Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Paranoid ❯ Smell of Love ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

By: Nehti

Marik was struggling to concentrate on keeping his hands from shaking. His eyes widened a bit, and he honestly couldn't understand why he was so anxious about reading it. The first page of the diary was open in front of him, and he was trying to focus on the first entry.

Geez, his own handwriting really did look like chicken-scratch…besides, it didn't really sound like Marik to keep a diary!! Marik idly wondered why he had been such an idiot so as to keep a journal in the past…Oddly, it turned out to be helpful…he would finally learn! There was only one way to quench his curiosity and trepidation.

Quickly, he started reading the first entry.

December 1st, 2000

I won't waste time with stupid prefaces and talk about my personality. I don't even know why I'm writing this. Diaries are for fags...I only feel the need to write this down before I explode That' s it. I'll just write it and get it out of my system, since I can't tell anyone else- not even Bakura.

Yesterday, it was Bakura's birthday. Well, actually, it wasn't his real birthday…it was the anniversary of the day Bakura and I met in the hospital six years ago. Since Bakura never knew when his real birthday was (he had no parents to tell him…) we figured we'd celebrate his birthday every 23rd of October. I know, it's really weird for guys to keep a record of dates like that, but Bakura likes to remember stuff like that…I don't really know why it's so important to him to remember dates like the first time we went to school together…actually, I can't even understand why I like do it, myself. Contagious, I guess.

So, anyway, I was trying to figure out a present to buy for him, but I couldn't find anything good enough. Then, at some point I opened our closet and my eyes fell on his clothes. And then it hit me: I'd buy him new clothes. Bakura always liked to dress with white shirts and blue pants, which can be considered cool but monotonous, eventually. So I thought I'd use my `African-Arabian' taste and create a revolutionary style for Bakura.

I went to this huge department store while Isis was working overtime in the library and Bakura was forced to help her out alone. Secretly, I had told Isis to keep Bakura in the library while I went shopping for him -otherwise Babe and I are inseparable. Anyway, I spent five hours, trying to find something that would make him look like another person. FIVE GOD DAMN HOURS!! I was shopping in the mall like a WOMAN for FIVE hours!!!! Just to get my best friend some stupid gift…I think I am becoming more of a pansy every passing moment. Men don't write journals, and they don't give their friends a new wardrobe for their birthday!!

But I just couldn't help it, I needed to make Bakura wear something different -something that I thought might suit him. Call it curiosity, call it egotism, but for some reason, I needed to see Bakura wearing and using something I chose for him. I needed to hear him say he likes my taste.

Why was I feeling this way? Is it because Bakura has been my best friend for ages and I felt I had to give him something of importance? But why CLOTHES? I mean, he's a guy. He'd rather I bought him a soccer-ball. But then again, I've given Bakura all kinds of gifts in the past -sentimental and special and manly at the same time. WHY the hell do I want to make him beautiful NOW? Weird…

Anyway, I FINALLY chose something that I thought would make him look different. I gave it to him yesterday -more like barged in and threw it at his face first thing in the morning. He was only staring at me for a whole two minutes. Eventually, I had to slap him in order to make him refocus. I told him not to get very flattered and that I only did it because his taste in clothes sucked. I remember that I was so scared he wouldn't like the things I chose for him…damn it!! Why?!

And then he grinned and laughed at me, and I felt this sudden heat all around my chest. What the…? He said it was just like me to care about the least important thing in the whole world. Hey! I was trying to make him beautiful and it was blowing back at my face! But then again, Bakura did seem genuinely happy…

`Whatever, kiddo' I told him finally, as I ruffled his hair the way I always do `Go try it on and prove to the world what a good stylist I am'. He only shook his head and muttered that only fags are good male stylists. I started chasing him around until he was in the bathroom. I returned to our room and crashed on my bed. My heart was beating real fast, but it must have been all the running and chasing with Bakura. I couldn't wait until I saw him…

And then the door opened and in he came. And this is why I'm writing this stupid diary. He came in the room, wearing the clothes I chose for him. It was a black, kind of see-through net-shirt, along with black leather pants. That was only one of the sets of clothes I chose for him.

I can even recall the way his hair swayed around as he came in the room -oh my God, I always loved his hair ever since I friggin' MET him at the age of ten!! He doesn't even know about it… But now his hair is short and spiky around his head.

And the next thing I knew, I was watching him like a hawk. I could see he was feeling uncomfortable because he was kind of blushing and trying not to move too much. `Well, how about it?' he asked me, and I was frozen. Eventually, I managed to squeak out `great'. Damn!! Shit!! Pathetic!!

That wasn't what I was supposed to say!! I should have said my usual witty thing, like `I told you I'm such a cool stylist' or `Finally, you've got some style, Babe; you couldn't have done it without me…'

He squirmed around and said something that I really never managed to hear, but I saw him turn around sort of sadly and approach the exit. It suddenly hit me: he was disappointed about my `lack of enthusiasm'…and now he was all sad!!

I propped myself off the bed and instantly started running towards him. I still don't know why I did it. I hit the door with my fist before he could open it and tried to turn him around so I could see him.

I spun him around, all right…but then he tripped on some god-damn book on the floor and lost his balance. He grabbed onto me for support and pulled me down with him. And then I was on top of him, my face shoved into his see-through shirt and my limbs tangled with his own.

I can even remember the feeling of his body warmth against mine. I could hear his breath come in ragged gasps and since my head was pressed against his chest, I could even sense his thumping heartbeat. And I didn't even want to move.

I had this unbelievable urge to stretch my whole body on top of his, just so I could experience the feeling of his warmth. Unbelievable warmth. And then, I started noticing small things like the way he smelled.

I knew Bakura's special scent, already, of course…But then again, it was never like this. It suddenly dawned on me that Bakura was fifteen now. He had lost that boyish sort of scent that little kids have.

Now it smelt weird…I hadn't quite noticed it before…And I liked it. It wasn't the smell of a kid, but it wasn't the smell of a man either. There was no perfume, just the smell of his body…It smelt so incredibly deep, I just wanted to lay there and drawn in it forever. I just stayed in that position, afraid to move, afraid he'd somehow figure out what I was thinking…after all, Bakura and I grew up together, so we always knew what each other was thinking!!

Why wasn't he pushing me off? Why wasn't he laughing and shoving me off like he always did? Why did it suddenly dawn on me that he wasn't really a kid anymore? I mean…this was my best friend, Bakura!!! He was like my brother!! Like my big fifteen-year old best friend, who I just realized, looks very good in leather!!! That's just sick, man!!

I heard something suddenly, and then I felt something move beneath my torso. I heard the squeak of leather and I knew he was moving his leg, slowly.

I quickly pulled off of him and stood up, supposedly wiping the dust away from my clothes in order to conceal my shaking hands. `Sorry `bout that…But of course, it doesn't surprise me that wittle bwaby Bwakura can't even keep his balance…' I said something to lighten the mood.

I think it worked coz he sat up and glared at me with those scrutinizing eyes of his. `Shut up, blondie.' He said in a tone that didn't suggest anger. I offered him my hand and he took it. I pulled him up and tried to focus on anything but his tight clothes that I, myself, had CHOSEN for him!!!!!

He looked really embarrassed again. Haha!! It's always fun to see Bakura act all shy. He has no social experience whatsoever. I just love it when he's all afraid and bashful…It's hilarious!!!!!

`Told you I'm a great stylist. You finally look like a human from the 21st century!! What would you do without me?' I finally threw my line. He grinned in that demonic little way of his `I'd probably freely wreak havoc upon the universe all alone. ' he answered.

I grinned and I just couldn't suppress it `Whatever, as long as you'd slaughter Rishido for ever touching my sister!!!' Bakura rolled his eyes `Here we go again…' he said.

I huffed `No, seriously, what kind of secret was that? They'd been together ever since Isis was seventeen .That's underage. Doesn't that make Rishid a child molester?' Bakura rolled his eyes again and changed the subject `So, do you like it then?' he asked, motioning to his clothes. Damn, here we go again…that question. What was I supposed to say? That he looks hot and sexy? I'm his best friend! And I'm a guy…But then again…

`Sure I do, Babe. You look hotter than hell in my especially designed outfit. The ladies won't keep their hands off you.' Ha! I always managed to twist it around somehow. He started blushing at the sudden compliments. `Umm…thanks…but you know…' he was squirming `I feel a bit uncomfortable…how can you stand wearing this stuff all the time? With all this skin exposure…'

I stretched my hand and ruffled his hair. `I think you'd look better in a ponytail.' I told him, and he looked at me curiously, his eyes kind of sparkling. Weird…I've never seen his eyes look so hopeful.

