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i found God
i found him in lover.
when his hair falls in face
and his hands so cold they shake.
“medicated,” his words drag you by the roots of your hair back to reality and you are piecing them together. medicated? i’m medicated? you are medicating me? huh? “that’s a very attractive face.” he scoffs and almost reaches out to touch you. you bite down on your lip because he knows you haven’t been listening and he knows that you have swallowed his words like the pills that you are supposed to be taking; he clutches them in his fist and sighs before placing them back on the tray beside her. you eye the ugly dull blue and red with disdain in your gaze. he expects you to so willingly take those pills --then what? what follows?
matsuda’s unpredictable.
“why am i taking them this time?”
a shrug is all that you receive as an answer and you suppose it suffices as you climb atop his lap, successfully pushing his chair away from his desk and commanding his attention. “yasuke--” you draw out against his jawline as your arms wind around his neck; suddenly you are a lilac sky, a mosaic of beautiful things, the sun’s rays reaching miles across. suddenly, you are much more beautiful than terrifying and that terrifies you. he has the ability to change you into something much softer than despair, but harder than love. you are a pressurized stone; a collapsed Greek building; the wind rustling the ends of your hair. he turns you into everything sweet, but you’ll sour eventually.
your nose brushes against his skin and sets his skin alight like streetlamps dotting usually vacant sidewalks.
you dare to travel where others do not.
mukuro walks in.
groaning, you turn in your seat as matsuda makes a face that communicates how annoyed he is (by either you or your meddlesome sister, or both). “what?” he barks at her: rough with a sharpened edge to his voice, but his grip on your waist tightens.
she’s quiet as she looks away from the both of you and towards the desk. it is always hard for her to look at matsuda evenly. “brought dinner since you both’ll starve otherwise,” she throws the bag on the desk and the
bag crinkles as does the skin between matsuda’s eyes.
you are too young to worry about despair.
not yet, your mind sings; your blood has settled.
“packed your lunch,” mukuro says evenly with the faintest hint of a smile; matsuda eyes the bag before passing it along to you. your greedy hands accept it as you
open it to peer inside.
“gross,” you make a face that makes mukuro’s crumble.
matsuda makes a noise between a scoff and a sigh.
you’ve known matsuda for so long that you are able to connect recent experiences with past ones and you sink into the sweetness of them. all of them are lined with a bitterness as you ready yourself to pull at his insides until he is nothing but a heart that would only pound for you (as though he’s anything more now). “thanks,” you toss your voice back at mukuro as she makes her exit and immediately you return to the safety of the crook of matsuda’s neck. your lips skim his skin and stain it a deep crimson. you’ll have to get him to wash out the stain in his shirt even though it’ll take weeks and his face will pull every which way while he tries to avoid it.
you hum against his neck pleasantly before nipping at the skin; his hands grip around your waist and pull you close as his eyes slip close. the shadow that falls upon him shifts until he is saturated sunlight that is pulling you in and threatening to blind you. the way he glistens when it is only the two of you is remarkable. your lips take a detour to meet his before he can spit any words that will shatter the moment. he knows how to press your buttons to get you so fired up that you could destroy his whole lab, but he knows that you’d like that too much.
“love you,” you whisper into his mouth as he moves his hands to cup your face and kiss you until your legs shake and your lips bruise. this type of love is hazardous and leaves scars and bruises, but they all hurt in the way that the both of you want them to hurt. it is a physical ache that starts deep in your legs and travels straight up to your chest until you are heaving for air on the stoney ground. you adore this feeling that floods through your body as you dig your fingernails into his skin and deepen the kiss as you arch your back. “love you so much.” your voice is deep and coils around his body as it warms him and chases chills down his spine.
he never says it back; the reply is always an exasperated sigh or an enraged growl. his rough edges do not soften behind closed doors. you wouldn’t enjoy him half as much if he dissolved into poppable bubbles and chewable gum. he responds with wandering lips that press against your skin fleetingly as they travel to your shoulder. your fingernails threaten to draw blood. you know he reveres you.
“get off,” he bites down on your shoulder and you squeal in mild, feigned shock.
you obey his command and your heels click against the tile as you stand up and adjust yourself.
