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Even The Good Things Don’t Last

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His heart was guarded and his eyes reflected its chill. His stare was sharp and unforgiving but could be warm and reflect affection. His fists were harsh and strength rivaled by no one, however his hands were capable of the barest of touches, the gentlest of gestures. 

His hair was drenched in fire and irises bluer than the sky. Deeper than the ocean herself. Shined brighter than the sun. Lips set in a permanent smile full of confidence and perhaps even a little smugness. If it weren’t for the blood splattered on his cheeks or the blade glinting in his fist Kunikida would think this man an angel.

But no, he was a demon. A beautiful demon with a laugh that made Kunikida’s heart flutter and warmth swirl in his chest. A demon trailed by death, path colored in blood. He was merciless but not free of values. Life was worth something to him despite how easily he stole it. 

Alcohol blurred his vision, numbed his thoughts, left him with only desire. Desire for lips curled in a permanent confident smile tinted with smugness. Desire to glimpse his heart which was hidden behind layers and layers of stone. Desire to touch hair drenched in flames curled over a strong shoulder. Desire to count every fleck of nuanced blue in those eyes capable of seeming sharper than a knife but also softening to the point of being akin to silk. Desire to taste that laugh that filled him with warmth and chased away the loneliness.

Desire that got stronger and harder to ignore until he just didn’t care anymore. Desire that was easily returned. Desire which landed them together lost in bed sheets, panting breaths, and rough kisses.  His body fitted so perfectly to Kunikida’s own he’d almost believed for a second that this was meant to be. That their paths crossed for a reason. That neither belonged anywhere but beside the other. 

But all good things like this. Explosive things like this. Incredible, hot, and wonderful things like this don’t last. Not for the lack of trying. But rather because they were always doomed to live short lives. His lover doomed to be consumed by madness and not come back from it.

Skin that was once porcelain stained black with death. 

Eyes which once had depth more intense than the sea herself flat. The light carved out. Too grey to resemble the sky except on the day in which he was placed beneath the earth. 

Hair limp and no longer drenched in flames which curled over his shoulder. 

Heart silent and cold. 

Smile gone, never to return. 

Laughter silent, never to curl warmly around his heart and press against his lips again.

Even demons weren’t impervious to death’s touch. And devastatingly enough Chuuya had been no exception. 

The apology for leaving Kunikida still rang in his ears. Louder in his head than the laughter, louder than the words of affection that Chuuya had occasionally given him, louder than the cackles of insanity and screams of agony, louder than the rain that fell around him even as every one else left. Kunikida alone standing before a grave, droplets running down his back. Green eyes fixed on Chuuya who was seated comfortably atop it’s cement surface. Legs crossed in a position which defied gravity. 

“I’m free.” The illusion said and Kunikida nodded. 

“Where’s Chuuya?” He asked, well aware that whatever stared back at him with eyes that weren’t quite the right color and lips pulled into a smile that didn’t sit at quite the right angle wasn’t his deceased lover, that this creature was the true demon. It was the calamity which had snuffed out his lover’s life. 

The smile morphed into a grin and he said, “You’ll see.” 

Kunikida’s vision was swallowed by darkness and all he could hear was maniacal laughter mixed the patter of raindrops.