`Thanks' he simply said and I instantly felt this wave of heat hit me.

So here I am, alone in the attic at four o'clock in the morning. I couldn't sleep. Bakura is sleeping in our room.

I just needed to write about this. I wanted to tell someone what I felt today. It's weird…and to be honest, it freaked me out. Why did I feel like that? I've never felt it before…not even with one of those prissy girls that chase me around at school. But then again, I always hang out with Bakura... What's the use of all those cheerleaders when I can hang around with Bakura?

Sometimes we play pranks on teachers -most of the time, actually…But some other times I go and play basketball with the others while he watches. Bakura doesn't really talk much.

I understand he's still afraid of people…afraid about what they might think of him…He doesn't like to play basketball, or other sports that involve coming in contact with other people. He always prefers tennis, volley or running on track. He's really fast, actually. Drake and I are the only ones who can compete with him in running.

When I first met him, Bakura used to curse at everyone he met. He used to be really angry with people, and that's why he played pranks on them. But now he's changed, kind of. Now he plays pranks just for fun, and he's never intentionally hostile to strangers.

He's just really quiet and aloof. That's why I guess I'm so proud of being close to him. Bakura has no other real friends except Isis, Rishid and me. It might sound selfish, but I just wouldn't have it any other way… Isn't that sick and arrogant?

But then again, I have no real friends except Bakura either…I guess we're just meant for each other, sort of…But why do I feel so proud and content about being the only one who knows Bakura like the back of his hand? Why?

Friendship, right? That's as far as it goes. He's my brother. I grew up with him, and we always stuck up for each other. Whatever punishment we had to deal with, we took it together always…It worried me when I felt like that today -well, yesterday. Why did I feel so hot all of a sudden? Weird… Anyway, I'll just leave this stupid book in this forsaken attic, so Bakura can never find it. I hope I will never have to write in it again.

Marik finally finished the first entry and blinked. He noticed that his hands were no longer shaking. Now his whole body felt numb. Attraction to Bakura…he had felt it before? His eyes were glued to the diary and couldn't let go. He immediately skipped to the second entry.

March19th, 2001

Hey. I'm pathetic. Of course I had to come back and write again. It took me some time, but I was eventually forced to come. This thing called `journal' can be considered the scapegoat of my feelings. I just throw everything in here and feel peaceful…for a while. I'm beginning to see why girls really like doing this.

I'll just be brief. It happened again- the thing with my best friend. It happened last night. One of our friends had invited us to this rave party- it was held in his house garage. So Bakura put on another one of those special-occasion outfits and I wore my own set of clothes. I took my bike, which I had bought last summer at my sixteenth birthday, and drove to this guy's house.

I won't even mention the way I felt on the motorcycle. I had Bakura's leather-clad body glued on me the whole time. I could even smell his scent threw the air. I can't believe it's so strong!

But I shook it off as a mere queasy feeling and had soon forgotten about it. The party was neutral. The DJ was a blonde girl that I had never met before. Anyway, when Bakura and I went inside, I was attacked by all these girls. They were constantly asking for my phone number. Bakura was standing next to me the whole time, grinning slyly and waiting for me to get out of the mess. How could he be so unperturbed at seeing all these girls try and take his place by my side? He let himself be pushed to the side and kept observing me with that soft, secretive look. I smirked at him and focused on the girls around me.

I pulled my usual stunt. I scribbled a fake telephone number on a piece of paper and gave it to one of them. Immediately, the others chased her around in order to copy the number… Pfff! I turned to gaze at Bakura, who was smiling at me serenely. Why did I feel so giddy, again?

As the party progressed, Bakura and I were trying to make people drunk by spiking the punch etc, etc…. When the plan failed, we both crashed on a nearby couch with a couple of cokes. Darn, who was the idiot to establish the law about underage drinking anyway? We never had that shit in Cairo. But of course, I was too young to even remember coherent things about Egypt. I told Bakura this and he chuckled. I felt pleased… I kept glancing at him constantly, just to check the back of his quiet silver head.

Lots of girls came and asked me to slow-dance with them, but I refused all their offers. When Bakura asked me why, I just told him that I didn't really find anyone worth dancing with. After he shook his head and commented on my strict tastes, he fell back to a quiet trance.

I was staring at him by now, and I couldn't stop myself. I was observing every single detail…his long bony fingers, the spiky hair and the sharp characteristics. I found myself focusing on his face, especially. He really was beautiful, though albino.

Bakura's face is always as white as a sheet of paper…I know his face by heart, every little part of it. Around his eyes is a soft pink colour. His irises are totally red, and in the center, instead of black…there is this glassy colour. It's the distinctive quality of all albinos: red eyes and see-through eye lenses. It's kind of freaky if you really think about it, but I always saw it as special. His lips have this permanently smudged, puffy pink color. Sometimes, when he bites his bottom lip, or when he finishes eating, his lips become cherry red. It's really nice…

I had been staring at him the whole time, and he knew it. He wasn't staring back at me, though. I suddenly realized there was a friend of ours, Jason, and Bakura was talking to him.

I didn't really listen to their conversation. The soft music that the DJ had chosen totally blew my mind, and I was completely focused on watching Bakura speak. I watched every single movement he made when he spoke. Every single clinging sound that his voice made when he chuckled. My friend was really beautiful.

Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder and was shaken away from my trance. I turned around to come face to face with a girl from my class. I must admit she looked good, but not really the one to suit my preferences. She looked at me with that desperate, pleading gaze and I instantly knew what she wanted. Unconsciously, my eyes floated back hoarsely, only to see Bakura was completely engrossed in conversation about how to make a margarita cocktail without using tequila. His hair floated around his head…He was just so beautiful.

The girl tapped on my shoulder again, more urgently this time. I turned back to her and distantly acknowledged she was asking me to dance with her. She begged me again and again, and after a while, I really felt I should go with her and get it over with.

I rushed to whisper in Bakura's ear that I'd be gone for a few moments. He abandoned his conversation immediately and turned to me with a questioning glance. I felt so arrogantly justified at having pulled his attention -I'm such a beast.

I motioned towards the girl and rolled my eyes secretly. He caught the message without losing a beat and smiled somewhat wickedly. `Have fun, then, Mariku.' He said simply and turned back to his chat. I shook my head in disgust -that Bakura…always playing with other peoples' pain…I like it…

I had started observing him again, when someone tugged my arm. Reluctantly, I let the girl pull me to the dance-floor. My head kept turning back to the couch that Bakura was sitting on. I watched him laugh quietly and idly wondered what Jason was telling him that was so funny. Instead, I settled for watching Bakura's expressions. His lips twitched lightly upwards, while his right hand kept absently stroking the coke bottle he was holding.

My dancing partner pulled me into a position of close proximity. She buried her pretty face in the crook of my neck and I had to resist the urge to push her away. I settled on turning to look at my friend again. Bakura had his left hand resting on his knee. That was a gesture that he really liked- he usually did it when he was enjoying himself a lot. His red eyes somehow glowed throughout the thick party atmosphere…or maybe it was just my imagination, coz I know his eyes so well and all…

I bet Bakura doesn't even know I think of him like that. He probably believes I see him as my little brother…how pathetic of me. Although Bakura is now fifteen years old, he certainly looks older. At that moment, as I was swaying to the music with that girl, all I could think about were those red eyes that were currently focused on Jason. Bakura was nodding in interest, talking a sip out of his coke occasionally.

As I was dancing, I had to sway around. Eventually, I was brought to a position that didn't allow me to see the albino, but I turned around anyway…It was very rare for me to get a chance to stare at Bakura without him noticing. I could stare at him while he was sleeping, of course, but that wouldn't allow me to see his eyes.

