Okay… working on my other ficcies, reaaally. But I'm feeling cynical as heck, so I'm writing something different than the light mood that I need to have for Wicked. I'm also in the process of moving, and that's taking a lot of my time up... Um, I shall update other stories laaater.

I do not own Megaman X or any of the characters there of.

Puppet

Take me, break me…

It's a Celtic fair. You wanted to go so badly, holding up the flier, practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you looked at me so hopefully, eyes shining brightly and who was I to say no to that? To crush your hopes in my hand with a simple word, break your heart with a denial?

Music is filling the air, dark and enchanting, catching your skin and making it burn as brightly as the light of the fire that you dance around. You spin, arms outstretched and that slip of an over shirt dances in tune with you before hands grasp yours and you laugh, throwing your head back, exposing the thin, graceful curve of your neck.

I could kiss it, feeling the warm pulse underneath and tasting the salty sweat that sticks to it, practically calling me. Tuck you under my chin, feel your warmth and sleep out under the stars.

I could slit it. Watch as the red runs a river down your bright skin, feel your essence on my hands and wonder if you'd still say you love me, watch as that light leaves your eyes forever.

Take me, break me. I'm a doll, a mass of wires and metal held up by strings of blue; I'll dance for you if you command it. I'll kill for you, die for you, spin in circles and fall when you finally cut my strings and end this game.

You run in a circle around the fire with the others, arms connected in a chain and there's a smile on your face as your eyes catch mine for a moment, just a moment in time that I want to catch and hide, freeze and hold, but I can't even blink before your back is to mine again. I tilt my head to the side, fingers idly shredding blades of grass, ripping them from the ground and watch as you come around again, smiling hopefully in my direction.

You wish I would join you, but you won't call to me and ask. You wish I would take your hand, hold it in my own and follow your little game, chase after you in a never ending circle until we tire.

How silly, I already have you. You let me hold your life in my hand everyday, small and delicate, precious and I can only wonder about being entrusted with something so bright. You break off, spinning around before you end in a bow, hand out as if asking for leave of your captors.

Because that's what they are, captors keeping you from me. Infernal people, leading you away, but maybe that would be safer? Do you ever look me in the eye and worry about what you see there, something dark, something that makes you shiver and wonder in the dead of the night, when I'm asleep and you're looking down at me?

I hate you. How you mock me with your very existence, a light I was never able to snuff out. How you can call my name with a smile. Would you still laugh and smile at me so if I bit your pink lips, watched them bleed and lapped at the drops of pain?

You're looking my way now, cheeks flushed and bright, breath coming in puffs as you wave to me again. Another hand grabs yours before you get far and you're dragged off, laughing again and still waving in my direction, but it's not a call. You haven't called me yet.

I love you. The way you calm me when you look into my eyes. How your scent, when I sneak up behind you and rest my head on yours, relaxes my spirit, sets me at ease. How you tilt your head and simply ask 'why?' to any denials I can come up with.

Take me, break me…

"Zero?" You're looking at me again in silent question, curiosity. Like I'm some enigma that you can't figure out, a puzzle that you've spent years trying to fit together, only a few of the pieces fell under the table, into the cracks and you're lost without them.

Do you really want to know; are you that eager to open that box? You always tell me you're happy with the way things are, is it so bad to leave well enough alone? Do you ever wonder what the morrow might bring?

I might embrace you.

"Zero?" You try again, sitting down next to me. I can feel your breath on my skin, warm and inviting as you call me. You're wondering why I'm looking out at the night, across to the dead city, the lights catching my eyes like the stray spirits of those I've killed.

I might kiss you.

"Yes?" I finally grace you with a response, bringing one hand up to cup your pale cheek. Anyone who has seen your skin in the moonlight or the light of the fire would agree that it would look stunning bathed in blood, porcelain contrasted against deep crimson like a fallen angel.

Lost innocence, sweet corruption.

You lean into the touch, closing your eyes and smile as I rub my thumb along your jaw, and I wonder about all the trust you must place in me every time you do that.

I might kill you.

But let me be a puppet on borrowed time until then. You tug at a lock of my hair, pulling me down until my head is in your lap and stare into my eyes in thought, as if all the answers you're looking for are buried somewhere in them.

Take me, break me…

"...Zero?"

How much longer until you solve this puzzle, X? Because you'll smile and call my name like that until you cut my strings won't you?

A/N: …I dunno. I'm tired and like I said, cyyynical. I think I'll head to bed after I post this. Review and tell me how strange I am pleaaase?