I'm not stupid. Quite the opposite, actually.

I know that every fire becomes embers, then ash, then blows away completely, leaving no evidence it had ever existed - and I know that, normally, no one cares.

Yet I find myself caring that the bright, beautiful fire I once saw, every day - the fire in his eyes - seems to have finally run its course.

Tamaki...Why did you let that fire leave...? I find myself asking, day after day, silently asking myself as I see his dead, lifeless eyes staring off into the distance.

"Ahh - Ahhh!" I let out a screaming gasp as he shoved himself inside of me harder, before climaxing into my hole with a grunt of his own. "Urghh...Kyoya..." I gripped onto his shoulders, riding out my own orgasm. Cum sprayed up between us, but I didn't look. I...I was too scared to open my eyes. I knew what I would see, and I didn't want to see it. Yet, here I was, opening my eyes to see him there, lips parted, a partial blush on his face, blonde hair tussled and wet with sweat. But there was no smile, like there used to be. No voice calling me beautiful, no gentle hands on my back or picking up my glasses, and, worst of all...No fire. There used to be such fire in his eyes, but now...?

They were dead. Cold, dead eyes gazed at me, silently telling me to leave. Silently pleading me to never, ever come back.

But I wouldn't listen. I would always come back.

I would come back, even though I knew he loved her, would rather be in bed with her, would rather have make love with her. But that was impossible. Haruhi had died, two months ago. Killed in a robbery. But that wasn't even the start of my problems.

We had been lovers, for long before she had shown up. But, once he met her, once he fell in love with her, he started growing more distant when we made love. No, when we had sex. After she came, that's all it was - fucking. I loved him, but he lost his affection for me. Somehow, I doubt it was ever truly there.

But, even when she was there, there was still that fire. I was it more when he was with her than when we were alone, but...Still. it was there. And I was content with that.

But now, he's dead. He died when she did, though his body still breaths. He doesn't want me here. He would much rather that I stopped caring, went back to being cold - That way, he could kill himself in peace.

And its only a matter of time, really.

But until then, I'll come.

I'll close my eyes and pretend that he loves me.

I'll pretend that the fire is still there, waiting for me - waiting to heat me with its burning love and passion.

"Ahh! AHH! TAMAKI!" Semen sprayed through the air as the two lovers climaxed together.

A blonde head and a black one fell to the bed, smiling at each other.

Their eyes burned bright, love and passion so strong that others would be burnt at the mere sight of it.

"Tamaki, tell me...Do you love me...?" The black headed boy asked, a small smile on his face still.

"Always, Kyoya...Always..."

"Liar...Stupid...Fucking...Liar..." I growles out, beginning to cry as I walked away from the house.

Well, There's a depressing tidbit for you.

Here's the plot, in case you didn't get it -

Kyoya and Tamaki were lovers. Then Haruhi came to the host club, and Tmaki began to fall for her. Kyoya knew this, and lived with it. They still had sex, but it wasn't the same.

Then Haruhi died. Tamaki was heart broken. All his happiness and 'fire' left.

Kyoya reflects on the past, feels sorrow for the present, and speaks of the sad future.

~Your depressing sinful little angel, HolySinner