I had turned my head around and kept watching him. Suddenly, as I had focused on his eyes, I saw the bloody orbs float to my direction. I can recall the pressure even now…when his eyes locked on mine…I could see him look at me in that strange way. I was startled to see him wink and smirk at me pitifully. I swiftly realized he was making fun of my predicament of dancing with a girl I didn't like. Grr!! Just like Bakura to take advantage of my temporary weakness and mock me!!

No matter…he would pay at home. I'd fill his toothpaste with vinegar at night….hehehe…

His eyes were off of me in a second, and I felt strangely disappointed at having lost his temporary attention. The situation went on for a while, until the song FINALLY ended. The girl seemed a bit disappointed as she thanked me for dancing with her. I had to hold back from rolling my eyes. Oh come on, she was pretty!! Couldn't she find somebody else?

The speed in which I strode to Bakura's side impressed even me. He turned around at me when he sensed my presence. His red eyes glinted with that dark mirth that I suddenly found very provocative. `So how did it go?' he asked. I didn't even answer- just growled. I stretched my hand and grabbed his coke bottle.

I shook my loose strands of hair away from my face and dipped my head backwards. I took a long swig from his coke. He shook his head dismissively and turned back to Jason. As for me…I was just strangely focusing on flashbacks of Bakura drinking form that same bottle I was now holding. Instantly, I brought the bottle back to my lips and took another sip.

I'm still trying to deny the fact that I was unconsciously caressing the lid of the bottle with my lips. Maybe it was the illusion that I would get to taste Bakura…but that's even sicker!! First of all, Bakura and I have shared everything throughout the years-from clothes and boxers to toys and school books!! I've certainly drunk from his bottle of coke before…Then why the heck did it somehow feel different now???

And why the HECK did I feel the need to somehow taste his lips??!!! I've lived with him for all these years, co-existing with him like no other. I know him better than anyone and I have observed every single inch of his body! Why on earth would I feel the need to taste him NOW?

I know how he smells, how he washes his teeth, how he prefers his tea, how he combs his hair!!! Why would I ever want to taste him??

That's why I freaked out. Because I wouldn't stop drinking from that coke until it was finished!

I came to write this down, just to relax for a while. I just freaked out, is all. I had some strange craving for coke, that's it. We came home an hour ago and Bakura didn't even bother taking his clothes off. He fell on his bed and was fast asleep instantly. Why must I be punished with these damn thoughts while he sleeps so peacefully? Why can't he be feeling the same? He and I have always been together!! Why must I go through this all alone!!??!

Marik's eyes had widened to the size of saucers. He quickly skipped to the next passage. He was just so curious and anxious to learn the continuation…

April 12th, 2001

I don't really know why I skip such long periods of time in writing this diary. I guess things are progressing quite slowly…if this can be considered progress.

Ever since that party, I've been staring at Bakura all the time. He probably doesn't even know I'm staring coz I choose the times he's not looking at me. I usually look at him in class, coz he sits right in front of me and I can openly observe his back. Then there is PE. I always stare at him while I supposedly train for soccer. I always watch him when he's running on the track…

It's really weird, the fact that I'm afraid to look at my best friend whenever I want. I'm afraid that if he catches me staring at him, he'll instantly know all my thoughts about him. Now it's one o'clock in the morning. I couldn't sleep. I guess I found the best time to stare at him- while he's asleep.

He might not be lively, but I still get to memorize every part of his face…

Tonight I sat and stared at him for two hours straight. I took my time to watch the way he breathes: it's really slow, it's as if he's in a coma. First, his chest puffs up and THEN he inhales. Sometimes he sighs in his sleep. It's a very heavy breath, one that rumbles up from the pit of his stomach.

First he sighs and then he switches position. He especially likes lying in a supine position…personally, I prefer lying prone. I love stretching my entire body on the bed and lying prostrate, but Bakura is more comfortable with lying on his back and lightly folding his legs. In the moonlight, his hair glows even whiter and more silver. His lips don't look red or pink- they look purple. How could he be so beautiful? I don't understand…

Then there's his body- naturally thin and pale. The moonlight shows him for what he really is. In the sunshine, Bakura always seems pale and out of place whilst in the moon he just…glows. I already knew all this, of course…Then why am I taking such poetic notice of them so suddenly, you ask? I don't know.

As I was watching him, I stood slowly and went to sit on his bedside. He didn't even budge, so deep was his slumber. Lazily, shakily, I stretched a hand to touch that hair- I was in love with that hair!! I saw my own dark fingers bury in his silver head…His hair had become much longer, now they fell in spikes just above his shoulders.

I regretted telling him to cut it. I couldn't wait until it was long again…Just so I could have the chance to run my fingers through it…But who am I kidding anyway? I'll never have the chance to really run my hands through it and taint it with my uselessness…Bakura doesn't even know that I want to touch him…

My only chance to get what I crave comes at night. With my secret trysts…It's been happening for some time now…Every night I wait until he falls asleep and then I walk to his bedside. Each and every time, I run my hands over that hair.

Oh my God, I'm so pathetic…Have I really fallen to the level of groping my best friend in his sleep?

I like to caress his cheeks…and I really like to run a finger over his lips. Is it stupid!!!??? Look at what I'm writing!! It's pathetic, it's girly!! I'm alone in an attic, confessing my secret desires to a BOOK!!!

And every night, when I touch his face, I put my hand under his nose and feel the ticklish sensation of his breath on my fingers. It's quite cool, actually. I don't really know why I do it. I could just grope him, right? But it just doesn't feel right…All I want to do is feel his breath…feel his life.

Does that make sense? I start to realize that I want to feel the very way he breathes…the way he sleeps and the way he talks and runs…I want to feel his life…his heart…

And I want to have the illusion that his heart beats for me. Isn't that arrogant? To want someone to live for you only? When I sense his breath, I want to believe that it comes in sync with mine…and I want to feel his lungs move under my touch. I want to give him life…and want him to run to me for breath…

Isn't that weird? I want my best friend to depend on me for life…I want him to come to me for everything…I want him…to want me.

And I want it so much that my ribs hurt…I write this now because I honestly don't know what else to do. The boy is a mere fifteen years old, but he's managed to make me feel things I've never felt before. Although many girls at school chase me around, I've never given into their whims. There was always only one person I was devoted to…only one that could wake my passion for life: Bakura. I always knew that my friend gave me the will to live. He fuels my interest in life. But suddenly, I realized he didn't only give me life…He gave me passion…

He gave me the need to impress him…he gave me the passion to commit myself so absolutely… that I suddenly find myself utterly lost in his existence.

As I grow, I realize that it's not only the love of a brother…It's not the childish possessiveness of a friend…Oh no…What I feel is much worse…much deeper…

I NEED him to live. I NEED him. I need his scent, his eyes, his hair. I need his breath…his beating heart…Bakura and I have always been devoted to each other… I am in bondage, tied to his soul for eternity…And I feel so helpless. My feelings are not lustful, but they border on the edge of obsession.

I know he feels for me -we've been together always. But this is different…What if I revealed to him what I dream about? What if he finds out that I am so unbelievably attached to him? Maybe he'll be afraid of me…of what might happen if he tries to continue our friendship. He seems so oblivious, he doesn't even notice the way I look at him.

I know Bakura. He just thinks I see him as my best friend, my brother. Our bond is so solid in many ways…but how can I explain to him that I need him so much more? I need every part of him! I know that if I requested it from him, he'd give himself to me willingly, just so as not to hurt my feelings…But it just doesn't work like that. I want him to WANT me. And I need him to scream it with every fiber of his being.

How did this situation get so out of hand? This is a boy, we're talking about!! My best friend!!

And it's not because I'm gay. I've never looked at other guys like this before. To be honest, I never looked at girls either. All I ever looked at and really considered worthwhile was Bakura. It's not really the choice of the person's sex. It's the person that counts.

Bakura could as well be a woman, it would be the same to me. I am just so inevitably drawn to his aura, that nothing can stop the attraction- not even the fact that he's a man. Never in my sixteen years have I experienced the physical `excitement' that Bakura's closeness provokes sometimes. If I was queer, then I would get turned on by other supposedly hot guys, but the thought disgusts me. The thought of being with a woman disgusts me just as much.

