"talking to the moon," bruno mars

__

At night when the stars

Light up my room

The warm evening sheen was broken through by pinpricks of light in the sky above. A previously orange and red-streaked skyline had been enshrouded by a mass of cumulonimbus and replaced with a dark lavender color. The wonders the night held came out to play as thousands of stars glittered overhead and the large, yellow moon revealed itself, perched just beyond a small cluster of clouds.

As the wind rustled the treetops and sent the birds fluttering up into the velvet horizon, the melancholic sound of crickets chirped through the air, filling the atmosphere with blithe indifference. I could feel the spirits of those in the estate relax, as the covert nuance that was the joyousness we all radiated calmed our aggressive souls and tamed them into happy pups.

It was funny how much tedium such a wonderful setting could bring me.

__

When the world was asleep, I was awake.

My footsteps made no sound on the soft grass as I crept towards a small pond in the estate. As the tips of my toes touched the ground, tickled by the lawn, my chest rose and fell at a slow tempo. The quietness that enveloped the night was comforting, yet I felt dissonance rise in my mind. Perhaps it was because the magnitude of sound my thoughts held created an imbalance in the would-be perfect moment.

Arriving at the edge of the pond, I stared down into the silvery liquid, watching as its surface gently rippled as a small breeze blew through the air. It tousled my hair ever so gingerly, making waves of my locks. Moonshine glinted on the body of water, causing it to sparkle like never before. My irises reflected the image of the stars that were imprinted onto the pond, shining so magnificently that someone could mistake them for tiny lanterns in the midst of complete darkness. Tilting my head up towards the sky, the edges of my lips started to curl upwards as I caught sight of the wonders that littered space's being.

It was a beautiful thing.

But why weren't any emotions stirring within me?

I sit by myself

Talking to the moon

Heaving a heavy sigh, the smile slowly melted off of my face after I blinked a couple of times. I felt conflicted. There was always this odd feeling that would curtail any positive emotion I had. A certain emptiness would overtake me and I would be left feeling hollow. It happened so frequently that I was just a baby step away from thinking that being happy would be an atrophy. If I couldn't feel the bubbly sensation in my stomach, or feel butterflies flapping their light wings in my heart, what was the point?

It wouldn't last, anyways. The emotion was so ephemeral, that I saw no point in even feeling that way in the first place. Of course, I could've just pretended that I was carefree or untroubled, but that was perfunctory, and it also had no purpose.

Perhaps I was rambling. Maybe it didn't matter all too much. When I didn't even know the reason for this strange phenomenon, I shouldn't have dwelled on it for so long. It could've been a sign from the universe for me to direct my attention to something other than irrelevant and silly matters. Giving a soft groan, my eyes flickered down to the water again. The light that came from it now had a banal glow, as clouds had set over the moon, obstructing it from my view.

Ah, of course. What was I hoping for?

My shoulders sank and I finally took a seat on the ground. If only I had the will to ruminate about these matters instead of directly accepting them without a second thought, there would've been the possibility that all these problems I had would be solved. But even though I had no foresight into the future, I knew that my nature wouldn't change. I was never the receptive type. There was no hope.

I was so blind.

So I began to cry.

Fat droplets of water rolled down the sides of my face, dripping down my chin as tears spouted from my eyes. They made their journey from the corners of my eyelids to the bottom of my cheeks, trickling further from their origin, and closer to the ground. My skin flushed and became hot to the touch and my arms shook, hands curled up into little fists. Not once did I falter, or abstain from the actions my brain was feeding my body, but I soon realized that despite my physical reactions, there was no turmoil boiling inside of me.

Through all of this, I made no attempt to wipe my tears away, or furrow my brows. Tears just started to leak and pour down my face at random. I didn't curse at my own pestilence or weakness, nor did I begin to feel exasperated at my lack of stability. The only effect of crying I could truly feel was the sensation of my stamina being drained.

What was the purpose? What was the reason?

Was I crying just to cry, or was I feeling something else? Did I want to fight it?