“no fun, yasuke,” you whine as you head over to the only other chair in the rather small room. it is next to the window, but you look away from it and towards the notebook in front of you. his handwriting is messy, almost illegible, but your eyes roam over the words that he’s written with morbid curiosity. there’s a rustling behind you and you figure that he’s deciding to have dinner. words are tossed over his shoulder, but you are flipping through pages now: reading his scrawling words that creep across pages, inking them with information about his studies. all of it is engrossing and you finally stop when his hand slams down next to you and you jump.
“you need to eat too.” his composure is cool, but his voice is hard.
the annoyance on his face is intoxicating.
you tip your head back, lifting a hand to gently stroke the side of his face; he doesn’t lean into your touch, but instead remains stony as he glares. your world is now upside-down and you’d like to kiss him and consume all of his breath, but he sees through you and pulls out of your grasp before you can move. you saw that one coming though as you quickly reposition yourself and flick the food placed before you. your lip curls up at the thought of eating right now and he sighs as he moves his notebook away from you and leans on his desk. “you may not want it, but you’d be fucking stupid if you didn’t eat. i know you haven’t all day.”
you shrug.
it is cute that he is so worried.
“better things to do, yasuke. more important things to do.” you laugh fleetingly as you take his hand into your own and hold it tightly between both of your hands before moving it to your cheek. you lean into his touch and crave it evermore. “when we’re atop the world, then there will be plenty of time to eat all the shitty food in the world.” but you know that you are already atop the world; you have been since birth. you look down at all the tiny people around you and know that you could step on them like ants if you saw no use for them, but that’s where you stop being like those who rule the world. you are innovative; you see a purpose for everyone in the future. just like the boy sitting next to you has an importance within the scheme.
you kiss his fingertips.
he curls his hand in an attempt to pull away from you.
you only cling tighter to him when you know that he’s about to leave you. this is when you pull yourself from the chair and coil your hands around his neck. his hands haphazardly sit on your waist and pull you closer, but then he’s releasing you as though he has shown some type of weakness by wanting you close. you smirk and revel in the delight as he flounders underwater right before your eyes. “you are a foolish woman,” he growls as he dips his head to rest his forehead on yours and you lift up to nip at his lips. more than anyone, he knows you; knows how you react and how you are going to react, but he hasn’t figured you out-- he’ll never figure you out.
but you’ll always know how to read him; you’ll know his next move.
to you, his unpredictableness is predictable.
“your sights are too lofty and weigh too much; you’ll end up crushed by them,” he is speaking into your open mouth; they are breathy whispers that should warn you against anything you may end up doing, but you swallow all those warning signs and you press your lips to his again and again. within this feeling, you wish to lose yourself, but this is not comparable to how it’ll feel to force every ounce of love that you’ve poured into him out of his body with bloody knuckles and bruised knees. in order to truly feel despair, you must first know true love.
you’d spend eternities with the boy in your grasp; you want to spend your whole life with him, but you know that’s not to be, so you pull him in and push him back while your hands traverse along the plains of his back, nails dragging through layers of skin as they try to settle. his own fingertips bruise into your hips and you laugh into his mouth as your bodies press flush against one another.
it is so easy to lose yourself within the moment with
it is too easy to turn soft around him.
“i love you, yasuke,” you whine, tugging on strands of his hair. he huffs in irritation as his hands reach to clasp your own and pull away from his hair.
“i love you.” he whispers and when he does, his eyes turn soft and his mouth transforms from a grimace to a pout and your legs ache too much, so you lean up and kiss him again.
you kiss him until you think you are lost in him.
he buries his hands in your hair and runs his fingers through the strawberry blonde strands.
and sometime later, you find yourself with legs intertwined with his underneath the heaviness of downy cotton sheets. your hands are positioned around his neck once again and his are cupping your cheeks. your lips hover against one another’s and his gaze is full of an unspoken love that goes incommunicable between you aside from the smallest moments: like when the sunlight streams through the windows and he’s breathing in synchrony and harmonizing with your sighs. these moments when you find the smallest piece of heaven to steal from the skies and settle into for a share of eternity.
his eyelashes brush against the bare skin of your arm; you shiver.
you sigh; he presses in to kiss you slowly and his hand shifts to tangle in your hair.
if he thinks these moments can make you forget about how you’ll devastate the world, he’s wrong, because he may know amnesia, but his fingertips leave fingerprints that aren’t to be forgotten and instead he burns himself into your memory so that you may provide more fuel to the fire once you are ready. everything here is tangible which makes it destructible.
even him.
even you.
i’ve got a lover
a love like religion
i’m such a fool for sacrifice
he’s coming down, down
coming down.