Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ How to Save a Life ❯ How It Will Be: Now ( Chapter 12 )

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Once more I'll say goodbye to you.

-- (Bullet for my Valentine) All These Things I Hate

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It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Walking out on him, I mean. And when he was sleeping, too - unable to know that when he awoke after the amazing evening we shared, I would no longer be with him. I felt sick as I taped the note to the door, fearing the scenario was too similar to my own abandonment, afraid that, after finding it, he might come to view all of my actions and words as forms of revenge against him.

 

I almost lost my nerve when I returned to the bedroom for my sweater, for he was still soundly sleeping, looking so innocent and hugging the pillow that had previously been supporting my head. I approached him and kissed his forehead, brushing his hair out of his closed eyes and whispering how much I would always love him.

 

Then I turned my back on him and the life we could have built together.

 

I took the coward's way out and ran away - far away, to the safety of my apartment where I drowned my sorrows in a bottle of cheap red wine and contemplated suicide.

 

That same night I took a handful of Advil to subdue my pounding headache and returned to Room21, where the stage and my wealthy, hungry customers waited for me. I felt even more ashamed of myself than usual as I allowed the cheering inebriated men to grope me as I passed by, feel me up, and slip money into the narrow slits of my costume.

 

My head was a whirlwind of thoughts coupled with the pain of a hangover. I felt sick to my stomach. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't release my legs from around the metal pole, pulsating with the club's hypnotic music and I couldn't stop a middle-aged man from grabbing my ass and suggesting I suck his cock. I couldn't stop Garrett from appearing at my changing room, inviting himself into my room, backing me up against the wall, kissing me, petting me, undressing me, or sliding an hour's worth of payment into my hand.

 

“I missed you,” he breathed into the dancer's ear.

 

“I'm not working tonight,” Ryou told him, returning the notes. “It's my night off.”

 

Garrett made a whining sound in the back of his throat. Pressing closer to the whitenette, he buried his face in the slender neck and exhaled heavily. His warm breath ghosted over the snowy flesh. Ryou didn't even blink, his expression unreadable to the red-haired man.

 

“It's my night off,” Ryou stated once again, unflinching as Garrett squeezed his arms painfully.

 

“Ryou,” Garrett pleaded, “you don't understand. I need you. Now. I'll... I'll pay double to have you tonight!”

 

Ryou appeared far from flattered by the offer. In fact, his prior nausea returned and he clamped a hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

 

I'm not an object... I'm not an object. I'm a person... I am... I need love... that's what I want. That's all.

 

The years of false love, the superficial evenings spent with customers were suddenly looked upon by Ryou with disgust and contempt. He hated it, hated himself for succumbing to it. Sure, it provided a temporary release but it could never make up for what he lacked in his real life.

 

“I love you... I love you - oh, Goddamn, Ryou I LOVE YOU!”

 

The whitenette asked for Garrett to leave. “It's my night off... Please go home.”

 

Garrett stood, shocked, staring at Ryou with disbelieving emerald eyes.

 

Ryou clenched his fists at his side. “Go! Your fiancé is waiting for you, I'm sure!”

 

Once the redhead finally exited, the prostitute sunk to his knees and began to cry. He couldn't take this constant degradation any longer. He just to be with the one he loved, forever and ever. Why did he take the hardest route? Why did he leave Malik - leave him with Garrett, who sought refuge in strip clubs and so obviously did not love him as much as Ryou.

 

“Malik... Malik...”

 

“...Malik...”

 

“I want you to make love to me, Ryou.”

 

“W-what?!”

 

Malik stared at the pale beauty above him, lavender eyes half-lidded and filled with passion. Their sweat mingled, their chests rose and fell in unison as they breathed together. For once, Ryou seemed unsure of himself, and he couldn't think of a reason why. He was used to sex... the motions were something that came natural to him now, and he always pleased his customers.

 

But he felt afraid, nervous. Malik was not a customer - not a random stranger looking for a good time. He was not paying for his company. He was not Garrett, he was not Xander. He loved Ryou and Ryou loved him in return - so, so much.

 

A pair of warm, dark arms encircled the petite waist of the doe-eyed twenty-seven-year-old. Ryou hesitated a moment before leaning down and brushing his lips against Malik's own, kissing him softly and affectionately.

 

“... Are you sure?”

