Three boxes of Marlboro menthol and a bottle of vodka were ornamenting the coffee table where I put my legs above it carelessly. I don’t give a damn if I kick out one of that stuff and I don’t even care what the TV displaying of. I have something more important to settle up than worrying what my legs will cause.

Never once I have this goddamn confusing complication on my head. Not until forty seven minutes ago when I stood to hear you mumbling my name. Your unconscious state was capable to glue my legs then froze me like a shocking statue. I was speechless.

Aoi…. Daisuki da yo.

Those words were echoing over and over again through my ear like unstoppable bullet. It lodged on my sense. My brain is numb and I act like a dumb; inhaling Marlboro and sipping vodka, inhaling envious and sipping confuse. Inhaling and sipping, inhaling and sipping, again and again till I wander when this will stop.

What a bullet you use to shoot me, Uruha?

I’m dying. I’m dying for an answer of whether I decide to be an angel or a devil; To be an angel to forget this envious toward you and smile as I offer you a hand to hold, or become a devil to pretend like I love you and slice your heart into pieces then laugh in victory as you cry a red tear.

Oh Uruha.. Adorable Uruha, poor you!

After a sickness of your skilled fingers, your music ability, your beauty appearance, your nice attitude; it’s a great time to have a tasteful revenge, I may choose the second choice. Become a devil; where I give you pseudo kiss and fake lovey-dovey action then –when you fly high to seven heaven because my heart on your hand which is only your wish- I will paint you a bluish pain on your heart and tore it apart mercilessly.

Maybe I could be an angel. But that’s hard to do after this whole indescribable feeling on me. I can’t be an angel, I’m incapable to be an angel, and I never am an angel. The white circle above head is yours, not mine.

Yes, you are an angel.

…..And I don’t have a heart to rip your cotton like wings.

Maybe we could let every thing where it should; let’s stay the same.

Let’s dying each other with what we have. You with your love, and I with my envious. Let’s fight this torturing sense and let’s see who the great defender is.  Afterward, if you’re still keep your love for me until this envious is dead and perished, until a desire to try is crawling, until there is nothing left but a wish to understand you, definitely;

 I will come to you, Uruha.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Eight months after Uruha’s indirect confession incident, The Gazette was trapped in a tight –nameless liberty and six guns- tour schedule. During those times, Aoi kept on wandering and observing the blond guitarist. Sometimes Aoi will find Uruha staring at him, sometimes he will notice Uruha’s sweet smile when he play his guitar either on backstage or at Hotel room, sometimes he will have Uruha walking on his side, sometimes he will get Uruha sitting next to him in bus, sometimes he will play guitar with Uruha willingly, sometimes he will enjoy the companion of Uruha to coffee shop unconsciously, sometimes Aoi wanderings if Uruha had ever aware of his envious toward him. And Aoi should've known better, he should, really. What with all those people say about there's only a thin line between love and hate. Or in his case, perhaps, it's more close to lust and hate.

Until it comes to this day, this fateful day, that, god, he couldn't tell if this is just saying more about his ed up mind or how hierarchy of the universe just seem to categorize its occupants based on their worthiness all too well, but Aoi found himself hesitantly crack a single smile as an answer to the fleeting one Uruha threw across the stage during ‘Taion’.

...And it all ended too well. Entirely too elaborate like some sort of cosmic power has arranged it to fall perfectly into place just like that. When at the end of the show Uruha came up to him. Still with that innocent gentle smile, still with that open shy gesture, still with the childlike merriment dancing within his eyes; kissed Aoi softly right next to his ear shell …. Whisper in a delicate manner. All pronunciation clear and unhesitant...
 

“Thanks for the envy. It brighten my days”

~~*~~*~~*~~OWARI~~*~~*~~*~~

I would like to thank Livrin at LJ for helped me a bit with this fic. Xposted to acu_saree at LJ.