For You

For You

Warnings: Songfic, Yaoi (Shonen-ai), Suicide

Disclaimer: Not Mine, Song is ‘For You’ By Smile Empty Soul

Lyrics: //…\

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//I waited for you, I died inside my own head for you, and I’d die again for you.\

Ryou sat against his headboard, staring down at a rather poorly taken picture. To all others, it was probably highly frightening, the look on Bakura’s face, a grim smirk and look of malice. Then again, it was the only facial expression Bakura made that was ever close to a smile. It was taken two weeks ago, Bakura had just finished his plans for humiliating the Pharaoh….then again, Bakura’s plans never worked out..

//I’m faded and tired, completely uninspired and I’d die again for you.\

That was the same day his Yami told him he was in love with the Egyptian pair, Malik and Marik. Any time he seen them now, the look that had always occupied his Yami’s face when looking at Ryou, was on Ryou’s own face. The disgust, anger, hate…

//So kill me with the love that you won’t give to me.\

Maybe he’d asked too much. Giving up your virginity these days wasn’t a great honor anymore. It had been to him though, he’d never been with anyone until the stupid night. Ryou shook his head, tears falls onto the picture in his hands, he was so stupid that night.

//And pack the wound with the salt, I want to feel it bleed.\

Bakura had been so kind and gentle that night. Had he told anyone that, they’d have probably laughed in his face; but the truth was, Bakura DID have a kind side, one that Ryou thought was only for him. He was sadly mistaken. The memories of that night...were only salt in the wound now.

//I’m searching for reasons to keep away the demons, and I‘d die again for you.\

Now he was alone, and all because he’d uttered three little words that had made his Yami say so many things. So many things that’d broken his heart and made him bleed. Now he was haunted by nightmares of a time when it was just him and Bakura. Just the two of them, doing stupidly simple things, of Ryou stealing glances and occasional collisions with his look-a-like…just to touch him. Even if it meant being called a klutz..

//I was you were near me, could feel it when you here me say I’d die again for you.\

But as those nights died, as Bakura spent time further away from home, their home, and with Marik and Malik…he died. Slowly and unbearably. Settling the picture frame face down on the bedspread, he gently removed the backing and stared down at the small silver blade beneath it.

//So kill me with the love that you won’t give to me.\

The blade he’d kept for two weeks, two weeks in which he’d carved line upon line over the name in his forearm. How many times had he been tempted to just spill his blood over the comforter. Almost too many times to count.

//And pack the wound with salt, I want to feel it bleed.\

Gently the blade pressed along the ‘K’ in his forearm, drawing a hair-thin line along the pale skin. No matter how many times he did this, no matter how many lines littered his skin, Bakura would never know how much he’d hurt him, not until Ryou was cold and dead.

//You wanted me to crawl, so now I’m on my knees.\

Sitting upwards, he looked down at the few drops that landed on the back of the picture. Slowly he turned it around, immediately watching a drop of blood mar the face in the picture.

//Why’s it always have to be me that’s always left out to burn, I’ll never learn.\

Tears mixed with the crimson liquid and he lowered his head. It was all for him, all for Bakura. His pain and anguish, love and hate, tears and blood.

//So kill me with the love you won’t give to me and pack the wound with salt, I want to feel it bleed.\

The blade sunk deeper this time, Ryou didn’t even realize what he was doing until the blood soaked through the knees of his jeans and he could feel the heat running down his ankles. A trembling sigh left his lips and he pulled himself to his feet, marred wrist held to his chest, picture clutched to his side. The blade lay against the floor and he slowly stood, dizzily after a moment, then fell to his knees and moved to lean against the corner of the room. The corner he hid in whenever his Yami’s anger got too much, or when he hurt too bad.

//You wanted me to crawl, now I’m on my knees.\

His breathing grew ragged and his fingers lifted, smearing small letters along the white wall beside him. Eyesight fading in and out, he let his hand fall, lips parting in small words, “For you, My love.”

-End-

SB: Sorry I wrote that, but it's been biting at the back of my mind for abit too long, Gomen nasai, everyone, don't hate me u.u; It was just as hard to write as it is to read (hopefully)