Homework for english class. Our second essay. We were suppose to write about how we feel about when it rains or how we feel when we’re in our favorite place in the house and of course, me, not fully understanding the directions wrote an anynomus akame fic. I only used thier names once and just put in the part where kazuya says “Jin” to make it more clear, if it’s clear… but anyway I haven’t written anything in a while and not written anything akame in a long while so here goes.
I also started with “Gentle Fingers” again. Sorry, I can’t help it. >.< There’s another fic akame fic I have that starts “Tender Fingers” XD It’s called [Ahh-toka, Uhh-toka]. I asked my friend to write the yaoi parts of it ’cause I don’t write yaoi yet. I don’t know when she’s gonna be finished with it.
I sooooooo failed the essay XD. I wasn’t suppose to use it in the second person and it was suppose to be about me…
Anyway as always hope you like it =3.
[With the Rain Comes Memories of a Forbidden Love]
ｍｉｄｅｖｉｌｍｉｎｄ
Gentle fingers follow sliding raindrops along the frigid plastic. You sigh getting up from the metal bench and walk to the edge of the bus station’s waiting area. You walk close enough to feel the cold drops spray on your face but stay under the plastic ceiling because you don’t have an umbrella. There was a light drizzle when you left home but you thought nothing of it and headed out. Regretting not listening to your mother, you sigh a very visible sigh. Then looking up, you wish the hiding sun would show it’s self already. Your world is full of gray and right now, a little yellow seemed nice.
SHEEESSSHHH SSSSHHHHEEEESSSHHHH It’s already late into springtime but with this freezing rain it feels closer to autumn or even winter. Thank goodness you decided to wear your wear your long black leather coat but either way it didn’t make much difference. It was still cold. You sigh again but this time not from despair but to warm up your glove-covered hands. The rain doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon and on a whim—almost automatic— your left hand stretches out trying to touch a rain drop. For the first few seconds the droplets avoid your hand, scared to meet the white glove but soon after they seem to flock to it. Clear drops soak through the soft fabric until they reach the pale peach skin underneath and as mechanical as before you thrust your hand back under the protection of the bus station stop. It feels gross, liquid on wool. Liquid on any type of fabric really. To you it feels gross like when you get up with morning breathe or when you don’t take a shower and…and when it rains. When it rains you feel gross too.
‘Kazu-chan you’re so weird!’ You flinch at the memory. Right now he wasn’t the person you wanted to see much less to think about. That’s what he said once, when you got drenched in cold water at the graduation festival and immediately hurried to the locker room to change. You replied saying it a normal reaction—which it was in that kind of situation—but you also thought it was a strange reaction since no body else went to change.
Breathing in deeply, you try to forget about him but along with the damp coldness and stale water comes the smell of strawberry vanilla that he loved so much and at that very moment you decide it’s time to buy a different type of shampoo the next time you go shopping. You’ve never noticed your own smell but he has and he’s often commented on it, saying he liked it, that it reminded him of his favorite desert. Your lips curl up but the expression on your face is defiantly not one of joy.
You take another deep breathe but this time…this time the smell overwhelms your senses. Your knees go weak and you have to grip on to the side wall to even stay up right. One long sigh brings color to your face making it glow a vivid red. It smells like him! It smells like him and just like the weeping sky your eyes rain.
His scent consumes you, filling you up inside and warming you, making your heart melt. You can almost feel him. You can feel his large hands exploring your body and going places he’d never go—except in your dreams and unfortunately only in your dreams. And just like your dreams you can taste him—not that you’ve ever actually tasted him and…and not that you’d ever get the chance to taste him but you can. But still you can taste him. You can taste the sweet red bean buns he always eats in the mornings; you can taste the sugar-filled melon bread he can’t get enough of in the evenings yet most of all you can him. Sweet and sour, loveable but despicable, adorable yet sickening and everything in between and you can’t imagine anything else, can’t think of anything other then your idiot of a crush that isn’t yours and most likely will in no way be yours.
“Jin…” You breathe out.
It’s cruel…it’s cruel being so close and not be able to go any closer, to go any further. It’s too cruel…
SHHEEESSHHHH SHHHEEESSSHHH SSSHHHEEESSSHHH Streams of tears turn into light sobs and like the high sky tears rain down your face.
He’s already got a girlfriend,
Maybe it’s time you got one too…
[ＥＮＤ]
It’s short =3
