Urban Hymns

Touya/Syaoran. PG.
The line between love and hate is thin. Are you man enough to cross it?
(part 01 of T/S universe)
2000 | 1340 words

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I used to hate him. I used to hate him, his eyes, his voice - everything about him.

I hated how he adored Sakura, and tried so desperately to protect her from me, like I could be someone to do her any harm, to ever treat her wrong.

I truly hated him. I hated the way he was everything I could not be, the way he had everything I could never have. He had everything I wanted, and I had nothing. He was a perfect man and I was just a kid. I was a bad excuse for a confused boy. But it turned out in the end that he was right. That he should have hated me too, for I ended up being all the things he thought I would come to be. I turned out to be a coward, a weak infatuated child, while he was always the opposite.

I never had the guts to tell Sakura that I loved her (or so I thought). I told her that I liked her and that she was the most important person to me and, from this, she took her own conclusions. But I never really told her. Instead, I told her to wait.

To wait for me.

She promised me she would, but I failed with her. I told her to wait and I left her there. I went back home and decided to let time set things right. I believed that if we were meant to be, fate wouldn’t let me down. I still believed in fate back then. I believed that she would wait for me for as long as I took. I was so naive. Naive enough to think that she would wait forever.

She didn’t. Touya didn’t let her. By the time I got back in Tomoeda and found out the truth, I hated him. Once again, I hated him. I hated him for loving his sister enough to not allow her to wait forever for someone who wasn’t worth it. I hated him for being clever and seeing it through me that I wouldn’t come back, that I would make her sit there and die alone, for I was a coward. I didn’t deserve what she was offering me.

I used to hate him.

So why is he the only thing I can think of, the only reason why I’m still in this country? Why is it that I follow him around, watching him playing and studying and working and still being so goddam perfect? When have I become so obsessed with him? When has my hate turned into desire?

Have I ever truly hated him?

I don’t know. Some people say that hating is just another way of loving. I don’t believe that. Well, I don’t know what to believe in anymore. How could we come from deadly enemies to friends? How can I be sitting here in front of him, watching him smile at me, when no more than some years ago he would have rather see me dead than near his house? Why is it that he treats me so well now when I always thought he hated me for hurting his sister?

Has he ever truly hated me?

I don’t know and, right now, I’m about to say that he doesn’t either. We don’t know anymore. We don’t know why we share an apartment. We don’t know why we seem to get along so fine. Maybe it’s our tempers. Touya and I are much like each other, proud and even arrogant sometimes. The difference is, and will always be, that he’s perfect. And I’m just a guy. A weak infatuated guy.

I used to hate the way he looked at me, the way his impossibly blue eyes pierced me like flaming needles. I used to hate the way he spoke, the way his voice was always throaty and male. Now I crave for his looks, I die for a glance from him, I adore every tone of his words.

I used to hate him, but now I love him.

I love him every second we’re together, talking, joking, laughing, being what we are. I love him every second we’re in silence, thinking, wandering, watching, wanting, fumbling towards each other.

I watch him watching me. I sit on the porch and stare at him sprawled in the couch, staring back at me. And I wait for him. I wait and wait, wishing for the day he’s gonna be the perfect man he’s always been, come to me and tell me all the things I should have told her then. All the things I should tell him now.

But I can’t. Because I am weak, and he’s strong. I sit and wait, and he’s the one who acts. It’s always been like this. That’s why he’s always had everything he wanted, and I never had anything. The two loves I’ve been offered, I have turned back. Because I was afraid, because I was a coward. Because I was child.

But I’m not a child anymore. I’m not afraid anymore. He taught me that, he showed me how to be strong and how to fight for what I want. I owe him that, and he is what I want. But still I can’t move. Still I can’t find the guts to wake up from my daydream and just go there. Just tell it to his face, just give us a change. Just tell him that I love him.

I’ll sit here and wait, loving him for being himself, and hating him for making me wait. For making me taste the medicine I made two wonderful girls taste. And suddenly I realise.

He won’t come.

He won’t come this time. He didn’t let his sister be weak, and he won’t let me be weak as well. He won’t let me be forever the poor misunderstood boy… he doesn’t pity me. I’m surprisingly grateful for that. I’m thankful for not being worth his pity because, if I was, he would hate me. He hates weak people.

I’ll go there. I’ll do it. I don’t know if I’m worthy of what he’s offering me, but I don’t care anymore. I’ll just go there.

Now.

His eyes widen the slightest bit as he sees me standing up and crossing the room, reaching for him. He wasn’t expecting me to do this, not today. Not now. Maybe not ever. He sits up, those ocean eyes never leaving mine as I kneel in front of him, sit on my feet and stammer, searching for the right words to say what I’ve never been able to say before. It won’t come out. I can’t.

He nods, understanding. He knows what a big step it was for me just to come till here. He smiles and tells me that it’s okay, I don’t have to do this. But I have to. I have to, or for the third time in my life I’ll be wasting a precious opportunity I’m being given. I have to, but I can’t.

So I decide to take the easy wait out. I take the deepest breath my lungs can stand and reach a hand to his face. And the other. And I bring him close and I show him what I cannot say.

My lips touch his and my heart skips a million beats. He hesitates for longer than I’d want him to, then kisses me back.

And I think I’m gonna die. I think I could die right here, right now. I would die happy, if I died with his lips upon mine, with his tongue moving in slow circles inside my mouth, with his hands holding me tight against his perfect being, our dark bangs mixing in strange patterns.

I’d die smiling on the inside. Smiling and feeling stronger than I’ve ever been, because I’m not weak anymore. I’m not strong either, but I’m making my way. He’s showing me the way, every day we’re together.

I used to hate him.

Or maybe I have always only loved him.

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