"Clink"

A/n it is the sound not the slang for prison version

Disclaimer: I wish I could, but can't take credit for them.

The shop was closed now; Mi-san had long since gone home. Ayame had locked-up and turned off the lights and was now in the safety of his own bedroom.

He had just finished looking at his photo album. He closed the book, with its crisp white papers, that had his memories, his precious memories on each page. The memories were the only thing no one could take away from him.

Ayame felt the twinge in a vein in his arm. It ran through his body, sending shivers up and down his long delicate spine. No one knew how lonely he truly felt, how painful it was, but at least he was not depressed…yet.

He felt the feeling rise in him, the rage; he could feel it all the way to his fingertips. He shivered. He looked around the room and at the single picture that sat on the table next to the chair he was seated in, the picture of him and Hatori.

It angered him, how Hatori stood on the side that day, not wanting to be touched. That memory stung, stabbing into his heart.

How could both of them get intothe impenetrable Hatori's heart? How could both Kana and Tohru sneak in? Why could he not, too? They just made some stupid statement about the snow becoming spring. Those foolish girls, who did not understand the effect they had on Hatori.

If he could, he would ring their thin necks. If he could, he would change the past, so that they had never meet Hatori. If he could, he might change his feelings for Hatori, but that was like telling his heart to not beat another beat. If he could, he would change everything…If only…

He moved a little in his chair. He suddenly swung at the frame with his arm, sending it crashing to the floor. It still irritated him to look at his own smiling face beneath the cracked glass. How clueless and hopeful he had been. He used to believe with all his broken heart that if he waited long enough, Hatori would notice him and fall in love with him.

Ayame settled back down into his chair, that disgustingly overdone chair. It matched him so well. He relaxed back into the overstuffed cushion. He was winding down now. He closed the amber orbs he called eyes, which usually added light to the dim room.

He sat there in the chair for awhile, resting and listening to his heart thumping in his slight chest. Ayame's heart was slowing down and his breath was becoming even again. He was slowly drifting into another dream, which was always the same, with Hatori bursting through the door claiming undying love for him. Tohru and Kana were there too, congratulating them from the doorway. It was always just a dream…

Ayame fell into a deep sleep and let the empty syringe fall from his cold, ghost white hand, and let it continue to fall and clatter on the wood floor with a small "clink", that rang through the empty lifeless room.