Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Stuck On You ❯ Chapter Nine ( Chapter 9 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

|~*DISCLAIMER: Yu-Gi-Oh! is the property of Kazuki Takahashi. It does not belong to
Rhapsody Moonschild and/or Tat Claire Kokoro.*~|

---

CHAPTER NINE (by Rhapsody)

Yami's POV

It pains me to hear him call me that right before he loses consciousness. Maybe I am a
bastard. But still--

I am already becoming attached to that little psycho (and using 'psycho' as an
affectionate little name). It's a little unnerving. Apparently the locking-people-up-
together thing really works. Or the pair ends up killing each other. Whichever.

I didn't want to have to hurt him, but I'm not ready to die again yet, and the frying
pan was the nearest thing at hand (strangely enough stuck down in the couch cushions,
and grossly enough growing something on it).

He will be mad at me when he awakens. Makes me a little sad. Maybe if I do something for
him he won't kill me.

Well, I think, looking at the frying pan and feeling slightly nauseous, maybe I should
clean.

I bend down and study the blonde Egyptian. He'll probably be out for a while, if that
large bump starting to appear on his forehead is any indication.

So I wander into his kitchen, praying to Ra that there are some gloves in a cabinet
there.

*

The first sign I have that Marik has awoken is a gentle kiss on the back of my neck
and arms wrapped around my waist, hands straying downward.

I stop the hands and turn to look into Marik's face. His eyes show disappointment without
true anger. Perhaps he wasn't truly angry, only frustrated and unable to express it.

"What are you doing?" he asks curiously.

I motion to the counter I am wiping. "Cleaning."

"Why?"

I scrub a little more, refusing to look up as I reply, "So maybe you won't be so mad at
me?"

It sounds really lame to my own ears. Why should I expect him to care what his kitchen
looks like? Malik probably does all the cooking.

Obviously he's thinking the same thing. Confusion appears in his violet orbs but he
blinks a couple times and nods.

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome," I mutter, my face reddening. He hugs me tighter.

I look down at the counter. I was almost done with the kitchen when he appeared, this
is the last thing. One last swipe and I am finished. I throw the rag into the laundry
pile (growing quite large by now, but I'm not going to wash his clothes) and then take
Marik's hand. I need to explain to him what I meant. Maybe he has really never seen a
truly loving relationship. And I've hidden all the pencils, so no threat from that corner
at least.

"Come here," I request, and pull him with me to the table. He sits down across from me,
looking curious but wary. For a moment my heart warms to him--he seems to have so many
emotional scars that I instinctively want to heal.

"Marik..." I say, trying to figure out how to begin and moving my legs away from his
foot, which he is running up and down my calf.

"Yes?"

"Do you know what love is?"

"Hikari loves me," he states, as if repeating something he's heard.

"But do you know what that means?"

His face contorts in deep thought as he considers. After a long minute, he shakes
his head no.

Ra, I have my work cut out for me.

"Marik, love is... wanting someone else to be happy more than wanting yourself happy,"
I say. "It's caring more for their well-being than yours."

He gives me a curious look. "Love is sex. Sex is love. What's this about happiness?"

Honestly, sometimes he has a child's mentality. I bite down my irritation at his
denseness and reach out and take his hand. Perhaps he'll listen better.

"Love is not always sex, and sex is not always love," I say softly. "They're two
separate things sometimes. We have had sex, but we're not in love."

"I don't understand," Marik says in an annoyed tone. I can see irritation rising in
his eyes. I stroke his forearm and he calms a little.

I still have no idea how to explain this. I'm stumbling in the dark. Finally I say,
"You don't know what love is until you feel it. You say Malik loves you?"

He nods. "I am his darkness. I am his God." And his eyes darken for a second and I
realize how psychotic he can really be. He has an incredibly alien mindset.

"What does Malik do for you that means he loves you?" I ask, trying to figure out where
he gets the idea of being worshipped.

"Everything I need. Except sex." He frowns for a minute. This is obviously a
repetitive argument with his light.

"He wants you to be happy, so he does these things," I suggest.

"He wants not to see his blood, so he does these things," Marik says with a demented
smile. He draws a knife I had forgotten he had and runs his finger along the blade...
Whatever else Malik cleans he doesn't clean this knife. That's probably his dried blood
along the blade. Also Bakura's.

The knife is a visual shock and Marik's words still worse. I thought I wanted a true
relationship with this yami, but is that even possible?

I can't talk to him about love, I don't think. I don't believe he'd understand. I have
felt love; I know the contentment and warmth of a companion. Yugi loves me, and it's not
out of fear.

I don't know how to tell Marik this, so silently I rise from the table and walk away. I
can't leave still, but I go into Malik's room and close the door, sit down on the bed.

Because of frustration and anger and this love I feel growing that the loved cannot
understand... Because of this, I cry.