and sending it into your face. I topped you, keeping you on the ground at my mercy as I continued to punch your face and torso, digging my knuckles into your skin, clawing at your cheeks, even going as far as to stand up and kick you as hard as I could. I wanted to break your spine. I wanted to make you bleed.
I hated you.
You were my crying and flinching punching bag until you stopped making noises and moving altogether. You went limp from your curled up fetal position, and your body didn't show that you could have been breathing. I didn't care; as a matter of fact I didn't want to care. I continued to kick and punch you until my knees were sore, crying the entire time because I knew.
I knew you thought that you were better and more beautiful than me. Needless to say, it hurt.
By now I came to notice that the rain did not let up at all. Instead, it was coming down like it was a waterfall from the sky, soaking our clothes.
I pushed you onto your back with my foot, your eyes closed and your mouth frowning while surrounded by bruises and blood. I stomped on your chest, knelt down and punched your stomach and ribs in an attempt to get you to wake up.
But you never did open your eyes. You looked tranquil, yet abused at the same time.
It was impossible to make you look grotesque like me.
Feeling bad, I knelt down and pressed my lips to your neck, gently placing my hand over yours that rested on the ground beside you.
Yet, when I kissed you, I felt no pulse. My arm was not being lifted and lowered with your chest as you breathed. You didn't giggle uncontrollably when I nipped at your jaw line.
I sat up to get a better look at what I had done to you. I could only imagine all the bruises I had painted onto your torso underneath your happy colored clothes, your blood had left a red stain on your face, dribbling from your nose and mouth.
I think I killed you.
Underneath those unforgiving clouds, I shook and hugged your lifeless body, crying harder than I ever had before. I keep asking myself why I cherished and detested you so, and why you loved and loathed me. Or, rather, why you acted like you loved me to show me you loathed me.
My tears mixed in with the rain that continued to fall, and soon I had started crying against your chest.
I was going to miss you.
When I woke up the first thing that I heard was the rain hitting my bedroom window, almost sounding like rocks pelting against the glass. I blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, and I felt the remnants of tears against my eyelids. I rubbed my face against my barely used pillow, feeling the dampness of tears that I cried – I also noticed that I had been hugging it just as I had been hugging your body.
I sat up, pain in my chest and throat causing me to wince and regret taking my sleeping medication last night. I reached down and rubbed my body knees through the blanket, I'm guessing I must have been kicking in my sleep.
I left the bed to make my way to the shower, where I did nothing but stand in the water stream for a few minutes, mindlessly rubbing dollar store shampoo through my mud colored strands as I recollected what I had dreamt about.
I stood in front of the mirror, blinking at my empty and ringed eyes with my own disgust, occasionally glancing downwards at my chest – my own ribs that were slightly poking out scared me.
I got dressed in my normal attire incase if I ever gained the energy to leave the house, though this took a long time with my sore joints – I felt old and useless.
In my living room, I lounged on my couch until noon, listening to the rain falling the entire time. With a sigh, I decided I felt like getting a glass of water – that could be my lunch, yes indeed, because I was pretty sure that I had not a scrap of actual food in my kitchen (not that I cared, I hated food ever since I saw what too much of it could do to one person).
Just as I finished taking a sip, harsh knocking sounded from the front door. I slammed my cup on the counter and groaned – was it the bank coming to tell me I haven't paid for something in full yet? Was it just some kids leaving some stupid prank on my doorstep? I didn't want to know and I didn't care to know, so I merely set my glass in the sink and made my way towards the stairs. If I gave off the "no one's here" vibe, maybe they'd go away.
"I know you're there, Waluigi." I froze with my foot set on the first step, turning around to look at the door as if it was the one talking to me, "Please, just… answer the door…"
I silently approached the door, still trying to figure out if it was your voice that I had heard. Grabbing the knob, I slowly turned it and pulled the door back cautiously, peeking around the corner of it.
"There you go. It's me." You reached out and pushed the door back, forcing me to let you come inside, "Stop acting like I'm gonna hurt you."
I snarl back, "I know you're not gonna hurt me because you're such a damn pussy."
You shook your head, "Waluigi, please, take this seriously…"
"I am taking it seriously," I snapped back, "I'm taking it seriously that you're in my house when I obviously want to be left alone, Eyeballs."
You barely seemed phased by my insult, "Waluigi." You reached up and cupped my face with your hand, so warm and comforting it was hard to not press my head against it, "Maybe if you weren't so rude and snappy, you would've known this much sooner."
With a sigh, your take your hand back and turn around, forcing the door closed as you did, "I… had a dream, last night. I dreamed that you and I were together, somewhere in a field – laughing, kissing. I dreamed that you called me beautiful, held me close to you as we laid there."
I instantly paled – did we have the same dream?
"But then, the sun went away and there were rainclouds. I looked at you to ask if you wanted to retreat to a shelter, but you were making comments about how… rain was… stupid, ugly, unwanted and depressing. You went on a rant about it as you slowly started to look at me."
In my dream, you did that to me.
"You hurt my feelings. I started crying and punching you, and you surprisingly didn't fight back against me. I… beat you until you were…" You swallowed, "…dead. I killed you."
"And did you regret it?" I asked curiously.
You turned around, tears at your eyes. You then broke out into a sob as you suddenly pulled me into an embrace, clinging onto me like I was your lifeline while your tears dampened my shirt.
"I – I – I did!" You finally said through your tears, "I regretted it because I love you, and in my dream I felt like you pretended to love me only to tell me that you hated me." Your voice sounded painful as it broke, once again worn down to crying into my chest like the pitiful man that you are.
I sighed, looking around before I cautiously lifted my arms to hug you back, "I-it's okay, Luigi…" I whispered, "…it-it's alright… it was just a dream…"
Your crying started to cease to sniffles as you looked up at me, blinking a few times and sending more tears sailing down your face.
"…I figured you wished to kill me, though." I deadpanned.
"I – I don't." You replied, "I – I love you… I just, always thought that you wanted me dead. A-and this dream gave me the guts to come out here and tell you my feelings." You pushed yourself away from me, now wearing your angrily-brave face, "I don't have any clue why the hell I love you like I do, but it's the truth." You took a deep breath, "Now, I'm waiting for any snarky comments you may have to try to bully me."
I smirked and scoffed at you, causing you to stand up straighter. I shook my head, "Luigi… some might say you're an idiot for what you just did."
You bobbed you head a little, "Well, yeah, maybe."
"If this was a universe where I truly hated your guts, they would be right." I stepped forward, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at me (not that I really needed to, but I felt like I did), "But in this case, all I can do is this."
It's been the first time that I've silenced you with a kiss fueled by own feelings towards you.
I love you, Luigi.
I'm glad that you know that today.
**Thiiiis was only supposed to be one paaage to add to Collection buuuuuuuut then it turned into twwoooooo paaaageeeess with more details that I didn't know I was subconsciously aaaddding while I was haaaalf asleeeeeeeeeep.
I feeeeel this is good enough to beeeee its own story for nooooooooooowwwwww and I'm tirrrrrreeeed and I coulda been writing a college paaaaaaper instead of writing this thiiiiiiiing. But I wrote this thing instead of the paaaaaaaaaaaaper and now I wanna go to beeeeeeed. So I'll upload this and say gooodniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.
Andremembercallmesickcallmes tupidbutdon'tcallmecrazyorsanebecauseI'mCrazeeCanadiaandI'msleepydangit. **