Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Untouchable ❯ Untouchalbe ( Prologue )

I stare at your pale creamy skin, the white hair framing it. Your deep brown eyes are closed in slumber, and all the better. Were you to awake, you would see me staring, shun me for my feelings.

Bakura, why do I have to feel this way? Why must my heart give an involuntary flutter every time I see you, and why must I shove that flutter back deep down into my soul? Why must I be tortured like this? You barely consider us friends; we could never be any more. So why is it that one smile from you, however sadistic, melts my calculating mind into a pile of mush?

Why must all humans be faced with this treacherous emotion, this love? And, again, why is it that love is so often not returned? It seems that true happiness will evade me forever. I, Malik Ishtar, am not meant to be happy, not with you or anyone else.

You stir, and open your chocolate eyes. Quickly, I turn away, hoping you did not catch me staring.

"Malik? Is something wrong?"

"No," I lie smoothly, "Nothing's wrong." I even manage an almost-smile, albeit one tinged with tragedy.

You believe me. I am so skilled at lying, I knew you would. I am sorry that I must lie to you, but you see, it is for the best. Slowly, you drift back to sleep, head resting on the arm of the couch. Lightly, I place my purple cloak over you, hoping you won't notice the extra weight. You smile a light smile in your sleep, a smile so unlike any I have ever seen on your face.

It is a gentle smile, and that captivates me, keeps me staring, standing there with my hand inches above your shoulders. It seems, in the moonlight filtering through the window, that you are a heavenly creature, almost an angel, one fallen from above.

I smile bitterly to myself. You, an angel. I have had all these thoughts so many times, and yet have been unwilling to admit, even to myself, that I love you. I don't even know if I do. Love is an alien emotion to me.

One would think I loved my sister, to some degree. Why? It is only blood that ties us. It's almost as wit Marik. Our only bond is the Millennium Rob. And though he may, in a sense, reside in my mind, I hate him. All those and my ties to them are nothing compared to that bond of emotion, truth, clarity, and -dare I say it?- love that binds me to you.

Still my hand hovers, so close to the soft skin of cheek, close enough to touch, so close and yet so far. I must not reach down and touch you. I don't want to lose what small bit of friendship we share. Even so, it gets harder and harder every day. What gets harder? Having to keep from reaching out and touching you, holding you, kissing you, sweeping you off your feet and telling you that I miss after only a minute of being apart.

Realizing I can't hold in my flood of emotions any longer, at least not where I am, close to you, I turn around, and walk out the door.

You are untouchable, unattainable, and unreal. I walk out of the apartment, and onto the street. I try to keep my mind off of you, but I know that it's not really what I want. It's thinking of you that keeps me balanced, keeps me straining towards my goals, keep me alive, in a sense.

I realize too late that my cloak is back in the apartment, and that it is a cold night. The chill wind stings my bare arms, but it doesn't matter. Nothing can become as cold as the part of my heart that needs you, that part I've been trying so desperately to suppress, to stifle. And it's all for nothing, because now I only need you more than ever. Something physically collapses as I walk further from the apartment, from you.

I'm walking on the street. I hear a far distant car coming. My ears don't even prick up. It's nothing to worry about. Headlights play across the ground at my feet, and I slowly look up. The car is mere inches away from me, and the driver doesn't seem to notice me.

The car collides with my body, the impact almost splitting me in half at the waist. The car doesn't stop. It drives over me and keeps going in the opposite direction, as if nothing happened.

Talk about hit and run, my mind says, trying to give a small bit of amusement to my final moment. For this is what they are. There is no way I can survive from the loss of all this blood.

One face flashes before my dimming vision. It's you, Bakura. Now my feelings will go to the grave with me, and you'll never have to know, never have to suffer. Goodbye, my dear Bakura.

As the last life drains form me, I hear your voice, whether in my mind of in reality, I cannot say which.

"Malik… Malik… no…" the voice whispers, seemingly cracked with impending tears. Then all is quiet, dark. I really did love you, my untouchable angel.