I sit and watch the rain and see my tears run down the window pane

No, the snowy haired boy didn't cry as he looked out of the window, not anymore. . .he gave the dark street a smile, delighted by the misty, chilly autumn evening outside, when inside he had lit a fire in the fireplace and was sitting on the floor in the living room in front of it, with snugly wool socks and comfy pyjama, sipping on a steaming mug of hot chocolate occasionally as he looked through old photos, of his family, himself, his friends, his yami – oh yes, especially those of his yami. The tall albino evil version of himself, with that unruly hair, and those wild crimson eyes; you get it, Ryou was lost staring.

Music gently throbbed from the stereo, a song which held so many memories for him.

I sit and watch the sky and I can hear it breathe a song

How Ryou loved that song. . . gentle, and desperate, and full of emotion. He smiled softly at a photo that was taken last Halloween, from Malik probably, showing the hikari and yami of the Ring facing each other, a demon-Bakura sweatdropping and grinning nervously at an angel-Ryou glaring at his dark for stealing candy from children.

I think of him, how we were – and when I think of him, then I remember (remember)

Ryou laughed quietly as he remembered that night, it had been so much fun; and ended a disaster, sure, because Bakura and Yami couldn't stand each other well, but after all, it had been funny to see them argue. If not Bakura had gotten that pissed and had to be held back by Marik from killing the former Pharaoh. . . He put the picture away, and took the next one, his expression softening visibly. Malik had taken that one too, after Ryou had pouted at Bakura for not controlling himself, and now the yami had long, slender fingers beneath his hikari's chin and their gazes were lost in each other, all arguments gone in an instant.

In his eyes I can see, where my heart longs to be...in his eyes I see a gentle mood, and that's when I'll be safe, I know

Ryou remembered, he had smiled and nodded, and then. . . Bakura had drawn him to his chest and hugged him, everyone going 'Awww', but neither had cared, and Ryou had blushed so bad, and – the memories toppled over in the hikari's head, making him giggle briefly and reach for his cup, taking another sip of chocolate, smiling dreamily.

Safe in his arms, close to his heart. . .but I don't know quite where to start

Oh yes, and then it had been awkward, when they got home and had to say good night and part. Ryou had dared kissing Bakura's cheek, eeping a 'good night', and had bolted to his room in embarrassment of not being able to control himself when he had chided Bakura earlier for the same reason. He vaguely remembered looking back, and seeing his stunning yami, well, stunned, a hand barely on his cheek, touching the spot where Ryou'd kissed him with his fingertips, staring after him in wonder. Briefly their eyes had met, and Ryou had blushed further, closing the door behind him gingerly.

By looking in his eyes, will I see beyond tomorrow – By looking in his eyes, will I see beyond the sorrow that I feel

The white haired boy let himself fall backwards onto the plush carpet in front of the warming fire, staring at the ceiling dazedly as his fingers dug into the soft fabric of the living room's carpet, the snowy hair splayed around his head. He imagined Bakura's eyes, so harsh and cold most of the times, angry and furious when someone threatened the hikari, but so gentle and warm when he looked at Ryou fondly. Ryou imagined hands, large, slender, buried in his own hair, combing out tangles or petting the softness, his yami's voice, purring contentedly when he had Ryou on his lap petting the boy. Both cherished those moments of bliss.

Will his eyes reveal to me promises or lies; but he can't conceal from me the love in his eyes

He giggled at the lyrics, the song on repeat, playing over and over again for his amusement. It was true, Bakura was good at hiding emotions when it came to enemies and strangers, but he couldn't help but let his crimson orbs soften at the sight of his vulnerable, fragile aibou. Sometimes he would just look at him with whatever his mood was shown in them, knowing Ryou loved that, being able to read his beloved's emotions through something else than the mind link. The boy blinked as time had passed as he laid on the ground, and sat up again, completely content. Now, if only Bakura would be here. . . Ryou always worried a bit, since Bakura had been banished to the Shadow Realm by Yami more than once, when he came home late; everything could have happened!

But Bakura knew how to defend himself. Yep. No need to be worried. Though, Ryou stood, and walked to the window again, the comforting warmth of the crackling fire in his back, the window pane fogging as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass, pulling back quickly and rubbing the chilly dampness off of his skin pouting. He wiped the glass a bit cleaner, and sighed as he watched the street, waiting for his yami to come home.

(In his eyes) I know their every look (his eyes) their lies are open books (his eyes) the stars their look that hypnotize me

Bakura himself opened the door quietly, soundlessly even, as he came home, kicking off his boots and throwing his coat away, then went after it and hang it up in the closet. He growled softly to himself, fondly though; Ryou had made him soft. He never had wanted to go soft, but there was something about the boy he had come to love that left him begging for more like a puppy begging for attention. He hated himself for that, yet he was glad he had the kid.

If I'm wise I will walk away and gladly, but sadly and no where to talk away the memories that you cried

He smiled as he watched his hikari from the doorway, as he looked through photos, smiling, laughing, and fell back eventually, causing the light of the flames to play in his pale hair, making it coloured prettily. It looked like a halo for his angel, and as the boy rose, his soft cheeks flushed the slightest, and made his way over to the window, Bakura couldn't help but feel all warm inside. . . and not because of the fire.

Love is worth forgiving for, now I realize

The yami listened to the lyrics playing in the background, shaking his head. Ryou listened to that song a lot, and Bakura caught himself playing it a few times himself, even when his sweet hikari wasn't around. He soundlessly crept up behind the hikari, smirking as the boy pulled back from the glass quickly, and stayed behind him like the thief king he was when Ryou turned to the fireplace again, stepping in front of it to get warmer again. He wanted to hug, kiss, caress him, and all that kept him from it was that song. Was that the reason why Ryou had forgiven him so many times before? Because he loved him? Maybe. . . probably. Bakura smiled again as he remembered how they had confessed to each other that they were in love, and they had been happy ever since, still the guilt kept nagging at Bakura's mind for everything he'd done to the angel's poor fragile mind.

Bakura slowly wrapped his arms around Ryou's waist, delighted as the boy started just slightly and then leaned back into his chest, and he pulled him closer, nuzzling into the crook of Ryou's neck gently, placing a small kiss on it.

"Listening to that song again angel?"

His heart swelled as Ryou giggled. "Of course! It's so beautiful!"

"It could never be as beautiful as you though.", Bakura stated matter-of-factly, and Ryou turned around in his arms to look up at him in awe; it wasn't often that Bakura complimented him that nicely. It seemed the yami was in a good mood. . . and that made Ryou smile, and his eyes shone brightly as Bakura's breath hitched slightly and he leaned down to capture soft warm lips in the gentlest of kisses.

Everything worth living for is there in his eyes

Aww, cute little one-shot. . . I don't know, I listened to that song from the musical Jekyll&Hyde, and that idea jumped into my head ; Tell me what you think, alright?