literature

Proposal

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A soft jingle and sunlight reflected across the lightly-coloured walls of the vocalist's room as he twisted his wrist back and forth to examine the white gold bracelet that now adorned his flesh. It was a present from Aoi, not the present that he wanted, but it still brought joy to his heart to watch the gold sparkle against his skin, reflecting the sun's rays and bouncing white spots over his room. But with as much happiness as it brought to his heart, it also brought him sorrow.

Aoi was going away tomorrow.

He sat up straight and sighed, and despite the fact that Aoi was leaving so soon, Ruki was sitting alone in his bed with the television on for background noise and the radio playing to create a buzzing barrier between too many thoughts and him. Aoi was with his family tonight, celebrating his move to America, celebrating his promotion, without ever knowing that Aoi was leaving behind someone they were never introduced to.

It did not take much of an imagination to picture the woman whose picture Aoi had introduced as his grandmother joking about him getting a blue-eyed American girlfriend or the proud face of Aoi's father, a business man who had so long strived to represent his company in the field as his son was about to do. He could picture Aoi's mother and sister, a little more subdued to be losing their son and brother, but still congratulating him. Ruki had even met Aoi's mother once, but not as Aoi's boyfriend. She had seemed nice, and Ruki often wondered why Aoi had never been open with his family about them.

Maybe we should just end it, he thought softly to himself. If Aoi could not be man enough to tell his family about his boyfriend of two years, maybe Ruki was wasting his time on this whole thing.

But he loved Aoi.

Playing with the golden bracelet, he turned it around and around over his wrist as he contemplated through the droning sounds of the television and the radio. He could never go a few minutes without thinking about what Aoi could be doing, or having a small memory about something Aoi and he had done together float to the top of his mind and make him smile. When he was out with his friends, they often commented and laughed and praised him when those small smiles graced his features.

Picking up his cell, he typed a message slowly to one of those friends in the hopes that someone out there would not have plans so he could at least have some sort of company that night. Sending the message, he set the phone aside and waited for the reply. His eyes fell on the television, which was running through a newscast at that moment and he reached for the remote to change it to a movie. A red car zipped across the screen, throwing itself through a tanker which then proceeded to explode and fill the screen with burning debris—he turned the channel before shutting off the television completely. Was there nothing to distract his attention?

How could Aoi leave him?

He got out of bed and wandered into his kitchen—perhaps he could find something to cook and thus distract himself for a little while. Instead when he opened the fridge, his eyes fell on the case of beer he and Aoi had been saving for a future occasion and a single, long-necked bottle of wine. His hands floated over the wine bottle and he hefted the box of beer from the fridge and found his way to the couch. What could be a better distraction than alcohol? With all luck, he would still be in bed drunk by the time Aoi's flight took off early the next morning for California. By lunch, perhaps he will have fallen asleep by the time Aoi's last plane landed somewhere in the state of New York. By the time the hangover hit, he should be well enough depressed that it would just add a little misery to a greater misery and then he could just go buy more alcohol. It seemed like a great plan.

He popped the tab and listened to the satisfying hiss of the can as the beer inside frothed a little.

After the first few cans of beer, he set the third one down half empty and went searching for the corkscrew so he could open the delicious looking bottle of wine. When he found it, he returned to the living room and turned the television on a sort of upbeat music station and he set himself upon the bottle. With a gratifying pop the cork released and he filled a glass before he realized that it was just himself in his lonely white walled apartment and took a swig from the green tinted glass bottle. The wine was strong and tingled as it swept down his throat and tasted heavily of plum.

Ruki giggled a little when he remembered the last time Aoi and him had drank a bottle of wine together. Aoi had gotten so silly and they had cleared his living room and danced to the fast paced music on the television: those days were happy. Since Aoi had told him about his promotion to America, Ruki had had little chance to smile—had they not planned that if Aoi were to get a promotion of this kind, he would do the romantic thing and stay behind with him? Where had that gone?

He missed those dark, brooding eyes already. He missed running his hand through Aoi's short black hair after sex in the early hours of the morning to wake him. He missed Aoi's full-teeth smile. He missed the smell of coffee brewing first thing in the morning whenever Aoi stayed the night, he missed the luncheons together, the romantic dinners; he even missed the not-so-romantic fast-food dinners when they were meeting at a hectic hour between different work shifts. How was he going to survive Aoi moving to America?

Setting the empty bottle down on the table, he had to admit to himself that perhaps drinking had not been the best idea—his stomach was starting to pain and his head was hurting. He was starting to get angry as his fingers clenched the dark green edges of the couch.

He would give Aoi a job proposal. He would send him to Antarctica and see if he would sacrifice the man he called his beloved for his company then.

"Ruki-kun?"

Ruki looked up a little dazed. He had not heard the television be shut off, or even the door open, but he found himself staring into those black eyes of his lover.  Aoi looked concerned as he lifted Ruki so he was sitting back up on the couch—when had he fallen to the grey carpeted floor again?

"Why were you drinking so much by yourself? Ruki…" His tone was almost patronizing, but the love and worry also hidden there disguised it as he spoke and ran his fingers through Ruki's unwashed, bleached blonde hair.

