A prideshipping drabble. Yami's feeling weary of his endless games.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Maybe one day…

Warnings: A severely angsty Yami, he's almost like a teenage girl here.

I despise you. You know exactly what to say to make my heart bleed. And oh, did it bleed. Every single time. But somehow, I couldn't let it – didn't want it - to stop. This love I feel for you is sickening. It desecrated me from the inside out.

Was this what love was supposed to feel like? Was it supposed to hurt this much?

I thought I saw you smile at me once. It was a small, little thing, barely visible beneath the shadows. Even at its tinniest, it made my heart pound. I broke out into a sweat. My palms felt clammy. That tiny thing affected me more than I'd liked to admit.

Was this what love was supposed to feel like? Was it supposed to feel this good?

Of course, you weren't actually smiling at me and I felt even worse for allowing myself to believe you were.

Could you ever feel anything more than this grudging respect for me? I dream of the day that you would say, "Good game," instead of, "I will beat you eventually." Why do you keep challenging me if you can't handle the defeat? Why do I keep accepting these challenges?

Any question about you I find an answer to just gets me another 10 questions to answer.

Why couldn't I love a nice normal person? Then I could ask myself easier questions like, "What's his favourite colour?" or "Chocolate ice cream or vanilla?" or "Does he believe in ancient Egyptian spirits that once inhabited gold jewellery?"

I fear for my sanity. I don't want to feel this way. But I wouldn't dream of trying to stop it.

I still can't decide if I want to rip my heart out and hand it to you on a platter just so you could stomp on it, or keep safely in my chest where it'll just get stomped on by you anyway. To speak or not to speak? Public humiliation by you, or letting myself wallow in my angsty pit of despair?

More questions I'll never find the answers to.

There's only one question that I really want to be answered. Well, two actually. They plague my mind by day and by night, I dream of them when I'm not dreaming of you. Every time I see you, I ask myself these questions and somehow, every single time I ask, I never receive and answer.

Is this what love is supposed to feel like? Is it supposed to hurt this much?

…The End…