My Lightbulb
Topic: Gravitation, which I do not own.
Genre: Fluff, really. But don't tell Yuki!
Summary: Lately, Shuichi's been getting the question, 'Are you afraid of the dark?' a lot. This leads him to think that maybe there is more to his answer then just 'NO!' Unbeknowst to the novelist, Shuichi's musings compare him to a lightbulb. I know, what? DEDICATED TO DEJICHAN4444! Because she rocks :)
Notes: Um, pure-I-did-this-because-I-was-on-a-writing-roll-and-I-just-decided-to-go-with-it idea? And yes, I really did just go with it. -sighs- I love writing fics like this (and not about lightbulbs, I meant I love when writing comes this easy). Beta? Pwease? Onegai?
Author: Sammy kill joy
People ask me all the time if I'm afraid of the dark. I guess with the way I am, it seems like a plausible, realistic sort of question.
The first time someone asked me, I was kind of rude, I think. Mostly, I remember having a bad day at the studio that morning, so when a reporter had come up and asked me such an elementary question, I had just kind of yelled at the poor guy.
"Of course not, why would you think that?" in a really snappy tone.
But lately, and oddly, the question seems to have reappeared in many interviews and I hear it a lot more often when I'm walking by rows and crowds of paparazzi after a gig. It's strange, but it seems that people just aren't satisfied with my answer (which consisted of a resounding, "NO!") and that got me thinking.
What was wrong with my answer anyway? Of course I wasn't afraid of the dark. What kind of 18 year old would I be then?
But then I started thinking even more. I mean, what if they meant metaphorically? (which they probably didn't, but at this point I was beyond the actual problem and leaning towards amusing myself since Yuki was out with his editor during this particular moment.)
And then I realized with something like an epiphany that I was a bit afraid of the dark sometimes. The dark alleyways, the dark sky surrounding me when I'm all alone and it's really late out. Or when I come home to a dark apartment.
But then I go home to Yuki or Yuki comes back, always saying, "Tadaima," tiredly, a new habit he had reluctantly acquired a few weeks ago. And then the dark isn't so bad anymore.
One thought led to another and then I was comparing my Yuki to a lightbulb. In the darkness, I'm afraid, I guess, but I can always rely on switching on the lightbulb and filing the room with light. It's simple but effective and I can't help but feel that I've really struck something with this metaphor of mine.
But I would never tell Yuki, he would kill me, really he would. Or he would leave and I'd be in the darkness without a lightbulb and only a switch.
And then I'd really be afraid. So no telling him, alright? I like my lightbulb right where he is.
Thanks.
owari