All I ever wanted was Bakura. Nobody can provoke my passion as much as he can. My whole life I have been unconsciously trying to impress and woe him, showing him what I can do…

From that very first day, when I was ten years old in the hospital, all I have ever tried to do…is make him want my company. When I had his company, I sought friendship, but I still wasn't satisfied.

It soon became apparent that I wanted his essence. I wanted to have that silver hair, those glossy eyes, that soft skin…I wanted to have him writhe for me, scream for me, breathe for me, even EXIST for me!!!!

How absolutely sick is that? That's just so much like me, wanting the only thing you can't have, and wanting it to the point of self-mutilation.

Now I'm just sitting in the attic, miserable and alone. He's lying downstairs, sleeping peacefully. He's always so peaceful and quiet- he doesn't even know what I'm going through.

I want him…Shit, I'm in love with him.

Marik didn't even bother with hiding his anxiety. This was impossible! HIM? In LOVE with BAKURA? What on earth was this about? And all that feeling too…The diary was like a drug, and Marik was already addicted to it. Unconsciously, he turned the page and started reading more.

June 23rd, 2001

Summer break is here, already. My obsession with Bakura is growing stronger every day. I can't even pull my eyes away from him these days…I wonder if I'm being too obvious…but then again, `he's my pal', right?

Isis finally took a break from the library. She arranged another one of those expeditions to Miami. Darn, what is it with that woman and Miami? It probably reminds her of Egypt or something…Women are W-E-I-R-D, man.

That's what I was telling Bakura at breakfast this morning. He shook his head in that suspiciously placating way of his. `I don't think so.' He finally answered calmly `Isis told me that Miami had something to do with her honeymoon with Rishido, or something…'

I huffed indignantly, as I shoved a spoon of my favorite cereal in my mouth. `Of course' I answered `Everything annoying that happens in my life has to do with that bastard…' I said with my mouth full. Bakura chuckled.

`You really are a moron, Mariku…' he simply stated, but for some reason I didn't feel offended. `Why thank you.' I sarcastically barked back in fake anger. I saw Bakura's eyes widen suddenly as he looked at my face.

`Don't move' he suddenly said and stood up. I watched him curiously with a raised eyebrow. What the heck? And the next thing I knew was that he had brought his face only mere inches from mine. I could feel my heart pounding desperately in my chest. I could even feel the heat gather in my face.

Bakura stretched his arm and touched my cheek. When he removed it, there was a blotch of brown on his finger. My cereal. Bakura pulled away and eyed his hand.

`Aww…Wittle Malwick Can't aim his spoon in his mouth. He threw his food all over his face…Do you want me to feed you, wittle Malwicku?' I remember the challenging way he watched me and I threw a glare at him. `Shut it, you pig.'

Bakura pouted comically and bent forward towards me, his face very close to mine. I could smell his distinct scent already. I had learned it by heart after all those nights of watching him… `I might be a pig, but at least I'm not a filthy wittle Mawicku. That's the worst type of piggy. It has blonde-'

But I interrupted him by shoving his grinning face away. He staggered and grabbed onto me for balance. Unfortunately, I was bending forwards, so I found myself keeling over him again. I noticed vaguely that the teasing expression had left his features and now he seemed kind of dazed…I hoped he didn't think ill of my antics.

As I was confronted by the drowning effect of his body heat, I slowly realized I felt really hot myself. Now, don't misunderstand me, but, although I am sixteen, I don't necessarily have much experience with physical attraction -especially since I have never been attracted to anyone except Bakura.

I felt a bit confused at first, but then, all the signs dawned on me as I stared at Bakura's strangely dizzy, opaque eyes. First there was that quick shiver through my spine- so cold and yet so hot. Then, came the heat, I could feel it throbbing between my legs. And last of all, the overwhelming urge- the urge to rub my body over something, preferably something hot.

I was frozen on the spot- afraid to move. Begrudgingly, I realized what was going on and why I suddenly felt so disturbingly needy. I had better left before Bakura became suspicious… With a quick jerk, I stood up and tried to face away from his ever-watchful eyes.

I stood in an angle that could hide my attraction to him and quickly apologized. I had run up the stairs and into the attic in a matter of seconds. A cold shower was the best solution, I had heard from my friends…

How pathetic can you get? Bakura was obviously very oblivious and very calm about our whole interaction. Now I'm in the attic, waiting for tomorrow morning, when we'll take the plane to Miami.

I have the feeling that my vacation this year will be torture.

June 28th, 2001

We've been in Miami for a few days now…As always, Isis, baldy and I go to the beach every morning. At first, Isis asked Babe not to come to the beach because of the scorching sun, but Bakura said he'd simply wear clothes and lots of sun-cream.

Isis was very reluctant and told him he should stay at the shade of an umbrella. Bakura agreed and we all went to the beach. I was watching Bakura look at the sea somewhat wistfully. I know he's still very touchy about being an albino. I don't see why. Who could possibly not like him? He was beautiful…

Isis helped him put sun-cream on his exposed arms and face. Apart from that, he was dressed in a t-shirt and trousers. Black sunglasses and a hat covered his head. He looked really funny. When I pointed that out to him, he smirked and proceeded to comment on my Hawaiian-style swimming shorts.

Damn, he made my face red again. I was contemplating whether to go dive or stay with him. Suddenly, I spotted two rackets at his side. I proposed we play together and he obliged, so we walked to the seaside and started playing. It wasn't long until he got completely annoyed with his hat. He let it drop and revealed the spiky mane of hair that I caressed every night. I smiled…I love him…

He threw his glasses away too, and provoked the attention of many swimmers with his red eyes and white hair. We started playing frantically and we beat the record of fifty ball passes. Wow. We really WERE good at this.

And then some girl came over and started talking to me. My eyes kept checking on Bakura the whole time she was speaking. I didn't even catch a word from what she was saying. All I could focus on was Bakura tapping his foot impatiently. Suddenly, the girl said something that caught my attention. It was something about `a surfing contest' and `the prize'. I smirked and told her I'd compete. Then I walked to Bakura and told him about it. He smiled and nodded, saying he'd be playing beach-volley with Rishido and Isis, who had now come out of the water. Pfff…that baldy…

I agreed and took my surfing board. I told Bakura I'd teach him how to surf later. Then I went to the contest and did my best. To make a long story short, I beat the stupid contest and won `the prize': A football. How…impressive?. Damn, I needed something better to give to Bakura…never mind…

The need to make him love and want me was just overwhelming…When I gave him the ball and wrote that crappy dedication with white-out, he looked so happy. I remember how he beamed at me and thanked me profusely. All I wanted to do was pull him close and run my itchy fingers all over him, but I settled on ruffling his hair.

I gave him some idiotic excuse to justify why I gave him that stupid ball. It's just like me to try and justify my sentimental gifts and actions…I'm such a wimpy fag. I told him I'd teach him how to surf, when Isis came and asked us to take a photo.

Whatever, sister. Women are just W-E-I-R-D. How the HECK did she get THAT idea?

She started saying something about `capturing the moment' and `never letting happy moments slip away'…All I could think about at the moment was Bakura, so I let her take a picture of us and pulled him along with me.

I couldn't really teach him how to surf in the water -the sun was still up. So I seized the chance to grope him while showing him every single way of setting the surfing equipment in place.

Curiously, he didn't seem to mind…Bakura can be very oblivious sometimes, I think…I guess that's really a good thing…for me, at least. That way he doesn't suspect my actions…

When the sun came down, he stripped down to his bathing suit. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, he was so beautiful…so …lean…

It was stretched in front of my eyes…his creamy skin. I felt jealous of everyone else that could see him on the beach. I wanted him; just for myself…Just for me…I could fantasize about having him undress for me in secret…I could even envision him pulling me to his embrace, egging me to touch him…telling me he needs me as much as I do him…

I'm going crazy.

All afternoon, we were training and swimming. He looked so happy, I've never seen him like that, I think. He was just glowing…Every time he let his body float on the water I'd start staring at him. I watched his eyes roam over the purple evening sky…

His hair was great underwater. I watched it literally float around his head when he dived. And the background of the tropical water against his pearly flesh…I've never seen anything like this before…

We went back to our hotel room and took our showers…When night came I stayed outside, in the balcony. I listened to my mp3 until it was midnight, and then I went back inside.

