Disclaimer: I don’t own Akuji. For Kitty

XxX

Deep violet eyes glanced menacingly at the clock. He watched the second hand move with timed precision, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick. And suddenly, each tick reminded him of a moment. A moment in time where his body was meshed against someone else’s. A body he couldn’t quite completely control. Tick, tick, tick. Each moment was seared on his skin, as though he was swimming in honey. He just couldn’t get his mind off that boy. It haunted him to the point of obsession, and then he laughed.

Akuji had always been fanatical, but even he had his limits. And right now, he was teetering on the edge of a thin line, either he was going to twist safely on the side of stability or jump off the edge. The question always remains of course, why was he teetering in the first place? The answer was so simple, so easy, that he didn’t want to admit to it. His mind was straying to a boy, Andronikos to be precise. Andronikos was the whole problem, the thorn in his side. Tick, tick, tick. Could he find a solution to his problem in time?

Andronikos, this name, this name alone made Akuji cringe. It wasn’t of fear, it wasn’t of hate, it wasn’t of any thing really. It was just an automated response, like the hands of a clock. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, falling downward onto the floor. He pulled one of his knee’s up casually and wrapped an arm around it. He dipped his head, ebony hair falling into his eyes.

It seemed so logical, so ornate that he would be like this, on the floor, staring at nothing. His body remained relaxed and hummed. It hummed with the feeling of cold fingers and bitter bites. Something about that rocked his psychotic world. He craved it, he craved the intimate groans. He delicately thought there would be threads of connection between them now, between Andronikos and himself. He was always a sucker for thread, but he liked to cut them and attach his own string. Making the gaps seem bigger and bigger, infinitely bigger. He felt a grin, a smirk, and something move across his lips.

He slid his eyes back to the clock, ticking, ticking, ticking his life away. If he waited any longer, he’d wither away and float away somewhere. He looked to the door, then to the clock. Clock, door, clock, door. It all seemed to blur into a lone image, a beautiful boy with hair blacker then the blackest night. Red eyes gazed impatiently into his and he smirked. Time just made things a bit more interesting.

Tick…Tick…Tick.