"Don't leave me," Ruki whispered pleadingly.

"Ruki," Aoi's voice sounded just as desperate. "I love you, but I'm going tomorrow. Please don't make this harder."

"You don't love me," his voice sounded drunken and pathetic even to his own ears, but despite his shame the words fell from his lips anyway. There were tears running down his face.

Aoi seemed distraught by his proclamation and quickly took both sides of Ruki's smooth skinned face. "Don't ever say that, Ruki, don't… I love you with everything I am."

"Yeah," Ruki snapped bitterly. He would not fall for this trick again. This was how Aoi won all their arguments. He tilted his head to the side to avoid the kiss. "That's why none of your family knows about me, why you're leaving me here all by myself!"

Aoi seemed distraught by this and as he tried to lift Ruki away from the couch, Ruki made a point of fighting him off. There was no defence; Aoi said nothing that could have given Ruki a reason for doing what he accused Aoi of doing.

"When you get married to some American bitch, you'll forget about me," Ruki yelled at him while he staggered away from the couch, away from the man standing next to it in shock. "Or worse! When you come back you'll marry some nice girl to make your family happy and you'll lie to her that you had to stay at the company late and come fuck me! I won't let you in!" Somehow he found himself on the floor, where his stagger must have ended without his knowledge.

"I wouldn't, Ruki…"

"Get out of my apartment," Ruki snarled at the floor.

"This is our apartment…"

Ruki could not see the tears forming in Aoi's eyes.

*

Months have passed since I've seen you. I've got no idea if you're reading these or not, but I miss you. I think of you every day, and I'm praying for a future with you. If you're reading this, please write me back. Even an email, I worry about you so much.

"Hey, Ruki, are you coming out with us tonight?" His friend Kai asked over the phone.

"Maybe," his voice was guarded. Something within him would rather he spend the night getting drunk by himself, away from the noise and the people and the couples. He knew Kai would sense that in his tone and not ask him again—their relationship had grown closer since Aoi had left him with a wound in his chest so deep he was afraid it would spill blood if prodded.

"I'll see you soon then, maybe you can come out with the three of us to dinner sometime." Kai offered, stepping back from his earlier proposal.

"Yeah, seeya," Ruki returned before hanging up the phone and slumping back in bed. He looked at the stack of letters on his windowsill, carefully and neatly returned to their envelopes and placed carefully there. His heart hurt when he looked at them, not replied to, a reminder of what he had lost. It seemed like Aoi sent one every week, or at least they arrived that way, but Ruki could not forgive him, and at the same time could not forget him.

My contract has been lengthened by another year, but I might be able to get a vacation one day soon Ruki, and I'll be on the next flight to see you, Ruki, even if you don't want me back.

Ruki was not an idiot. He knew how Japanese companies worked, even if they were overseas. There was no way the same man who gave him up for that company would ask for time off to go back home to see him. That particular letter did not make it to the window ledge before it was shredded by hand and thrown in the trash.

With breath that smelled of alcohol, Ruki could hear himself screaming, almost from a distance to himself. His hands grabbed at the neatly stacked letters and bits of paper drifted through the air, white the feathers of angels, landing on his bed, his floor, and some in the trash. He grabbed their pillow, his pillow, and screeched into it. He threw the pillow aside and brought his fists to the wall. Nothing could satiate his anger and his pain and his lonely sorrow.

"Ruki?"

He turned his fists on the man standing in his doorway, blinded by tears of rage and fear and helplessness.

*

He was back laying in the sunlight again—how long had it been since the sun last shone for him? Worried black eyes were staring down at him as he stretched, yawned, and opened his own chocolate coloured ones, feeling empty without their usual blue sheathes. There were bruises on that tired, familiar face.

"Why—"

"Let me speak, Ru, Love, unless there's someone else?" Aoi ended his statement with more of a question. Ruki shook his head. There would never be someone else. "I quit the company, I didn't have a choice, I didn't want to go there, and I missed you so badly." Ruki could feel his heart lifting. "And I'll tell my parents, I'll make it clear that there will never be an American girl in the picture, or even a Japanese one." Ruki could feel his lungs stop working. "But you have to promise me one thing, okay?"

"W-what?"

Aoi took his hands together, kissed his cheek. "I want you to promise that you'll marry me."

For the first time in a long time, Ruki cried without a hint of sadness in his heart.
Title: Proposal

Chapter: one-shot

Fandom: Jrock, The GazettE

Genre: romance, angst, fiction,

Warnings: drunken stupors, lots of 'em

Rating: PG17

Characters: Aoi, Ruki, Kai [the GazettE]

Pairings: Aoi/Ruki

Inspiration: For my girlfriend *Saiyukigirl09 for Valentines, though I was a little late

Pages: 5

Words: 2,122

Author's Comments: It's weird to write something in which nobody dies. . . =D

Disclaimer: Don;t own the GazettE. This is a work of FICTION. Anything related to real life people or events is completely un/intentional!

Other works HERE: [link]
© 2011 - 2024 SeannaBirchwood
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