ficlets100 - number seven.
001. Guilt
002. New
003.Solitude
004. Content
005. Tale
006. Distort
007. Luxury
008. Listen
009. Party
010. Scent
011. Storm
012. Lessons
013.Apology
014. Relief
015. Breeze
016.Fading
017. Passion
018. Stay
019.Rain
020. Within
021.Dread
022.Revenge
023.Time
024.Perfect
025.Eyes
026.Bloom
027.Beginning
028. Bath
029. Object
030. Lost
031.Pride
032. Death
033 ( Read more... )
He hates the fact that he has to breath; he hates that he looks at the world through purple glass; he hates that Nunnally tries and tries to call him 'Suzaku,' will sometimes cry and cry when he doesn't respond to that; he hates that his ribs expand and contract, that his heart beats, that the world is working itself into order and people still die; he hates that he has to sleep, that he has to dream of pink and black; he hates that he can cry, that he has to do this, that he'll always be forced to take a step back off any ledge.
Sometimes, he loves.
He loves that he's snapped in two; he loves that Nunnally will cry and his soul will break all over again; he loves that he can save, that he can do, that it feels like his teeth will chip with how hard he locks his jaw; he loves the feel of coarse, cold, old cat fur and the feel of one, two, three burials of close friends; he loves that he's only called 'Zero,' the one who killed his real love, and that he still ends up feeling knotted and constricted and unable to breath when people do it; he loves that he's finally getting what he deserved.
But between the love and the hate, he can only live -- and he has no words on how he feels about that.
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