InsaneJournal

iii:

He’s a wandering Savior. He hides from the rest of the universe, because he fears his own powers. He’s the embodiment of Destruction, so he isn’t allowed to roam around freely, as though there are invisible strings holding him in his place.

Apparently, somebody else thinks otherwise. That somebody appears to him during the nights, only in the dreams, and then the Other vanishes. Fayt wakes up, sweating slightly, fingers fisting against the thin blankets. He gazes at the candle near him, watching the candlelight flicker as though spellbound by it.

Those dreams make him dizzy. He doesn’t want to sleep anymore.

xiii:

He says to himself that being alone like this, going around from place to place furtively is for the better, but he has never felt so lonely. He hears about the others so often, about how successful they are. No spells or wishes has make them like that; they - except himself - are able to truly survive because they have others to support them.

He? Instead of just saying it, he believes it. Believes that he’ll die alone, because everybody has left him. Believes that nobody cares for him because everything in his world now is so distorted and confusing. He can’t figure out who to trust, who to love, and who to save.

He’s shadow of his former self.

xv:

“No matter where you go, you’ll always be treated the way you were meant to be treated in the first place,” that familiar voice practically purrs to his ear, and he’s having a hard time ignoring it, because he knows that it’s true. This voice has been bothering him ever since he has started his own journey…

If only he has a silencing spell though. He can silence that voice and himself forever. No more wandering, no more thinking and musing. He’s not suicidal. He knows he’s much stronger than that.

He just wants to get some restful sleep.

ix:

This is how he tries to get some sleep anyway. He first goes to a random tavern, and just drinks water. He watches all sorts of people come in, socialize, get drunk, possibly have sex, and then get out. And then, when he feels ill for so many reasons he can’t explain, he orders some sort of wine.

The wine gets him drunk so fast; his body is not used to it.

Hours seem to pass, and somehow, he ends up on somebody’s bed.

He doesn’t know who the other person is.

v:

He gets a message from Sophia and he looks at his communicator, seeing her face. She looks healthy and happy, as though she has finally received her happy ending, and he hasn‘t.

A part of him feels kind of envious. How long can he go on like this? In the beginning of his - their - adventures, he was hesitant, and then adventurous and then bold. Now, he has transformed into a different kind of person, someone who he does not like at all.

iv:

“Are you still in denial?”

“No,” he answers. “What are you doing in my head?”

“I’m not in your head-- you’re not dreaming. You’re awake.”

“What-- what do you mean?” And he opens his eyes, looking at glacial ones, and gasps in surprise. “I thought you were dead.”

“You thought wrong,” the blond says with a smile, tracing Fayt’s bottom lip with the tip of his finger. That’s when Fayt realizes the kind of position they are in; the blond is straddling his waist, and he is not dressed in his majestic attire that makes him look like a god. He looks so normal now, especially with the black slacks and a black shirt. Fayt, on the other hand, is still in his regular clothes.

He wonders if this is some kind of revenge.

Luther looks like the others around this place.

“How long have you been lurking around here?” Fayt asks, because he’s being paranoid, and there’s a sick part of him who is curious and wonders whether Luther’s the guy who he has bedded with. How wrong that is, though? Luther is his enemy.

“But everyone is your enemy, Fayt,” Luther says with another smile, albeit a cynical one.

“You… you can read my thoughts,” Fayt says in shock. Luther has that hungry look on his face, meant to conquer and exploit. No, he will not be used like a weapon again. Never.

“Yes, you can thank your so-called best friend for that.”

x:

“Can you repeat that again?”

Fayt sighs and glances at the communicator. Now he’s reaching out; now he wants help, and he ponders whether his friends really has the time for him because they’re all so busy with their new lives.

“Luther’s alive,” Fayt says to Cliff. “I don’t know how, but he is. I’m not really sure why he’s not attempting to delete us again, but…”

“Fayt,” Cliff smiles and laughs. “I think you just need to calm down and get some more rest. You look like shit.”

Fayt lowers his head in defeat. Cliff’s right. For all he knows, he’s hallucinating all of this. Why? Because he knows that Luther is dead. He and his friends had killed him in the Workspace of the Spiral Tower.

xiv:

“So you think I’m a figment of your imagination,” Luther says, sitting on the comfy bed and gazing at Fayt who is pacing around the room. Luther smirks smugly. “Maybe Cliff Fittir is right, maybe he’s wrong. The advice he gave you could have been bad, or good…”

“What are you saying?” Fayt inquires, stopping momentarily to look at Luther. This time, he’s not wearing all black; in fact, it’s quite the opposite. It brings out his pale skin and his golden hair.