 

Malik nodded and kissed the other male as a form of reassurance. “You've done it before with me,” he pointed out with a lopsided grin. “You're the only one I've ever let...” His voice trailed off and he stared into Ryou's eyes meaningfully before repeating his initial request.

 

Ryou felt the tears leave his eyes as they became one again after so long.

 

“I love you so much...”

 

“I know you do, baby, I know. I love you too, and now I'll... we'll always have each other. We'll be together from now on.”

 

Ryou's brown eyes widened, but he remained silent. The image of Garrett's face refused to leave him and he cried at the unfairness of it all, knowing fully well of the decision he would have to make...

 

 

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Torn apart at the seams and my dreams turn to tears

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The door to the apartment swung closed at nearly one-thirty in the afternoon. Ryou jerked out of his half-asleep state, wearily blinking his hazy chocolate brown orbs, squinting to block out the sunlight that filled the room. A groan slipped passed his lips as he observed his surroundings, realizing that he was still in the lavatory. Raising an arm from the now-cold water he examined the unattractive wrinkles that shriveled his skin and a tiny smile appeared on his face.

 

“…ou?”

 

Lifting his head, Ryou recognized the sound of feet thumping against the wooden floor, the noise becoming more and more apparent. The voice came closer.

 

“Ryou?!”

 

A pounding on the bathroom door... The jiggling of the handle... Ryou held a hand to his forehead, moaning in pain and shifting his body in the tub. Water came dangerously close to sloshing over the rim. After a moment or so the door opened to reveal a frantic Xander.

 

“Ryou!” he cried, vision flying over to the tub. Blue eyes widened slightly as they spotted the slumped figure in the bath. Raising his voice to a yell, he demanded to know, “what are you doing?”

 

Ryou whined at the volume. “Don't be so loud,” he complained, and Xander noticed the nearly-empty bottle overturned by the lip of the tub. “...Trying to sleep.”

 

Xander let out a breath in frustration. “You haven't answered your phone for two days straight. I've been worried sick about you! I-I thought something might have happened - someone might have taken you, hurt you - and here you've been, inebriating yourself.”

 

Ryou looked away, unable to meet the condescending gaze Xander sent him. He felt like such a disappointment to the other man. A flush of shame stained his cheeks as a hiccup escaped him. Lowering himself in the water, he mumbled an apology.

 

Xander shook his head, sighed once more, and removed a towel from the rack. “Let's just get you out of here before you drown...”

 

The whitenette cooperated with the gentle tug on his arm, slowly bringing himself to his feet. The cool water dripped down his legs and passive mocha orbs watched as Xander removed the plug and the water slowly began to drain away.

 

“Its winter... you shouldn't be staying in the bath until the water's cold. You'll get sick,” Xander explained as he padded the pale skin lightly before draping the towel around Ryou's shivering, knobby shoulders.

 

Ryou nodded absently, feeling much like a child being scolded by his father. A soft gasp escaped him as Xander swept his knees out from under his body, hoisting him into his arms. The white-haired young man blushed and looked at his friend questioningly. Xander just smiled.

 

“You're in no condition to be walking. I'll just carry you... Then I'll help you dress, and we should probably have a talk. You went to go see Malik, didn't you?”

 

Ryou's brown eyes widened skeptically and Xander knew it was the truth. The blonde-haired man toed open the door to Ryou's small bedroom, setting the smaller male on the unmade bed once he reached the ledge of it. Ryou sat, still appearing dumbfounded. The towel hung loosely around him, clinging to his otherwise naked and damp body, and Xander couldn't help but hate all the other men who were privileged enough to touch the soft white skin; they didn't know how lucky they were, those undeserving bastards... they could never truly appreciate the full extent of Ryou's beauty like Xander could.

 

The younger man's voice came out in a whisper. “I'm sorry...” Xander tore his eyes away from the angelic body to lock gazes with Ryou. The prostitute continued in a slow, sorrowful tone. “I was weak, and he was right there... and I wanted him so much. If only for just one night, I... I wanted to be with him, to have him love me, to pretend... to pretend I'd be with him forever.” Shakily he grasped on to Xander's large hand. “He's engaged,” he confided in his friend, his sentences becoming rambled and less coherent, “and I still... I-I'm a horrible person. I deserve to be alone.”

