:: Attempt 23 | Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart (Unedited) ::
'"It's not that simple."
'"It is, though. It is also very selfish. You love him, but you are scared of something bad happening, and you're scared of having something to lose. But we never know what is going to happen, and we always have something to lose. I know you're scared, Lovino. You are scared of taking the risk. But let me tell you something..." Feliciano thought of those few beautiful afternoons with Ludwig, those glorious fleeting hours, the smiles and words and brushes of the hand; of those few stunning, shattering kisses, that all too brief and wonderful declaration under the oak tree. Then he thought of the very real possibility, the probability, that he would never see Ludwig again. That he would lose him, and the pain would be uncontrollable, overwhelming, consuming. And yet... "Some things are worth the risk, after all."'
- "Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart" by George deValier on Fanfiction.net
x + x
"Aoi?"
He rests the back of his hand against the aged wood of the closed bedroom door, shifting the bag higher up his shoulder. There's no response from within, aside from an indistinct shuffling sound and what seems to be a slight sniffle. Basil inclines his head, tapping his knuckles against the wood once again. "Aoi, can't ya' hear me?"
The brunet waits, poised to listen to any kind of movement from the closed room, anything at all, when a muffled thud and a sound which suspiciously resembles a sob meets his ears. He jerks upright, and his hand finds the doorknob within the span of half a minute, wrenching the surprisingly unlocked door open.
He steps inside the room, finding his parabatai lying upon her bed.
It resembles a war zone, to put it lightly; pillows and sheets are scattered across the mattress, several already halfway across the room—one, it appears, has been thrown at an alarmingly spot-on trajectory and hit a small pile of books once placed on the desk, resulting in them toppling to the floor in a haphazard heap. Basil deduces that those were the cause of the first sound he had heard.
But what had caused the second?
He turns his head, opening his mouth to address the redhead, when a particularly evident sniffle leaves her lips, and another fluffy item is catapulted across the room; a round, pudgy pillow of a bright orange hue. (In other cases, he might have recognized it as Aoi's favorite, aptly nicknamed 'Tangerine' with no other particular reason other than the color of its covering.)
"Mierda," she mutters, wiping at her tear-stained cheeks, "¿Por qué? ¿Por qué esto tiene que suceder? [1]" Aoi heaves a breath, her gaze flickering up from her iPad—which the brunet notices that she's been holding onto all this time—and an evident scarlet hue dusts over her pale cheeks. She bolts upright, a cry of horror escaping her lips:
"Why the fuck are you in here?!"
He stops; color leaves his tan skin as he chuckles and instinctively takes a step back. He isn't taking any chances with her currently volatile behavior—not with her face being pale, azure eyes red-rimmed with even more tears spilling down her cheeks and splattering upon her sheets. Aoi glares sharply up at him, an arm cradling her gadget close to her chest, the other reaching for a possible deadly projectile she can catapult at the brunet.
YOU ARE READING
Eyes of Azure | Assassination Classroom
Fanfiction[OFFICIALLY DISCONTINUED AS OF AUGUST 4TH, 2017.] x + x "I promised to be by your side, even if you want me to go." She is no one - and she must be, for nobody must notice a killer before they strike. She is a monster - and she knows that she is one...
