Loveless Me, Loveless You

Frankenstein's Monster

***Angst***

oOoOoOo

Yama left early to head back home and get his things so he'd actually be ready for school. He tried be cool about everything but couldn't help the stupid grin he had glued to his face the entire way home.

He could be happy right? That was fine?

He still felt special even if it wasn't out of romantic love.

It was still special.

oOoOoOo

Yamaguchi wrote poems during class; in the margins of his notebook. Of course, he paid attention, too, but the words just made their way onto the paper. He didn't consider himself a poet in any way, that suggests that he knew what he was doing. He sort of just enjoyed writing about what he felt in the moment; in whatever way it came out.

Yama felt the words floating in his head alongside a desire to order them in a way that made just enough sense. He pulled them down and pasted them onto paper—sort of like word vomit, but prettier.

Like... how birds regurgitate to feed their little babies.

That's what he thought his poems were.

He thought that maybe he should have a separate notebook for poems, but there was something satisfying about seeing them among his notes. And he liked to be surprised by finding them while he was studying.

Plus, it was probably a lame thing to do.

He kept scribbling words on the page, only stoping to read it after he got it all out. He liked to go back and fix things after writing everything down, otherwise he'd lose what he felt he needed to write.

He eyed his work done in black ink,

You...
are a moonlight filled sky
I...
Am the faraway stars
that yearn to be closer

The universe...
moves without us feeling
Without us noticing
But we're somehow, within,
Aware
Of that wonder

Our thoughts,
Within the confines
Of our limited
Yet unlimited existence,
Wander in possibilities.
In the unexpected.

We breathe
And are unsure
But I know
You hold adventure
In that soft glow
That shines
Ahead of me

I want to know what
You are thinking
But I can't—
We are two different
Creatures
Made up from
Different experiences.
...So I can't know

And I want to know...
Maybe more than anything,
...Why is it that
When I look
Into your distant face
I feel as though
I can never look away?

He read it over and over, and smiled. It really was something only for himself. It was sappy, yeah. And maybe he was sappy in general, but he always wrote in pure emotion.

And emotions are always sappy.

oOoOoOo

Yama watched Tsukki during lunch. He seemed to be thinking about something that was lost to the shorter boy. Soft music played from the headphones around Tsukishima's neck, where he could hear it without completely cutting off the rest of the world.