cupido | sinbad

[1]

IDON'TKNOWWHAT'SWRONGWITHMEHARHARHAR

Anyways...

this may contain 'Spoilers' for the snb manga, just to warn anyone who hasn't read it!

Warning: ANGST (or my sorry attempt a it) cuz why not am i rite ;D this may seem a bit rushed, but i was so eager to get this out, forgive me! (btw the song is the total theme of this story)

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The ruby ring on his finger glistened from the light of the moon. Its gleam was so vibrant , it could put even the brightest of gold to shame, and he has seen quite the abundance of gold throughout his adventures.

Now, he didn't like to consider himself too much of a materialistic person; he had grown up with so little and had been humbled to not desire such things much, and still wasn't quite used to the much more exuberant lifestyle he now lived to this day. But he wouldn't lie, he did have a thing for fine jewelry. Jewelry to him was like candy to a child.

He had always found it amazing how gems could highlight one's aura; it was as if they were a symbol of fortune, of luxury. Never having to worry about not having food on the table, or not having the proper clothing, or not having to face the poverty and suffering most of the lower-class commoners did. 

Then all of a sudden, flashes of many different faces, people of the small, poor village of Tison materialized in his brain. Memories played through, and he felt a pang of guilt form in his chest.

Those were the people he had left behind- for the sake of his dream to change the world. And to reach that seemingly unattainable dream, he knew—he hated— that he had to dirty his hands, and not just in a literal sense. With all the strife, the sweat, the tears, the guilt, the sacrifices. All of the blood that was shed, the blood he carried on his hands was all for his dream.

For his dream.

 That was would he would constantly tell himself at night when the nightmares would reign in his head and the voices became too loud again. For his dream. 

His mother's golden eyes looking at him, wide and with plead and sorrow burning inside the irises. The words that fell from her soft, pale lips were silent; yet they were always the loudest to him-

"Why did you leave me?"

For his dream.

Tiny, dirty hands clung to his clothes. A small child looked up at him, the soft smile a stark contrast to the blood and the grime and the soulless eyes that stared deeply into his own. Shadows in the form of other children appeared all around him. He could never quite see them clearly, but he didn't have to. Their words were always the same.

"Why did you let us die?"

For his dream.

Those large, tearful [E/C] eyes would look at him with such disgust and anger, as if he done such a dirty deed that being in his mere presence was enough for her to fall ill ; and he would reach out to touch her only to have his heart crushed into tiny little pieces as she flinched and pulled away.

It would be the same word he's heard before. But this time, it felt different and hurt worse coming from her lips.

"Why?"

For his dream. For his dream.  For his dream. For his dream. For his dream.  For his dream. For his dream. For their dream, for her dream, for your dream, for my dream-