I was surprised to see he wasn't asleep. He was actually sitting up on his bed and looking outside. When I asked what he was doing, he simply answered `I was waiting for you. I wanted to see when you'd come back…'

That was the single phrase. It made me so unexplainably happy…I was unable to speak… `Thanks' I simply said and he smiled in the darkness. I punched the light switch and a nocturne green spotlight filled the room. We stayed up for some time and talked about what we'd do the next day.

Finally, we closed the lights and went to bed. I could hear his even, calm breathing in a matter of minutes. As for me, I just quietly stood up and reached for this journal. Now I'm sitting on the bathroom floor, writing it, just because I need to think about him…I sound like a prissy cheerleader in love.

Is that pathetic, or what?

Marik was getting impatient, where was this story taking him? Instantly, he swished the pages forward. He couldn't afford reading everything, so he'd just skip to the last few pages. He stared reading again, this time more eager than ever.

August 6th, 2002

Finally, Isis chose some original place to go for vacation. I guess we all need a break from the bar and the library. Bakura is totally worn out. As for me…well, let's just say that I don't want to see my guitar for another two months…okay, well. Not two months but…you know.

This year, Isis suggested we go to some tropical place. Bakura and I half expected she'd come up with something like Pennsylvania…that sounded extremely tropical for Isis's taste. She surprised us, however, when she suggested the Seychelles.

I mean…Seychelles? Isis? O-kay…Women are…well, you know.

We rented a couple of bungalows. How convenient: Isis stays with her BALD husband while I get to share one with Bakura. I'm beginning to believe that fate is doing it just on purpose to torture me.

I mean, I'm used to it; already…It's been two years. I'm seventeen now, and Bakura is sixteen. With each passing year, the boy becomes more like a god. His hair now reaches the middle of his back… I love it…

Isis told me that the sunrays are very dangerous in places like this tropical island. I'd have to make Bakura stay indoors all day long. I was tempted to ask her why she had chosen such a place for vacation, if she knew that Bakura would not be able to cope with it…I forgot about it, however, and simply went to Bakura.

It broke my heart to see him so disappointed, it really did. It seemed like the world was constantly reminding him of how different he was. Bakura always had problems with being different…

I hate to argue with him. I really do. So, in order to avoid the upcoming outburst, I decided I'd put my pride aside and show how much I care about him.

He was shocked when I offered to stay inside with him until sunset. I could see it in his eyes that he never expected such sincerity from my arrogant nature. It only took a moment for him to speak, and he simply said `no'.

He told me to go surf -he knows I love surfing so much. He said he'd just take a shower and read his Formula 1 magazine. Besides, the beach was only a few meters away from the bungalow…

I tried to disagree, but he said he'd have it no other way. Knowing that Bakura can be as stubborn as a mule if he wants to, I succumbed to his wishes…although I could never see how I'd have a good day without him…

So I went to the beach and started slacking off with the others. I raced some pathetic tourists in surfing, and I even tried scuba-diving. But then again, nothing felt right without him. I kept glancing towards our bungalow…I was hoping to see him there, watching me, standing in the entrance and waving…

Who knew what he was up to…? I constantly kept looking at the bungalow doorway while playing beach volley with a group of strangers. But he still wasn't there…

It was evening and the sun was no longer burning our flesh. I thought I'd make the best of it and go find Bakura. When I sat up from my position of sun-therapy, (as if I needed any...) I looked at the bungalow. Nope. He STILL wasn't there…I felt slightly hurt. Didn't he miss me, or care about me…at all?

I turned my attention back to the sea and observed the seagulls roam over the green-blue surface of the water. Seagulls…that usually meant a change of season, right? Well, it was August, after all…

Suddenly, a voice echoed from my left. `Look!! Look at his hair!!' some stranger shouted to his friend. I turned around curiously, only to come face to face with what the others considered a spectacle.

Bakura walked ethereally, in an almost surreal way. I don't know where the sudden gust of wind came from, but it hit his face and sent his incredibly long hair sweeping around like threads of white. I couldn't believe it…he looked like an angel -literally.

He had no shirt on; only a knee-long, dark scarlet bathing suit adorned his lithe body. Distantly, I recognized it as one of MY bathing suits. Even though he was a little younger than me, Bakura now had my height and my own general body type, so it would only be logical for him to borrow my clothes…but…oh shit…I think I'm getting hot…

Bakura's red eyes wisped around the beach, as he stepped away from the shade of palm trees. Since I was in a generally crowded part of the beach, it was highly unlikely for him to spot me.

I watched his elegant moves, his impressive aura of frost. How was it possible that he brought an air of cool everywhere he went- even in a tropical beach? I stood up immediately in order not to lose his white head. I watched him walk towards a crowd of people from afar. He was probably looking for me.

The tourists and especially the natives in the beach were watching him with disbelieving wide eyes. They probably hadn't seen an albino before in their whole lives. Once Bakura reached the crowd, people retreated in order to let him pass. I watched the entire crowd split in two in order to let him walk and stare at him.

Bakura simply looked from one person to the other, and eventually started walking forwards suspiciously. He's obviously gotten used to being stared at, and still abhors it. When we were younger, people didn't use to look at him so blatantly, but now…

Now he's not a kid any more. He looks like a man. A man with incredibly long, white hair and white, porcelain skin. I was jealous again. Most of those people-especially the females- were looking at him in dreamy wonder, not curiosity. He was attractive…

I remember I couldn't suppress the urge to prove he was mine, somehow. I ran towards him instantly and pulled the attention of the crowd to me. Really, I couldn't care less. I just wish they'd all go back to their own business…But not before I made it clear to everyone that Bakura belonged to me only.

He didn't see me run up to him, and when he did, it was too late. I tackled him from behind and carried us both roughly to the ground. I spun us around immediately, having learnt form experience that these little stunts were never of my best interest. When we finally stopped tumbling like loose barrels, Bakura was on top of me.

Each of his arms were at either side of my head, trapping me on the sand. Some of his silver hair grazed my cheeks while the longer strands were pressed between our adjoined torsos.

Bakura seemed shaken to say the least. His eyes widened and he apologized profusely, tried to stand up, only to discover that our limbs were entwined and…blush?

I think I'm going to faint…he looks wonderful when flushed. Yet, I shouldn't let my cover down…

I smirked at him from the bottom and couldn't help but feel absolutely justified by this turn of events. The way Bakura was above me…the intimate contact…and the way his hands were blocking my head…I couldn't help but imagine that he really wanted me…and that he was doing this by his own accord…

But no such luck…He pushed away and landed supine right next to me on the sand. Immediately he yelped upwards `Ai!! It's hot!!' he said, as he tried to sit up from the sand. I had almost forgotten how sensitive he was to anything that had to do with sunlight…we had the same problem with PE at school. Bakura could never be exposed to the sun for more than seven minutes or something, for fear of getting one of his HORRID sunburns, which made him look like a mummy at times…

`Let's go!' He said. I commented on the bathing suit he was wearing and he only smiled slyly `I like it' he told me simply, and I threw back a playful tease `Of course you do. You like everything that has to do with me, since I'm such a super-hunk. Ailn't that what ze ladiez say, now?'

Bakura visibly rolled his eyes. `Whatever, Mariku.' I love it when he says my name like that…It sounds so intimate. For some reason, it gives me the illusion that I mean something special to him…

August 7th, 2002

I am generally I light sleeper, so I woke up when I heard a weird clinging noise, and a thud on the door yesterday night. Everything was kind of fuzzy in the beginning, but I soon realized that Bakura had left.

I turned to check his bed and it was empty. Curious and anxious about what he was up to, I stood up and went to the door shakily. I opened it easily, it wasn't locked. I tried to be as quiet as possible when I walked outside.

I stared intently at the beach and spotted what I was looking for. A dark figure, walking towards the sea. It was Bakura, I recognized him from the glowing hair. It was a night with a bright moon that marked a trail of light on the black sea-water.

I couldn't keep my curiosity, so I decided I wouldn't talk to Bakura, I'd just follow him- see what he was up to. He never kept secrets from me -I hoped- and so I felt obligated to find out what my friend was up to. When he had retreated enough, I moved forward in stealth.

