Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Driblets and Other Such Tales ❯ Crazy Baby ( Chapter 3 )

Crazy Baby

Written by: Skyyler Kaori

 

-oOsSsOo-

 

//And your hands are really shakin' somethin' awful
As you light your twenty-seventh cigarette
Oh, how long have you been sittin' in the darkness
You forget...//

The darkness was consuming, deafening, suffocating. He glanced up, jade eyes darkened with some indiscernible emotion, and watched in stunned silence as the door to his bedroom slammed shut with enough force to shake the frame to which it was attached. He winced slightly and reached out to flip up the volume on the small radio next to his bed. Quiet music filled his ears, the nameless tune hitting too close to home then he would have liked. He brushed a calloused, trembling hand through messy chestnut hair; the other holding onto an unlit cigarette that he'd just extracted from its box. He bit out a sardonic laugh and drew up the sheets to wrap them protectively around his partially nude form.

 

//Oh, you know you're gettin' really hard to be with
And you're cryin' every time you turn around
And you wonder why you cannot pick your head up
Off the ground...//

“Yeah I am, aren't I?” He murmured darkly. Lighting the cigarette he placed it between his lips and sucked in a long breath, the claming mixture of nicotine and smoke doing little to calm his chattering nerves. He cursed sharply, brushing his knuckles across his eyes and scowling into the inky blackness around him. “Fuck.” The salty reminder of his life slowly traveled down the contours of his face, unbidden and unwanted. It wasn't so rare anymore that he cried. He was slowly loosing the small bit of sanity he had left, and the one person that provided his pillar of strength was slowly but surely loosing patience with him.

 

//Oh, my crazy baby
Try to hold on tight
Oh, my crazy baby
Don't put out the light...
The light, the light, the light//

Cursing again he took another pull from the cigarette, flicking the ashes onto the unforgiving wooden boards that lined his bedroom floor. Unable to turn off the radio he listened in morbid fascination as the woman's voice seemed to spell out what his soul felt every day.

 

//And they look at you like they don't speak your language
And you're living at the bottom of a well
And you've swallowed all the awful bloody secrets
But you can't tell...//

He let his head drop forward, disheveled locks of chestnut hiding the haunted look that lingered in bloodshot eyes. He watched blankly as his cigarette burned down to the filter before stubbing it out and lighting another one. He'd lost track of how many he smoked in a day and didn't really care. Cancer wouldn't be the cause of his death anyway. He let his eyes drift to the bare expanse of his arm, studying the various scars that criss-crossed his skin, pale against tanned flesh. There was a time when each scar held significance, but now they all ran together in a surreal blur of blood and death. “Shit…” He became so fascinated with the study of his grizzly past that he failed to notice the quiet click of his door opening and closing.

 

//Oh, you know you ought to get yourself together
But you cannot bear to walk outside your door
No, you cannot bear to look into the mirror
Anymore...//

“Yohji.”

The brunet started and glanced up sharply, green eyes clashing with icy violet.

The stone-like gaze softened somewhat and Ran slowly made his way across the room, deep red hair shifting to various shades of burgundy as the shadows darkened. He settled himself next to the other man and glanced down at the pile of ashes and cigarette stubs pilling at his feet. “What are you listening to?”

“I dunno.”

Silence passed between the pair before Ran spoke again. “I'm sorry.”

The jade-eyed man snorted. “For what? Being honest?”

“Look…”

“It's true. I'm fucking pathetic. I'm such a pitiful excuse for a human being…”

“I didn't say that.”

“You may as well have. I'm loosing my mind Ran, and I don't care anymore.”

 

//And your hands are really shakin' somethin' awful
As your worries climb around inside your clothes
Oh, how long will you be sittin' in the darkness
Heaven knows...//

 

The redhead sighed and pulled the cancer stick from Yohji's fingers, taking a pull on it himself before stubbing it out in a nearby ashtray.

One mocha eyebrow rose in surprise. “You're shaking.”

“I hate fighting with you.”

“So then why do you do it?”

“Because you make me crazy. You act as if your very clothing is going to devour you whole. I can't handle it, you make me nervous.”

“So then why stay with me?”

“Because I'm addicted to you.”

“You know, I think I'd have died a long time ago if you weren't….”

 

Fin

 

-oOsSsOo-

 

Disclaimer: Weiß and all characters therein belong to Project Weiß and Koyasu Takehito and the song “Crazy Baby” belongs to the one and only Joan Osborne.

 

Author's Note: Uhm…it's about 3:30am so please excuse any grammar and/or spelling errors. Anyway, I was listening to Joan Osborne and her song Crazy Baby came on. It struck me as being the perfect song for Yohji, so I wrote a fic to accompany it. I hope everyone enjoyed this little snippet of randomness. Hey, maybe if I get enough reviews I'll go find songs and make fics for the other Weiß kitties. Guess that depends on you, the readers. Remember, neglect is a crime, so don't wrong your review button.