If you are deciding to read this, thank you very much. I surprised myself that I can write a whole story in just a longshot. Please I would appreciate it if you give this shot a chance. I am very proud of this. LoL...accomplishent..hahaha despite my chaotic schedule
Hot. It's so hot. How come I'm still alive after this heat? I should just burn with all this shit around me.
He could feel his sweat trickling down from his forehead to the side of his awful face. He shut his eyes to everything.
I don't want to see anything anymore. I just want to disappear and be gone. Gone forever. Gone forever like the promises of those bastards who told me they'd never leave me. But look at me now. I am alone. Burning alone in this rundown, hellish apartment.
He coughed. His nostrils started reacting to the thickening smoke floating above him. "Devour me. Devour me now..." he prayed aloud. He prayed so earnestly.
To be honest, he didn't even know anymore if he was the one who caused the hissing fire around him. He was so wasted after his 26th breakup with the man he thought was finally 'the one'.
He felt his lips curl into what seemed like an ugly, demented smile.
Yeah he is freaking one of them. Those who just looked for a tight hole they can plunge themselves into without worrying about pregnancy. I hate them. I hate them.
"I hate them!" he started screaming. He felt like he was having a screaming contest with the devouring sounds of the fire snaking its way around his sex, soaked place.
The ceiling on his right side gave away. He could hear it very clearly. The sound of old wood eaten by the hungry flames. The photos of him when he was still young and pure melted with the reddish tongues.
No matter how hard he shut his eyes, he could see the approaching waves of red and orange towards his limp body. He waited with such anticipation.
He coughed again. This time harder, deeper, longer. It seemed like there were nails digging inside his throat. It felt raw, rough and dry. Dying by suffocating wasn't so cool like he'd thought. His poor lungs seemed to have shrunk already. Just a matter of time and he'd be gone.
Which wouldn't make a difference on the face of planet Earth. My whole existence seemed like a mistake anyway.
He was born a loser, and in the end, he'd die a loser. Such was the fate of a gay with no talent. With no money. And with no beautiful face. No wonder when they fucked me they hadn't looked me in the eyes.
"Fuck..." Why did I just realize it now? No one had really looked through me. No one accepted me. No one.
He curled up into a ball sensing the heat growing more intense by each passing second. Maybe he was already melting. Hell knows! He drank 3 bottles of hot sake. To hell with everything!
But soon he heard a demented laugh escape his chapped lips. He heard a voice that didn't sound his calling out a name. Pathetic, but he had no other name to utter. "Ta-Takano-san..."
He laughed despite the tears he had tried so hard to stop. But he lost to himself. He mocked himself at how he was already dying, and yet he was thinking of someone who was just kind and nothing more.
"Oi, Onodera, what are you spacing out there? Hurry up and bring those boxes inside!"
Onodera Ritsu stood with his emerald eyes staring at a truck parked across the establishment he was working. His one arm carrying a light box of assorted candies, he used the other free one to tug his cap lower to his face.
With one last glance to the people carrying huge boxes into the bungalow styled house with a small garden in front, Ritsu walked inside the convenience store he was working part-time.
"Arashi, have you heard that lot being sold? There seem to be a new owner," he began while he assorted the candies on the display rack.
Blonde, tall and masculine, the man exuded a strong and wild presence. Arashi frowned at Ritsu before throwing the box he was carrying at Ritsu's feet.
"That's Ueno for you," the voice barked. Ritsu had to lift his gaze at the sudden cold treatment. Just last night this very same man was grunting like an animal on top of him.
Arashi inserted his hands in his gray work overalls and bended close to the brunette with a perplexed expression. "We're at work. Have some sense in your head for crying out loud!"
"Sorry. I forgot."
Satisfied, Arashi started going on at the corners to check more stock. As if the tension between the secret lovers, hadn't occurred.
"Yeah. I heard there was finally an idiot who decided to buy that old house. Who knows, maybe he or she is a lonely old person wanting some peace from the busy life in Tokyo before dying," said the man sounding so apathetic and bored.
"What's so wrong with that?" Ritsu asked absentmindedly. The question was more for himself than the man he was talking to.
"Huh?" Arashi's thick brows furrowed as he looked at the emerald-eyed man staring outside at the busy people hauling furniture. His lips curled up a little as he watched his bitch at night.
He would be such a pretty face if not for that smashed-like centipede scar on his face. Such a waste. Arashi thought to himself. But he didn't care so much about it since he always had his eyes closed when fucking the slim man anyway.
Finally done with the preparations for the day, Ritsu placed the sign 'open' and took his position at the cashier counter while Arashi, the son of the owner of the convenience store laze at the back smoking, or probably jerking off at some porn DVD.
Business was always slow at a Sunday. Most teens who stayed at the convenience store during weekends go to malls or somewhere to kill time before burying themselves with more studying.
He flipped lazily at a magazine when he heard the bells hanging by the glass door ring. A customer had entered the shop and so he raised his face to greet.
Fearless. That was the first word that popped inside Ritsu's head as he watched the man walked around the shop. He had dark hair that accentuated the clearness of the hazel jewels scrutinizing the goods on one rack. He had a composure of someone that came from an extensive training yet he had a very well built body. Not too muscular and not thin either.
He was so dressed so casually like he just woken up that Ritsu can't help but think the man was someone who didn't care for physical appearances that much.
Finally after so long, the man carefully placed his cans of beer on the counter looking bored.
Although Ritsu was curious why the man was buying beer so early in the morning, he shut his mouth instead and started scanning the items.
"Your scar..." a voice that sent shivers down Ritsu's spine started.
Ritsu's hand froze by the scanner, the can in hand as he looked at the eyes looking at his face. Despite the cap, the blotch of uneven skin on his right cheek was still visible.
Ritsu didn't know what to do. His body grew tense. People had always mocked him because of that ugly scar on his face. And he hated it.
Pursing his lips together, Ritsu began scanning the items in a hurry.
"Your scar," the unknown man again repeated making Ritsu frown under his cap. "You got that in a fire right?"
At the observation, Ritsu's lips parted a little as if to ask 'How'd you know?'
"It wouldn't have gone bad if it was treated properly," the man continued while counting paper bills from his black, leather wallet.
After giving the paper bills, the man right away grabbed the plastic bags and went out.
"Hey! Sir! Your change..." Ritsu trailed off as he followed the man with his gaze disappear into the old house that had been unoccupied for a long time.
So...he's the new owner...