I ran and hid behind a palm tree, where I could spy at my friend in peace. How pathetic. I watched him simply stand on the seaside, letting the water wash over his feet. And then I felt like screaming.

He first took his shirt off. Then he gripped the rim of his pajama boxers. Cautiously, he glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and I felt my breath hitch at my throat. Oh no, maybe this was a bad idea after all…

But it was too late…With one, swift movement; he forced the boxers off his narrow hips. I wanted to cover my eyes- honestly- but I couldn't. At that moment, I felt so dirty, so filthy…and so hot.

I didn't really get to see much, but the knowledge of it being there, right in front of my treacherous eyes…was enough to drive my crazy. I couldn't even see his backside well enough, because the moon hit him from the front setting his back to shade.

I couldn't help it. I watched…my mouth aghast and suspiciously salivating, as he stepped into the water. I didn't even bother suppressing my gasp when I saw his hips sinking in the sea- his smooth skin drowning in cool liquid. I couldn't bear to watch any longer…My hands were unconsciously gripping the trunk of the palm tree with white knuckles. I felt my nails dig into the wood, and suddenly, I realized that I had glued my entire body on the tree, especially my hips.

I AM pathetic.

I watched Bakura sink in to the level of the waist. The ends of his unusually long hair were dipped in the water and became wet, thus stopping to blow with the wind…Oh my God…even now that I'm writing about it…it was…beautiful…

I watched him bathe, like a nymph, and I couldn't believe my luck! This was probably the last time I would ever get to see Bakura naked in my whole life. When we were young kids, of course, we always took showers together…but this was different…MUCH different…coz now we were grown up and all…

He was the son of the night, literally. He came out at night to bathe naked in the sea…unbelievable. How could he do it? I watched him do what he had been unable to do during the day. He dived and swam and reveled in the water. Sometimes, he'd come out and gasp for air after a long dive. His silver hair would sparkle with water and moonlight…as his mouth opened greedily to devour much needed oxygen. How incredibly…sensual. The way his mouth opened erotically in search for air, the way the drops of water rolled down his skin…

And at these moments, I'd always remember how much I wanted him. How much I want that breath to whisper my name with every single exhalation…I wanted to feel his heart beat against mine… and I needed to smell the scent of his body on my skin…is that possible? To stain his angel form with something of my own…just to prove that he is mine? Just to prove that he wants me?

But, all good things must come to an end, and he eventually finished his bath. When I saw him walk out of the water, I quickly averted my eyes. It wouldn't be prudent to exploit his nudity. Besides, if I actually saw anything of interest, then I probably wouldn't be able to restrain myself any longer.

I knew he'd head back to the bungalow in a few moments. It would be best if I left before he started walking back. I somewhat clumsily walked back to our room, but luckily the night breeze drowned all the noises of my shattered nerves and weak knees.

I hurriedly ran to my bed and lay limply on it. I covered myself with the sheets and feigned a convincing sleeping position. But of course, my nerves were stiffer than ever, and I couldn't wait until Bakura came back.

Eventually, after what felt like eternity, I heard noises from outside. All I had to do was close my eyes and mimic the rhythmic breath of sleep. I heard the door open and Bakura's footsteps echo carefully around so as not to `wake me'. I felt so dirty again…

I heard the bathroom door open and close. Next came the soft sound of water running from the shower. When the tap was closed, Bakura came out of the bathroom. I still couldn't open my eyes for fear that he might discover my antics…

And then, the second shock of the day came. I heard his footsteps come closer to me and I sensed the presence of his body towering over mine. I didn't know whether he had discovered me or not…It took all the effort in the world to keep my breath in a steady, deep pace, when all I really wanted to do was gasp and writhe. What was he doing?!?!

I was startled to feel an ice-cold finger slide onto my face. Bakura was touching me on his own accord! I had to suppress my compulsion to gasp in surprise and visibly stiffen. Thank God my breath didn't hitch at that moment, or he might have figured something out!

I felt his digit slide behind my ear and push a few strands of my hair behind it. Then, he let his fingertips brush over my cheek in a feathery touch. It was the greatest feeling I have ever experienced…Bakura was touching me…like that…

`If only…' I heard his husky voice whisper dejectedly.

I heard a very heavy sigh escape his lips as he retraced his cold fingers and moved them away from me. Nah….nothing important.... I should just forget about it…

No words were spoken. Just a sigh. And then he fell on his bed with the ruffling of covers.

As always, I waited until his breathing became even and deep. Then, I slipped away from my bed and in the bathroom. I didn't bother with touching his sleeping face -it was very likely for him to wake up at this point. I went in the bathroom and looked around in the dim-light until I found what I was looking for: a wet towel. The wet towel Bakura had used after his shower.

And then, I, Mariku Ishtar, did the girliest, most pathetic thing I have ever done in my seventeen years of life.

I buried my face in his towel and fought to smell what little of him I still could.

October 28th, 2002

Now it's one o'clock at night and I'm back in my lonely attic. It's just…something happened in the bar. And I really need to talk about it…

I have never taken full credit about how many girls try to flirt with me on a daily basis. Bakura probably knows and accepts this. He never comments or complains about the girls that chase me around .Most of the time, I flirt with them in order not to raise suspicions…and Bakura never complains or comments about it. I guess he has learnt to accept that annoying chicks have the tendency to push him away from me while trying to take my phone number.

In the bar, I play as main guitarist in a group. Most of the time, Bakura watches me when I'm on stage. Sometimes, he doesn't, because there are too many customers in the bar.

Tonight, though…it wasn't the same. I finished my performance and was asked to dance with some girl. I accepted, reluctantly. When I glanced at Bakura's direction, I saw him talking with someone.

A girl.

A pretty, ebony haired, impressive girl. I could see the way she batted her eyelashes at him, and I could see the slow, suggestive smile that had found its way onto her features.

Terrified, I turned to my best friend, expecting to see the customary bored gaze in his red eyes. Imagine the horror when I saw him mirroring her flirtatious gaze, grinning at her in that lazy, boyish way of expressing attraction…

What was more natural for a boy to like, than a girl, right?

I wanted to run up to him but I realized I was trapped in the arms of my dancing partner. My frantic eyes returned to the object of my affection, who was now talking to that girl again. I could see it, already…their black and white hair mixing beautifully in the wind…His pale hand clasped tightly against hers…his full, red lips whispering words of love in her ears…It was perfect. The boy and the girl. Man and woman. Adam and Eve. They were made for each other…And where did the protagonist's best friend fit in the story? Nowhere, I guess.

I had always shown Bakura what a `straight' guy I am. I always acted like I cared about girls. I usually danced and flirted with women in front of him, just to make sure he doesn't get suspicious. It's only fair he started doing the same, right? His seventeenth birthday is a few days away...he's a boy…No wait: a man. He has urges…right?

But wait a minute. This was no romantic love story…something was wrong here. Oh yes…I was glaring right at the girl. I was piercing holes into her skull and I'd do it again if I had the chance…I have experience with womens' minds and I knew that look in the bitch's eye.

It screamed three words to me, across the entire dance-floor: One-night-stand.

She was eyeing my beloved with those sultry, cat-like eyes. Those women…they are so feline, so seductive. Moments like this remind me why I don't blame people who turn homosexual because of a woman. Those females can make you believe whatever they want, squish your mind in claws of beauty and smash your brain soon after…(1)

And I knew how easily a girl like her could seduce an inexperienced, innocent boy. A boy I happen to be in love with.

I could see why she chose him. With his silver hair tied up in an elegant ponytail and his black attire, he seemed like an exclusively dark, mysterious, sexy character. To me, who knows him best of all, it screamed virginity in all directions.

I wonder how she managed to make him notice her. Bakura has seen beautiful girls before, but he never seemed particularly interested…Why did he have to be interested in the one who was so obviously seeking to hurt him?

I knew it wasn't fair for him, but I'd interrupt their little interaction as soon as possible. I couldn't let her use and hurt him. He was the creature I loved most in the world, and I would protect him at all costs.

When the song ended and I was free to go to my friend, I hurried to the bar. Swiftly, I took a seat two stools away from the bitch. I turned my attention to my friend, who was now taking care of another customer.