But no matter how hard I thought, I could only accept the outcome in the end.

Like an idiot.

Tryin' to get to you

In hopes you're on

The other side

Talking to me too

My ears perked up as soon as I felt a figure approaching, but I didn't look at who it was.

I knew already.

His sudden presence seemed repugnant. Of course, I couldn't hear his footsteps, but I could sense him -- him and all of his brooding. As he took a seat next to me, I turned my head away with my gaze downcast. The moment had turned a lot more misgiving than I initially hoped it would be. I wished to be alone, but at the same time I would've stopped him if he had stood up again.

Why were my own emotions an enigma, even to me?

"I had a feeling you would be here." I hated the feeling of his eyes bearing into the back of my skull. "You weren't at dinner." Though my heart filled with disdain and I lacked effusiveness to respond, I sighed and somehow managed to reply.

"I wanted to be left alone." The figure besides me kept staring as if I were some odd, alien creature that had just crawled out of a shell. My teeth tugged at my bottom lip as I grew more and more aware of the fact that he'd figured out my lie. Willing myself to take a deep breath and look back at him, my earnest eyes met his dull ones and I forced a smile. As my heart hurt and throbbed painfully in my chest, I smiled with all the courage I could muster.

"I just wanted to be left alone," I repeated. It sounded like I wanted to convince even myself that this whole scene had nothing to do with the fact that I was empty inside. There was something forlorn about the way I twiddled my fingers, and pitiful about the way my eyes were half-lidded.

But of course, I'd already accepted this long ago, as I did with everything horrible that came my way. Maybe it was because I didn't have the energy to fight anymore. If I hadn't been so empty inside, things would have turned out differently. I wouldn't be this ghost of a person, bound to the Earth by their physical form. These situations wouldn't be so poignant and pernicious to my mind.

When I lifted my gaze after a few moments of thinking, I was met with faded blue eyes. His eyes. His dark navy irises that held a firm resolution about them -- yet I knew that in his mind there were so many swirling thoughts that it was nearly impossible to cherry-pick one of them from the mess that was the pileup. I tentatively returned his stare, feeling just a little bit meeker in his presence.

"I want to be left alone," I whispered, "Please, leave me alone." Yet the figure never left. His azurlean eyes kept themselves trained on me like a hawk, almost to the point where it seemed that he seemed sympathetic. My hand trembled and I finally broke the staredown, vehemently huffing and twisting my head away. The hashira next to me relaxed a bit, his posture growing less stiff and unwelcoming. He wrapped his fingers around mine and gave a small, sad, sigh.

Or am I a fool

Who sits alone

Talking to the moon

"No you don't."

Then Giyuu leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.

I felt butterflies.

I felt his free hand brush the side of my cheek, cupping it in his palm as we kissed. My skin flared with a bright red hue, almost unnoticeable in the pale moonlight, but it was hot to the touch, which collided with the cold feel of Giyuu's fingertips. His lips captured mine and all was well in the world. His hand tightened around mine and he pulled me closer to deepen our lip-lock.

I could taste the regret that lingered on his tongue.

But it didn't stop me from loving him.

Once we separated, we embraced each other like we were living our last days on Earth.

His arms wrapped around my shoulders and his lips whispered honey-coated words into my ears. And all I could do was accept it just how it was. I wanted to scream and cry, then sob for forever into the sleeve of his kimono. His actions were so sincere I could pound my fists into his backside and protest at how disgusting they were.

I was a mess. A horrid mess.

I didn't know what my thought process was, and I hated myself for that.

But it seemed as if I didn't need one with Giyuu.

Because he was here when I was empty. He came and he filled my soul with yellow carnations and the sweetest smelling lavender. The bees and butterflies feasted on the blooms every so happily, their iridescent wings fluttering inside my heart.

So this was the way he made me feel.

Perhaps he could give me some form of absolution.

I laughed with a shaky smile and buried my face into the crook of his neck.

"I missed you." Giyuu patted the back of my head and sighed softly.

"I know."