He bites his lip; he doubts he’s ready for the truth.

“In this world, in this universe, good and bad does not seem to exist. There is no such thing.”

vii:

There are a lot of times Luther just vanishes, disappearing from the face of whatever planet Fayt is staying at, and that makes him question whether Cliff’s really right about him being delusional. After all, he has been through a lot and he thinks his loneliness and his unhappiness is causing all of this to happen.

“Rationalizing now, are we?”

Fayt looks around the forest he’s in; all right, he knows he’s hearing voices. Is he going insane or not? Is Luther really here? Or he’s being invisible?

“I’m here, only if you want me to be.”

xi:

Fayt stares at the mirror in a bathroom and rakes a hand through his blue hair. Luther has been so-called traveling with him for a while now, and he doesn’t like how Luther can suddenly come into his life and then leave whenever he feels like it. He figures Luther is being too friendly; is that one of those tactics used for war?

When he was captured by the people of Airyglyph, that wasn’t the case. There was torture happening around him, a lot of intimidation, and so on. Maybe he’s being paranoid again and maybe he’s thinking too hard on this. He has to think rationally, and so he does.

Luther seems to know where he’s at, so he figures Luther is probably still located in some high place where Fayt can’t reach him. Luther has probably visited him because of his powers. Then he stops to blink. If Luther does succeed in getting him, he wonders what will happen. Will he get experimented on? Is he one of those components that Luther will even use anyway? What if he’s wrong?

But then, what if he’s right?

xii:

“I’m not interested in that,” Luther snorts as he hands Fayt another glass of wine. The blue-haired man takes it hesitantly, and the two gaze at the scenery of the night from outside of their hotel window. “You’d go out of control.”

Fayt raises an eyebrow. “So you admit that you can’t control me.”

Luther pauses, and looks at him thoughtfully. He doesn’t reply.

“Can’t control?” Fayt asks and enunciates, gesturing his hands at Luther. He figures it’s the wine that’s getting him again.

Blue eyes narrow. “I can control you in other ways.”

Fayt almost wants to say just try me, because he knows he can. Maybe Luther has already read his thoughts.

viii:

He’s a little more than drunk, and Luther, that bastard, is taking full advantage of it. Luther’s ripping through his clothes as though they’re nothing, meticulous hands caressing his skin. Fayt is only vaguely aware of what is going on, looking at Luther’s face.

He has the nicest eyes, clear and blue. Focused. Even though he looks hungry, almost like a wolf about to devour a prey, he can’t help, but admire the man’s strange beauty.

Luther suddenly smirks, eyes gleaming. He brings Fayt’s hand to his face. “Do you remember anything?”

Fayt shakes his head. “I don’t think I want to remember.”

Luther makes that hmm-ing sound and leans down, pressing his lips against Fayt’s.

ii:

Fayt wakes up, rising from the bed and stretching his arms. He yawns and rubs his eyes. He stares around him; there is still the simplistic bed of the hotel and…

…He knows that something is missing.  

He yawns again, covering his mouth with his hand. He goes to the window and opens it. He looks outside. The sun is shining; there are even birds singing. He feels good, as though he’s healed. He can’t explain the feeling very well.

Something about this day is different; he feels that a certain heaviness around his shoulders has lifted.

i:

It’s funny how he’s able to slip back into the life he deserves, finally connecting with his beloved friends as he attends their gathering party. Today he’s happy because all of his friends-- even his mother-- are there, in the Diplo.

And yet… after the greetings and the bits of conversation, he finds himself alone in his room, and gazing at the space that’s sprinkled with bright stars. He frowns and lets a finger trail down at his reflection.

Suddenly, he’s not looking at himself. He’s looking at somebody else.

“Luther,” he murmurs. “Where have you been?” And he recalls that horrible afternoon of that day he had; said day would have been perfect if he had been oblivious about Luther’s disappearance.

Luther smirks at him. “Around, fixing this and that. Being with you has given me a few ideas.”

That causes Fayt to freeze. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Luther chuckles and reaches out, one palm pressing against the glass as though he’s trapped in a mirror. “What I meant it to be.”

Fin.

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A/n: The only reason I like this piece is because it’s not as dark. YAY. :D