I didn't even have to call him. He saw me and came to talk to me. I was temporarily relieved, at least nothing had happened yet. I asked him what he thought of my performance tonight, and he answered he hadn't been watching, unfortunately.

I was tempted to ask why, but I couldn't bear to hear the answer. I knew what it was, already: The bitch. He'd been talking to the bitch! I didn't get the chance to talk to him any more, since we were interrupted by the bitch's call.

`Hey Baku!!' she called `sweetly', her voice dripping with honey and fake enthusiasm. First name basis? `Baku'??

I didn't like where this was going. I knew it was selfish to prevent my best friend from developing any sort of relationship with a woman, but I just couldn't let her use him to fill one of her lonely nights!!

I watched him move towards her eagerly. Bitterly, I realized he was there to talk to her, not to take her order. What were they talking about that was so interesting, anyway?

I didn't want to call him and make him suspicious, so I settled on waiting for the next time I could attract his attention. A customer eventually asked for some beer, and Bakura went to get it.

Suddenly, a soft melodic voice wrung from my left. `Hey there…' it was another one of those blonde chicks. I knew that if Bakura saw her, he'd immediately forget about talking to me, thinking I was flirting.

And so he did. When he came out, his eyes fell on me first. He glanced at the blonde next to me and winked reassuringly. Pff!! He can be so stupid sometimes!! He probably thinks I bed these girls or something! I bet he believes I've lost my virginity already…How to explain to him that nothing can turn me on except himself??!

Fragments of his conversation with the bitch echoed around me. They were talking about her cousin and how he owned some cigar company in Texas. How…entrancing? I still can't understand how that bitch ever managed to attract his attention on the first place.

After I finally managed to shake off the blonde who was hitting on me, I decided it was time for drastic measures. I stood up quickly and walked to the next stool -the one next to the bitch.

`Mariku!' Bakura suddenly exclaimed in glee as he saw me. I could see the bitch give me one of those irate looks from the side. `Meet Michelle.' Bakura introduced quite excitedly. I was disappointed to hear the enthusiasm in his voice. Maybe he really did like this woman and I had no place separating him from her…

`Pleased to meet you, Mariku…' I heard her say as she stretched a handshake towards me. Although I had the urge to spit on her face, I thought it would be more practical to act indifferent so as not to anger Bakura.

I took her hand and shook it in trained, flawless disinterest `Call me Marik.' I simply stated in a practiced stark voice. I'd actually rather she called me `Ishtar' but I generally dislike using my father's last name.

Bakura seemed openly confused at my lack of amiability. How to explain it to him? How?

The most unlikely person came as my savior. Rishido. Maybe I like him after all…but just a bit. A minuscule…a very small bit.

He told Bakura that the bar would have to close in twenty minutes due to some kind of technical problem with the music. Bakura seemed reluctant and Michelle was positively devastated. She told us that it was a shame and left us soon after.

I was heartbroken to see Bakura so crestfallen…I felt a bit guilty, too. After all, I had tried to prevent him from doing something he wanted…but I WAS doing it for his own good…

…and for my own selfish reasons…

Only tonight did I realize that Bakura might leave me. He's a man now, right? If he finds a girl he wants…he'll leave me for her…right?

Women hold that power…Even over my loved one.

I feel terrible. I think I'll go to sleep, for a change…I need my sleep…Maybe I'll find out it was all a bad dream when I wake up.

October 19th, 2002

I don't know how. I don't know why. But it happened.

After I wrote the last entry last night, I went to bed. Bakura was already fast asleep on his bed.

And so I guess I fell asleep really fast too. I saw this dream, where Bakura and Michelle were making out like wild bunnies. I tried to reason and talk to Bakura, but he wouldn't listen. I even told him bluntly that Michelle was using him as a toy…but he defended her and spat at me -literally. Bakura, the one and only person I have adored for all these years, spat at my face and cursed me to hell.

And then he left me. I screamed and screamed for him to come back to me, to turn back. I yelled at him and cried I didn't want to lose him. But he and Michelle just kept walking away…slipping away from me…not one last glance. `Don't leave me!!! Bakura!!' I was screaming so loud that I could feel my voice chords hurt in my sleep. I didn't even know how that was possible.

And then, something started shaking my whole body. When I opened my eyes, I screamed his name one last time and jerked upwards to a sitting position. I was greeted by a warm embrace.

Bakura's arms were wrapped around my whole shaking, hoarse body. I didn't even know what was going on until I felt something moist slip down my cheeks when I blinked. Had I been crying…me, crying…In my sleep??!

`You were shouting my name…' he pointed out the obvious as he held my limp, sweating body. I didn't know whether I heard right, but there had surely been a hue of happiness in his voice.

I couldn't do anything else, apart from grip frantically on his blue t-shirt and mutter unidentified words. Unconsciously, I pushed myself against his body and squeezed my arms around his shoulders even more.

`Don't leave me…' I whispered in his ear pathetically, in repetition of my dream. I felt him shake his head and whisper back `Never…'

Slowly, I pulled my shaking body apart from his, just so I could stare into his curiously softened orbs of wine red. I'd never seen his eyes look so…moist and red and vivid. Instantly, I felt the urge to feel his presence next to me again, so I pulled him forward and wrapped my arms all around him, squeezing him desperately against my body, feeling his essence melt against my touch. I was still shaking and sweating, and couldn't really tell between dreams and reality…

I was so desperate, so frantic. `Don't ever leave me…' I whispered again at his compassionate form. I squeezed him so passionately against my body, that I soon lost all control. With one trembling movement, I had grabbed his torso and swirled him against my bed. I could feel him stiffen in my steel embrace immediately, but he dared not do anything.

`Say you won't leave me…' I murmured shakily as I let my body pin him on my mattress completely. Slowly, nervously, he raised his hands and placed them around my back.

`I'll never leave you…' he repeated slowly, obviously expecting me to release him any moment, if I heard what I wanted. I raised my head to check the sincerity in his eyes. When I met his honest, bloody gaze, I heaved a long sigh and let my head dive in the crook of his neck yet again.

The scent was overwhelming. I smelled it hungrily, possessively. My exhalation came from my mouth in hot, ragged gasps. I could sense his body tense up every time I breathed.

`Lay by me…stay with me tonight…' I whispered in his ear so only he could hear. He couldn't conceal his surprised gasp as his bloody eyes glanced frantically around, seeking means of escape. I bet.

Finally, he seemed to come to terms with something in his mind and answered. `Fine…' he said `Just calm down, Mariku…I'll never leave you…'

I felt heat envelop my entire body at his words, but it still wasn't enough. In my confused state of mind, I couldn't really register what I was doing; I guess…I could only focus on how much I wanted him.

`Forever is a long time…' I murmured against his shoulder and felt him nod.

`I still won't leave you…you're the one who makes me want to live…' he said slowly and I smiled faintly.

But it still wasn't enough. I wanted more. More reassurance. I needed to make sure he wasn't lying. I needed to hear him say he wants me in a way I didn't really understand myself.

I wanted him to want me. And it all came down to the same thing in the end. To make him mine. Completely, utterly, unbreakably mine. To make him scream and cry for me only…to make sure he'll never leave, because he will be bonded to me…in every possible way…

Bakura…

And I soon realized I wasn't just thinking his name. I was whispering it over and over again in his ear. My dazed, shaken body had not fully recovered from the shock of the dream and I couldn't even distinguish my thoughts from my actions.

`Forget her…forget the bitch…you have me…' I whispered again as I rubbed my entire body over his. And though my actions before had been desperate and chaste, now they were becoming lustful and urgent. I could feel him squirming around as I pushed him deeper into the mattress. My dazed mind couldn't really understand the danger of rejection…all I could think about was making sure he wants me.

`I want you…' I stated suddenly with an uncontrolled thrust of my hips. I felt him go rigid beneath me and gasp. I distantly realized I had revealed my feelings for him…and my physical attraction…

He pushed away from me in order to look at my face. I don't know what he was looking for, but I knew what I could give. I seized my opportunity and crushed my lips against his slightly parted ones. He was caught off-guard at my passion, and didn't really have a way to respond.

My eyes were closed, so I couldn't see the look of disbelief that I knew was in his eyes. Instead, I focused on making the best of it. I had never kissed before, so I had to move with instinct. I tried to do my best and keep our lips locked.