 

“Relax,” Xander soothed, dropping his voice to a more comforting tone. “You're not a horrible person. You're just confused, that's all. You have a lot going on in that pretty little head of yours. Cupping Ryou's chin, he tilted the younger's face upwards. Ryou's eyes were unfocused. Xander leaned forward and placed a kiss to the petal-pink lips. “And you're not alone. I'm here with you, and I won't ever leave you.”

 

“Everyone leaves me,” Ryou said hollowly.

 

The older man tightened his clutch on Ryou's chin, his fingers pressing into the round, rose-tinted cheeks. “I'll die before I leave you.” Relaxing his grip, he brought his hand up to weave through the silken white locks, still soaked with bathwater. The strands clung to his fingers, becoming knotted around slim digits. Ryou cooed softly under the touch.

 

“... I don't want to think anymore,” he breathed, going back to Xander's earlier comment of the many hectic things going on in his mind. “I just want it all to go away...” Slowly he leaned back until he connected with the mattress.

 

“I know.” Picking up on his study of Ryou's body, Xander's ice blue eyes roamed over the slender figure. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder all the places where Malik had touched the fragile whitenette.

 

He could see various red spots, but where they left over from Malik or a customer?

 

Xander moved to sit beside the young man, his hand never ceasing to fiddle with the silver-white locks. “I know. Rest now.”

 

Ryou's chocolate eyes closed slowly, his breath evening out. Xander smiled wryly and watched over him as he slept.

 

 

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Wear your heart on your sleeve, make things hard to believe

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“... Did you have company last night?”

 

Malik blinked lazily and raised his tired lavender orbs in the direction of the one who had addressed him. Garrett stood in the doorway of the sitting room, his arms crossed over his chest and one fire-red eyebrow perfectly arched in inquiry. The Egyptian male's focus flickered briefly to the ring glistening proudly on the pale man's left hand before he returned his gaze back to the magazine he had been reading prior to the interruption.

 

“Last night?” he repeated, pretending to think on it. The last thing he wanted to think about at the moment was the previous evening. He still had not come to terms with the fact that Ryou left him - for good this time. After their beautiful, unforgettable night of lovemaking, he'd had to wake up to an empty bed.

 

Now he knew how Ryou must have felt all those years ago... finding just a note...

 

The letter pleaded for him to not be resentful, but still Malik couldn't help the bitter anger that welled inside of his heart whenever the words crossed his mind. Despite his attempts to convince the Egyptian otherwise, Malik guessed that part of the reason Ryou left secretly was out of spite. He wanted Malik to know that hurt, Malik knew he did.

 

But at the same time... Ryou was not that sort of person. He never acted upon grudges; he was not cruel enough to do so. He would not up and leave after such a night of passion in order to extract revenge. No... Ryou was only doing what his morals told him - wasn't that what the whitenette always did?

 

Malik sighed. Ryou is so pure, he thought, sadly. Even now, after all these years... He's never been corrupted. He's not a sinner like me. Even though he shouldn't care about Garrett, he won't even let me cheat on my own fiancé.

 

Forget about me and marry Garrett and have a happy life together.

 

The words refused to leave his mind. He only snapped back to attention when he felt the mattress shift - Garrett's emerald orbs boring holes in his head. Malik met his gaze evenly, not the least bit intimidated by the other male.

 

“No,” he stated monotonously. “I didn't have company.”

 

Garrett's eyes narrowed a fraction. For a moment he said nothing, only continued to study his fiancé's handsomely bronzed face, searching for a hint of dishonesty.

 

Malik's nostrils flared.

 

A spark of triumph lit up Garrett's countenance as he found what he sought. Typically, Malik was a very good liar; but when he was uneasy about the fib he was telling, or there was a deep desire inside of him to tell the truth when instead he told a lie, his nostrils briefly flared.

 

“Your nostrils are flaring,” he pointed out.

 

Malik brought a hand to his nose, touching it experimentally with his thumb and index finger. “They are not,” he disagreed.

 

“They were. You're lying to me.”

 

Malik appeared offended by this accusation. Leaning away from the redhead, he shook his head quickly. “What the Hell? Why would I be lying to you?” he demanded to know.

 

Garrett rolled his eyes. “Gee, I don't know, to cover your ass, maybe?” He removed something from his left pocket, handling it carefully, and revealed it to his fiancé.

