04. I Need To Want You

She stared at herself, in disbelieve and discontentment. Fingering the linen that was draped across the dressing table, she sighed. There felt helpless and crestfallen about the day’s events. As the thoughts and memory of the happenings rushed through her depressed mind, a single tear strode down her pale cheeks.

He kept his gaze on her as she broke down. He didn’t want to care, didn’t want to give a damn. His actions proved otherwise. Everything that happened, it all went beyond his perception of just. How could someone, even up to a certain calibre, stomach this kind of treatment? What ever happened to the likes of a free country, a free man?

He glanced away for a second, countering the feeling of hurt that was veiling his heart. The feeling that made itself present as he watched her try to drown her sorrows.

He pushed the door forward, bringing himself inside the room. He watched silently as her hunched over figure shook uncontrollably, her sobs becoming faster and louder. So much he wanted to comfort her, he wanted her to cancel out the hurt, the anguish that she felt. But he stopped himself. Because he knew that once he did that, he would be emotionally involved, he’d be trapped once again inside that little world that was made up of sadness and sorrow. Unbeknownst to him, he was already in that state.

She tried so hard to fight back the tears, what would’ve happened if he ever heard it. She wanted to be strong, she was doing this for her family, no one else, she had to be strong. She violently rubbed away the tears, forcing herself to live with the life. Technically, it was she who chose this. She was the one who made the decision, and if anyone is to be blamed, it should be her.

As she continued to sob, she felt a delicate hand being placed on her bare shoulder. She didn’t turn back, she knew who it was. Somehow, she didn’t loathe the person. She knew that he was in the same position that she was, he was doing this unwillingly. But a part of her screamed at him. It screamed because she knew him to be a man that stood up for his beliefs. A man that had gone through so much hurt that she knew he wouldn’t want to deal with anything of that sort again. But there he stood, behind her, his left arm snaking around her waist. And that somehow gave her a sense of security, protection.

“Tell me something,” She stumbled between her sobs, “What made you do it?”

Digging his chin onto her soft skin, she felt the hotness of his tears hit her. He was crying. He never cried. Gackt Camui never cried.

“Because at that moment, everything that made sense in the past, didn’t make sense at all. So I agreed. If I haven’t, I knew you’d get hurt, one way or another. I didn’t want this, believe me.”

He detached his face from the soft kiss he left on the back of her neck and spun her around. She refused to meet his eyes, she felt ashamed in front of him, having known what he had to go through to save her life. She felt his thumb caressing her left cheek, drying the tears that seemed to stream down endlessly.

“What do you want me to do now?” She quietly asked. It was as if she was returning a favour of some sort. She felt that she owed her life to him- she did.

A soft smile seem to appear on his face, calming her down a little. That smile, she remembered, had comforted her from her sorrows since she can remember. And right now, that smile belonged to her. And she belonged to him.

That phrase will sound more perfect if they were doing it willingly. Not forced, against their will. They only belonged to each other in terms of matrimony, nothing else. Only on paper was it written that they would be there for each other, in sickness and in health, in joy and and in sorrow, forever, till death do they part. A bunch on inconsiderate lies.

But in a way, he wanted this. He craved this, he craved her. It was just that nothing was making him want her, she wasn’t making him want her. He need to want her, he felt empty and bitter without that feeling, “Make me need to want you. I need to want you.”

And again, unbeknownst to him, that feeling was already there. He needed her. He wanted her.

04. I Need To Want You

She stared at herself, in disbelieve and discontentment. Fingering the linen that was draped across the dressing table, she sighed. There felt helpless and crestfallen about the day’s events. As the thoughts and memory of the happenings rushed through her depressed mind, a single tear strode down her pale cheeks.

He kept his gaze on her as she broke down. He didn’t want to care, didn’t want to give a damn. His actions proved otherwise. Everything that happened, it all went beyond his perception of just. How could someone, even up to a certain calibre, stomach this kind of treatment? What ever happened to the likes of a free country, a free man?

He glanced away for a second, countering the feeling of hurt that was veiling his heart. The feeling that made itself present as he watched her try to drown her sorrows.

He pushed the door forward, bringing himself inside the room. He watched silently as her hunched over figure shook uncontrollably, her sobs becoming faster and louder. So much he wanted to comfort her, he wanted her to cancel out the hurt, the anguish that she felt. But he stopped himself. Because he knew that once he did that, he would be emotionally involved, he’d be trapped once again inside that little world that was made up of sadness and sorrow. Unbeknownst to him, he was already in that state.

She tried so hard to fight back the tears, what would’ve happened if he ever heard it. She wanted to be strong, she was doing this for her family, no one else, she had to be strong. She violently rubbed away the tears, forcing herself to live with the life. Technically, it was she who chose this. She was the one who made the decision, and if anyone is to be blamed, it should be her.

As she continued to sob, she felt a delicate hand being placed on her bare shoulder. She didn’t turn back, she knew who it was. Somehow, she didn’t loathe the person. She knew that he was in the same position that she was, he was doing this unwillingly. But a part of her screamed at him. It screamed because she knew him to be a man that stood up for his beliefs. A man that had gone through so much hurt that she knew he wouldn’t want to deal with anything of that sort again. But there he stood, behind her, his left arm snaking around her waist. And that somehow gave her a sense of security, protection.

“Tell me something,” She stumbled between her sobs, “What made you do it?”

Digging his chin onto her soft skin, she felt the hotness of his tears hit her. He was crying. He never cried. Gackt Camui never cried.

“Because at that moment, everything that made sense in the past, didn’t make sense at all. So I agreed. If I haven’t, I knew you’d get hurt, one way or another. I didn’t want this, believe me.”

He detached his face from the soft kiss he left on the back of her neck and spun her around. She refused to meet his eyes, she felt ashamed in front of him, having known what he had to go through to save her life. She felt his thumb caressing her left cheek, drying the tears that seemed to stream down endlessly.

“What do you want me to do now?” She quietly asked. It was as if she was returning a favour of some sort. She felt that she owed her life to him- she did.

A soft smile seem to appear on his face, calming her down a little. That smile, she remembered, had comforted her from her sorrows since she can remember. And right now, that smile belonged to her. And she belonged to him.

That phrase will sound more perfect if they were doing it willingly. Not forced, against their will. They only belonged to each other in terms of matrimony, nothing else. Only on paper was it written that they would be there for each other, in sickness and in health, in joy and and in sorrow, forever, till death do they part. A bunch on inconsiderate lies.

But in a way, he wanted this. He craved this, he craved her. It was just that nothing was making him want her, she wasn’t making him want her. He need to want her, he felt empty and bitter without that feeling, “Make me need to want you. I need to want you.”

And again, unbeknownst to him, that feeling was already there. He needed her. He wanted her.