and She Said (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bloodied_quill) wrote,@ 2006-01-26 18:05:00 |
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Title: Roses
Category: fan fiction, one-shot
Genre: dark/reflective
Rating: PG-13
Date: January 4-26, 2006
Written for![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
30_kisses
Theme: #19 - Red
Pairing: hyde and Megumi (L'Arc~en~Ciel)
Disclaimer: I do not own/am not affiliated with L’Arc~en~Ciel, Sony Ki/oon, Danger Crue, hyde, Megumi, etc. This is a work of complete fiction. It’s for fun; I’m not going to make any money off of this. However, this particular story is my own writing, so please do not claim it as yours or repost it without permission.
Warnings: Suicide. Real-life pairing
Word Count: 491
POV: First person (Megumi)
Roses are red, violets are blue
I’m so sorry; please know that I love you.
You wrote the damn thing in English.
Why, Hideto? Why, when you knew I wouldn’t understand?
I smiled at the single rose lying on the kitchen table. And I saw the note underneath. But our little boy was sleepy and I tucked him into bed, kissing his soft hair before I gave it another thought.
You’d gotten one with the thorns left on. And I pricked my finger.
I couldn’t yet see the irony of my blood dripping red or the red.
I licked it away and put the flower in a vase, all the while staring at the note with a look of confusion on my face.
I understood sorry. I understood love. And I had no idea what it was for.
I carried it into our room and set it down on the nightstand so I’d remember to ask you about it later. I fussed around for a bit trying to decide if I’d put on pajamas, finally deciding that I wanted a shower first.
I don’t know why you drew the curtain, Hideto. Our son never would have walked into our bathroom. Never.
So I stood there, undressed and ready to get in, and there I saw you.
It didn’t take any real thought to understand—no, not understand, because I’ll never understand—to realize what you’d done.
And I couldn’t yet see the irony in that you seemed faintly blue.
I bit my lip until I could taste blood--and I’d realize much later that I never actually paused to feel the pain of that cut--as I tried in desperation to get you down, shutting off the rational side of me that had already given up, was already crying.
But that side resurfaced when I found myself fumbling in vain with the knot. And in the real scheme of things, that never mattered, because it was too late before I’d even gotten in the door.
But it mattered to me. To get you down, take you off some sick display.
The paramedics had to do that much. If nothing else, your determination shone through in the strength of that knot. You weren’t leaving any chance of it being undone.
They at least let me stop crying before asking me all the questions I would have expected if I had been in any state of mind to think that far ahead. And it was cut and dry. Another high-profile suicide. Another field day for the magazines. Another mid life crisis gone too far.
There was no red sports car to warn me, no sudden late nights at the studio any more than you always had, nothing I would have taken as a warning. And I don’t know what was missing for you. And you couldn’t see fit to tell me.
Maybe I should be happier for not knowing.
Maybe it was me.
(please comment if you read)
Requests are open here.
Category: fan fiction, one-shot
Genre: dark/reflective
Rating: PG-13
Date: January 4-26, 2006
Written for
30_kissesTheme: #19 - Red
Pairing: hyde and Megumi (L'Arc~en~Ciel)
Disclaimer: I do not own/am not affiliated with L’Arc~en~Ciel, Sony Ki/oon, Danger Crue, hyde, Megumi, etc. This is a work of complete fiction. It’s for fun; I’m not going to make any money off of this. However, this particular story is my own writing, so please do not claim it as yours or repost it without permission.
Warnings: Suicide. Real-life pairing
Word Count: 491
POV: First person (Megumi)
Roses are red, violets are blue
I’m so sorry; please know that I love you.
You wrote the damn thing in English.
Why, Hideto? Why, when you knew I wouldn’t understand?
I smiled at the single rose lying on the kitchen table. And I saw the note underneath. But our little boy was sleepy and I tucked him into bed, kissing his soft hair before I gave it another thought.
You’d gotten one with the thorns left on. And I pricked my finger.
I couldn’t yet see the irony of my blood dripping red or the red.
I licked it away and put the flower in a vase, all the while staring at the note with a look of confusion on my face.
I understood sorry. I understood love. And I had no idea what it was for.
I carried it into our room and set it down on the nightstand so I’d remember to ask you about it later. I fussed around for a bit trying to decide if I’d put on pajamas, finally deciding that I wanted a shower first.
I don’t know why you drew the curtain, Hideto. Our son never would have walked into our bathroom. Never.
So I stood there, undressed and ready to get in, and there I saw you.
It didn’t take any real thought to understand—no, not understand, because I’ll never understand—to realize what you’d done.
And I couldn’t yet see the irony in that you seemed faintly blue.
I bit my lip until I could taste blood--and I’d realize much later that I never actually paused to feel the pain of that cut--as I tried in desperation to get you down, shutting off the rational side of me that had already given up, was already crying.
But that side resurfaced when I found myself fumbling in vain with the knot. And in the real scheme of things, that never mattered, because it was too late before I’d even gotten in the door.
But it mattered to me. To get you down, take you off some sick display.
The paramedics had to do that much. If nothing else, your determination shone through in the strength of that knot. You weren’t leaving any chance of it being undone.
They at least let me stop crying before asking me all the questions I would have expected if I had been in any state of mind to think that far ahead. And it was cut and dry. Another high-profile suicide. Another field day for the magazines. Another mid life crisis gone too far.
There was no red sports car to warn me, no sudden late nights at the studio any more than you always had, nothing I would have taken as a warning. And I don’t know what was missing for you. And you couldn’t see fit to tell me.
Maybe I should be happier for not knowing.
Maybe it was me.
(please comment if you read)
Requests are open here.