 

A thin silver wristlet rested comfortably in the palm of his hand, a circular charm bearing a capitalized cursive letter `R' dangling against his thumb. Malik blinked his lavender eyes, studying it curiously although he instantly recognized who it belonged to. Where had Ryou left it behind? More importantly, how could he have forgotten it? Did he leave it intentionally, hoping Garrett would find it?

 

“I found this on the floor,” Garrett explained in a cool voice, “next to our bed. It was lying underneath a white tank top.”

 

Malik recalled the white shirt on the foot of the bed and knew it also belonged to Ryou. He'd made a vow to hide it after washing the bed sheets, but it seemed as if he'd forgotten to do so. “Your point?” he demanded, keeping his tone lackadaisical and turning the page of the magazine once again.

 

“My point is that you're a liar. There was someone here last night. Tell me who.”

 

“What does it matter?”

 

“It matters because I want to know.”

 

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Malik slapped the magazine down on the coffee table. “Just a friend from high school.”

 

“Just a friend, huh?” Garrett quoted, snorting afterwards. “And what need did this `friend' of yours have to remove his shirt?”

 

Malik rose from the sofa, smoothing out the creases in his shirt and brushing aside thoughts of his and Ryou's activities the night before. “I don't have time for your jealousy, Garrett. Nothing happened. Just forget about it.”

 

“For get about --?”

 

“—I'm late for work,” Malik said, curtly. “Excuse me.”

 

Garrett watched him as he exited the room and headed towards the foyer. “Wait,” he called after him.

 

Malik turned to face his fiancé, his expression relaying his boredom with the current conversation. Garrett's face fell as he studied his lover, noticing the rigidity of his stance and the tightly clenched fists and the set jaw and the tears in his eyes that refused to fall.

 

“Did you ever have anyone else...?”

 

The Egyptian male blinked, glancing down at Garrett curiously. The two were sprawled luxuriously across his bed, their limbs entangled and the gold sheets covering their nakedness.

 

Tilting his head to the side, Malik repeated, “anyone else...?”

 

“Before me,” Garrett clarified, “was there anyone else that you... that you were in love with?”

 

He wanted the answer to be `no', but he knew that wasn't likely. Malik's eyes told volumes of a lost love - a love that was either unrequited or that he terminated himself - a love that never disappeared from his mind, even after a many-year separation.

 

This... this was not a subject they touched on often. Malik avoided the subject of love like the plague, skittering away whenever it was brought up. Now was no different than any of the other times, as Garrett could feel the hard body tensing up next to him.

 

The redhead sighed; he hated to bring up painful memories, but he just wanted his lover to be honest with him. Malik... Malik was a good person, but he seemed to have so many secrets. Garrett wanted Malik to tell him everything, to be truthful with his problems, but Malik... Malik was the type of person who preferred solving problems on his own rather than relying on the help of others - even if it was his own lover who wanted to know, Malik would never reveal his secrets.

 

Why, wondered Garrett, casting his emerald orbs to the ground in defeat; why doesn't he trust me?

 

“Just tell me his name,” Garrett begged, gripping the silver bracelet tightly in his hands.

 

He knew Malik cheated on him, even if the Egyptian didn't say anything. And he was willing to forgive him - he'd be a hypocrite if he didn't, considering he'd done the same thing (and with a complete stranger, no less; although, Ryou could hardly be considered a stranger now, with how frequently he occupied the redhead's mind).

 

Malik stared at him emotionlessly. Garrett speculated, since it was capable of disappearing so quickly, if the love between them had ever really existed. Shrugging into his black jacket, Malik sighed and shook his head.

 

“Ryou,” he stated simply.

 

The word was enough to make Garrett step back in shock. His green eyes widened in bewilderment, his jaw slackening in surprise. For a moment, he fish-mouthed, unable to find any words that could properly convey the extent of his confusion.

 

“R-Ryou?” he gasped, voice an octave higher than usual.

 

Malik nodded his head, perplexed by his fiancé's reaction; he reached for the doorknob.

 

Garrett stuttered again, unable to fathom the thought of his lover actually seeking company from Room21. Malik seemed too noble to ever do such a thing. “As in... the-the prostitute?”

 

Malik's hand froze, poised perfectly about the knob. Lavender orbs narrowed slightly. Whipping around to face Garrett again, he asked in a low voice bridled with suspicion and disbelief, “the what?”