Fall Apart Chapter Six: Bottom Of The Glass
'I left my conscience like a crying child, I need love, Not some sentimental prison, I need fire to melt the frozen place inside me, I need love.'
(Sam Phillips- I Need Love)
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Now that the light had begun to wane and the last damp streaks of water had long dried upon Shinya's porcelain skin Yoshiki decided to invade his reluctant guest's reverie once more. But as he stood, in the lengthening shadows cast through his balcony windows, watching the city outside slowly falling asleep nothing could guide his steps toward Shinya's room. For the first time in many months there was only one person on his mind, his memory still lingering like a subtle perfume. His voice ringing in the faltering silence, strong and clear, but just a cruel echo in truth.
"Yoshiki-san."
"H-hai?" Lifting his gaze from the dissolving town below, Yoshiki fixed his slight, relieved smile on Shinya. The petite man was fully dressed now. His burgundy blouse and simple black trousers pressed to perfection, a vague scent of summer meadows reaching out it's tendrils toward him.
Ice blue eyes were downcast and the pallor of his untouched face spoke volumes. Yoshiki was drawn back into his old role almost immediatly, a sudden rush of compassion for his lost protégé, so familiar.......
"I wanted to thank you again....." Shinya murmured, the soft lilt of his voice stoking something deep within the older man's breast and shaking his self-assurance not for the first time.
But his reply was spoken with the firmest of convictions and overwrought with the confidence that had been stolen from him ever since a rain filled day in May.
"Really, it's fine. Hey dya want something to eat? Ya gotta be starvin by now ne?" He clamped a hand down on Shinya's gaunt shoulder, pushing him toward the kitchen before any protests could be vocalised from the little drummer.
Fifteen minutes later they both sat beside the fire, a tray of assorted snacks overflowing onto the pristine carpet and a six-pack of beer perspiring over Yoshiki's expensive Persian rug. Shinya crossed his thin legs, tucking them neatly out of the way as he nibbled on a small peanut brittle cake extracted from the pile of fattening delicacies Yoshiki had found in his well stocked cupboards.
Yoshiki himself was prying open the first of the beers, an American import that Heath swore by. He took a long swig, regarding the label with approving eyes, before offering Shinya one of the other bottles. The blonde shook his head, swallowing the last of the sweet cracker, "I don't drink." He muttered embarrassedly.
Yoshiki's mouth gaped slightly and he popped the cap with one deft flick of his wrist, thrusting the bottle into Shinya's hands and gazing at him expectantly, "We'll soon change that- go on, you look like you need it."
Shinya looked down at the slim necked bottle warily- Remembering the night that put him off alcohol in any amount and left him with vomit stains on a particularly beloved jacket courtesy of Kaoru.
Yoshiki took another quick mouthful of beer, savouring the taste before gazing back at Shinya, a little warning beacon in the back of his mind telling him this might not be a great idea. He ignored it entirely.
(Hide drunk....I'm sure he did....I'd have thought Yoshiki wouldn't want me to......but....he might think I'm....)
With a barely audible sigh Shinya lifted the bottle to his lips and tilted his head back, letting the bitter liquid slide effortlessly down his throat. It didn't hold the same charring warmth as the spirits Camui Gackt had introduced him to, only a plainer, softer aftertaste. He gave Yoshiki a tiny, self-conscious smile and was relieved to see the rock veteran's echo of his expression, highlighted in the honeyed glow of the fire. He winked, picking a single strawberry from the tray, without breaking the bondage of their eyes and slipped it slowly between his lips.
And Shinya was once again grateful for the darkness, and how easily it could conceal his reactions.
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The bottom of the glass held all the answers, this time as it had done for so many nights and days stretching back into the dim past. Nestled deep within the bosom of a smoke filled bar. It's tables bursting with shill voiced women, their skirts too short and morals long forgotten, Men in sharp suits that were a glossy veneer to their real dealings and younger souls who had gotten caught and dragged down into this shaded existence.
A figure fitted seamlessly with the washed out light, the seedy atmosphere, so drowned in sex and on the knife edge of violence. His hair hung in limp streaks over eyes that saw nothing, but the font of knowledge, the amber liquid staining the cracked tumbler held tight in his shaken embrace.
The barman had given him his limit hours ago and now Kaoru nursed this last drink like a dying relative, it was his defence against the cold.
"It's made for drinkin ya know?" A voice broke the steady stream of morbid thoughts coursing through his tired brain and someone settled on the stool at his side, leaning half over the bar to yell his order. The obese and sweat stained bar-keep slid a tiny shot glass in the stranger's direction and he caught it easily, barely glancing at the dark green contents before downing it in one.
"Whoa...that's the good shit." He exclaimed with a wheezy cough, slamming the glass down on the greasy bar.
Kaoru turned away slightly, hoping that he could look miserable and pathetic enough for the annoying voice to disappear.
He could feel eyes pawing over him, eating up every little detail and licking the plate clean.
"What's a pretty thing like you doing alone in a place like this??" The speaker laughed loudly, and it was as if a thousand wind chimes had been set in to motion simultaneously, but still Kaoru could not bring himself to look up.
"I'm sorry- How corny was that?? I mean, why are you on your own?? This ain't exactly the place to be moping." He heard a second scrape of crystal against wood, the man's next drink on it's way.
"Lemme guess??"
Kaoru remained silent, realising that his ignorance was wasted on this person.
"Troubles in love right?? I'm so right- I can see it now- You've been dumped ne?"
"Something like that." Kaoru muttered blackly, taking a frustrated sip from his drink, his only comfort in the numbing haze that was descending upon him finally.
"AH! I knew it.......I don't see how anyone could dump you tho....I mean yum, but anyway- not the point ne? You gotta fight for this kinda crap......" The bright tone, rising high above the crowds garbled conversations suddenly lost it's volume.
"You, have to try, you know....to make things work when you love someone....no matter what happens.....you can't give up."
It was as if everyone faded with his words, the club died down to a meaningless cliché that he had found himself in and Kaoru's silence, although unbroken was filled now with a faint flicker of possibilities. He couldn't be sure if it was the pain suffocating the young man's voice, the fleeting pauses where he remembered something.....spoke from an experience that seemed to run endlessly deep.
He looked up , through a mess of mauve bangs, "I-"
But, the stranger was already gone......a pair of empty glasses his only heirloom.
As Kaoru swept the long, narrow room with his gaze, eyes drawn to the door he could have sworn he saw a flash of cerise from outside the window.
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