I pulled away finally and watched him. He didn't speak nor did he blink. He wasn't even breathing. Unable to contain my desire, I just dumped my face on his once more.

This time, the kiss was fiercer. Unconsciously, my hips thrust forward against his belly again, and he gasped in surprise. When he gasped, his lips opened against my mouth and my reaction was completely reflexive.

I plunged my tongue in his mouth suddenly, eliciting another gasp. I didn't do much, just let my tongue touch his a little, and then pulled back. I didn't even know what I was thinking, how was I supposed to know if I was kissing right?

I pulled back and watched him again. He was frozen on the spot, his face a mask of shock, while his lips had become that delicious, puffy red color. But that wasn't what I wanted… I wanted him to respond. I wanted him to want me.

Desperately, I ground against his body, making him gasp desperately in rhythm. I didn't even know why I had the unexplainable urge to rub against him, but the warmth of his body was just so inviting…so alive.

Slowly, I reached the collar of his t-shirt and pushed it to the side hungrily. I started trailing wet kisses on his soft, foamy throat, while he kept gasping in alert and surprise.

`Say you want me…' I pleaded in his ear, as I captured the earlobe in my lips and sucked on it - I remember it so well…the taste of his rapidly heating flesh…the taste of moonlight and faraway stars.

He was frozen `M-Mariku…' he stuttered in a voice deeper than the one I usually heard. The helpless tone went straight to my lust-crazed nerves. I couldn't stop myself; I slid my hands over his body and grabbed his hips. I wanted to make him say it again…my name…again!

`Say it! Say you want this!' I commanded in a harsher, more urgent tone. I had moved on to biting his neck with wet kisses by now, his shirt sliding down with each fiery touch. Meanwhile, I had taken a rigid grasp of his hips and had started grinding my thigh between his legs feverishly, not really focused on anything apart from the extreme heat I found there, and the way his pupils dilated, his lips wetly separating.

`I want you…to want me…' I explained painfully in his ears. `…say you'll never leave me…say you want us to be one…say you want it!'

My eyes came to coherently stare at his for the first time that night. I could see what was mirrored inside them. Hope and disbelief.

`Y-You want me…?' he asked shakily, trying to comprehend the word in combination with our fierce movements and feelings. “I…I never thought…because I don't…I…I'm not…” he stuttered insecurely, letting me know he was holding back because of his usual inhibitions.

`Show me you'll never leave me…' I choked out finally, before I plunged my head on his. I crashed my lips on his pliant ones, and this time, I immediately let my tongue slide in his mouth.

I stopped moving the rest of my body, focusing only on kissing him. When my tongue met his, I didn't pull away. I simply let it slide even deeper, tasting every corner and crevice of his mouth. When I felt him gasp against my mouth, I smiled and decisively tried to make him respond to my kiss, by lightly stroking his tongue with my own.

It was only a shy little movement at first, but it prompted me to keep trying. And then it happened. His arms wrapped around my torso and he arched himself upwards, against my body. It was so sudden -the feeling of having something melting in your arms- that I threw all caution to the wind and let my urges fly rampant, not even thinking about restraining myself. His long limbs thrust up powerfully in one sudden jerk, wrapping around my waist, and I sultrily slid my hand up the back of his thigh, forcing it tighter around me.

The limp tongue beneath my own suddenly came to life, shooting violently between my lips and hitting the top of my mouth, where it licked greedily, almost despondently.. Bakura's tongue was in my mouth. In. My. Mouth.

I think he moaned…or was it me? Whoever did it…it sounded wonderful.

His hands moved to fist inside my hair- it was unbelievable. I didn't know who was in my head anymore- me or him? Passion took over me as I pushed him further into the bed, forcing him to writhe desperately in an effort to respond. We were biting at each other lips by now- teeth clashing, tongues dueling, hands grasping at anything accessible. At some point, I was worried that he was doing this so as not to hurt my feelings…but then something happened. Totally unexpected.

`I want you too…' he whispered airily in my ear. In all the nights I had felt his breath on my fingers; it had never been as hot as this. `I've always wanted you…I just never thought you'd…I thought I'd give up…' he started, but was cut off by my lips.

I needed to taste him again. His taste of vanilla that matched his scent of green apple…it was intoxicating…His warmth…the scent…the silver threads tickling my fingers as I caressed body.

And then we made love. Slow, raw love.

Neither of us had done it before, so we didn't really know what we were supposed to be doing apart form the basics. But we did it nonetheless.

I don't know how many times we did it, or in what ways. I don't even remember. All I knew was his voice, screaming and moaning my name over and over again. I remember his body beneath mine…writhing and squirming and gripping…I tasted every single part of him, and he did the same for me. I drank form his mouth and feasted on his body, while he screamed at me that he wanted more…

I don't even know how. I don't know.

Our screams of orgasm combined were loud enough to bring the whole house to the ground. I don't know if Isis and Rishid were sleeping next door, but I couldn't care less if they heard us. Let them hear it! Our feral cries of pleasure will echo of my feelings forever…

At some point, I could smell myself on his body, and I knew that he could smell himself on me. It was the most unbelievable, unbreakable feeling. To have your beloved scream your name so instinctively at the throes of passion…to be able to smell yourself on their body…to make them open their eyes just in time to look at you before your union…

As we thrashed around spasmodically, our limbs kicked away everything, from sheets, to the lamp on my bedside table and the frame of that photo from Miami…

So many memories in this room. So many memories…I'm sure that this place will smell of our love-making forever- the cries of our desire will echo from the walls. I don't want anyone to come in this room! Only him and I. Together. Entwined. Tangled in the sheets and sated after our love. That's how it should be. That's how it IS.

When we were finished, and we had no more voice in order to scream, no more seed to spill, and no more confessions to make, I let him fall over my body in exhaustion.

I kept my hands on his thighs and stroked his legs slowly, cherishing the feeling of being able to freely caress what I have loved for so long. The feeling of our sweat-drenched bodies glued together was just overwhelming.

And so, we slept. It was dawn when we finally fell asleep, but it still qualified for the deepest slumber of my life.

This is my last entry in this book. I don't need to write about my `feelings' in a book, anymore- now I have Bakura. Anyway, this has been helpful, I guess…Maybe I'll give it to Bakura so he can find out about it…I bet we'll start making out again the moment he finishes reading it.

It's kind of hilarious…I don't know what, don't ask me…I just felt I needed to say that…Okay…well, bye. (2)

MIshtar

Marik fought to steady his trembling hands. His own, distinctive signature at the bottom of the page….It was the seal to everything…Everything was real. Very, very real.

That last page had been littered with smudges. Marik recognized them as tear drops- Bakura's tears.

And as the book dropped to the floor, away from Marik's wild body...it all started to make sense.

Bakura's lost lover…who had abandoned him for two years…

Bakura's love for the attic…and his discomfort about the old bedroom…

The fact that Bakura would not let anyone enter and sleep in that room…except Marik and himself…'entwined'…

The reason behind Bakura's addiction to alcohol and anorexia…Bakura's love for this little diary…

Oh yes, Bakura had a lost secret love all right. Marik could only imagine what ELSE had happened after that fateful night…

Marik fell on his bed and closed his eyes in desperate need to shake the guilt away.

`It was me, the whole time' he thought idly, as an unknown feeling of stale depression washed over him.

`The bastard is me'

(1): no offense girls, I don't mean this. I'm a girl too, so I don't hate my own sex! Although what I say is true about some women!)

(2): that specific phrase `it's kind of hilarious' was actually written by me. Me, as in, Nehti, speaking for myself, not Marik. I was really tired when I finished writing all of this, and I was just about ready to pass out from exhaustion. Naturally, the stupid phrase `it's kind of hilarious' came to mind, so I wrote it down automatically, not really registering what I was doing. When I realized what I'd written, I shrugged and thought `Oh, what the heck…who cares? Why not?'…and the next thing I knew, I filled it in with the rest of the phrase `I don't know what, don't ask me…I just felt I needed to say that…Okay…well, bye'...It all ended up like this: it's kind of hilarious, I don't know what, don't ask me…I just felt I needed to say that…Okay…well, bye. This statement was VERY non-fictional for me, when I was writing this, as I actually believed it.