Regrets, Conflictions, Broken promises . . .

When Haruki opened his eyes, he was wrapped in Hiroshi's arms and it was warm. Too warm that his eyes began to close but the memories of the night that just passed got him widening his eyes in shock before his face got dyed red.

He could not deny the satisfaction of everything that happened but at what cost did he get satisfied and the satisfaction itself was a contradiction to everything about him as a person. He hated every single memory of what happened.

He tried to pull himself away from the man, away from the warmth that did further good of reminding him of what happened last night but the man held onto him and even reached to touch his head in a gentle petting motion.

Haruki thought of who he was so deeply at that moment. He wondered why he did not have his fingers around the man's neck but it was all him, he knew that if he had stopped the man last night, none of what happened would have occurred.

Perhaps he trusted the man too much or he simply knew enough about the man to know there was no way the man would have insisted with a slight hesitation from him.

It was all him, he invited the man into his car, into his home, and into . . . He clenched his jaws as his clenched with almost equal strength. He seduced the man, he made the man serve him and the serving went a bit beyond.

They were both drunk and perhaps that could be concluded as a drunken mistake but that did not take away the memories of what happened to him. That did not change the fact that for the first time in his life, he broke the promise he made to himself and his godforsaken uncle.

He lifted his head to look at the handsome man who made it all happen. A cold glint flashed as he thought of how he would never have considered what happened an option if he never met the man. Perhaps some people are best existing far from him or ceasing to exist completely.

He pulled himself away from the man who tried to hold onto him. He reached for the dagger he habitually hid under the pillows. The blade glared thirstily even in the little morning light that fought its way in despite the drawn blinds.

He straddled the man's waist as the knife got closer to the man who made him into the person he hated the most, the person he swore he would never become. If the man dies perhaps that would never happen again, right?

He swallowed at the thought but looking at the listless handsome doctor whose eyes were closed so peacefully, he stopped the knife less than an inch away from his neck.

Last night, he had given the man the chance to take over everything that happened next. The man was gentle and kept looking at him as though trying to confirm his permission to go on. He had nodded more than a couple of times to let him know he was allowed to or pull him closer for a kiss.

The person he was last night and the person he was . . . he truly was, were two different people and it had to be the alcohol he kept chugging down his throat last night had to be the reason coupled with the person. It all narrowed to the person after all.

The man's words that seeped in through the cracks of his dreams in his vulnerable state must have been the key to what all these crazy feelings were.

What was the difference between him and the boy his uncle called a wh*re? How was he any different last night? Was there any difference when he had asked for another round and verbally approved of what happened between them several times that at this point, he did not feel like ending the man but rather ending himself?

His hand clenched tightly around the hilt of the dagger as his body trembled involuntarily in pure unfiltered embarrassment and disappointment in himself and the years of training he underwent.

He felt a strong urge to scream as he accepted that it was all him and the doctor's sole sin was his existence. With great reluctance, pulled himself off the man's body.

He got down from the bed and glanced at the man sleeping peacefully. His gaze moved from the man's handsome face to his wrists which each had marks from his belt when he strapped his hands together last night.

It was not too surprising that the sadistic part of him did not completely escape his body last night but he could not help but feel like the man deserved it since he felt shit the next morning.

It was all psychological he could not imagine any of his lovers feeling physically half as well as he felt on the next morning. He had to complement the man's gentleness as opposed to his that left clear love marks on the man's neck and his chest. From his memory, he was sure there were several marks left by his fingers on other parts of the man's body.

All these showed obvious signs that the man did not have it easy either but the fact that he had let the man invade his body against his principles was what had him throwing the dagger onto the other side of the bed as he was unsure of how strong his willpower was to hold him back from soaking his bed with blood.

He walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. When he looked at the beautiful reflection in the mirror, he felt a lump form in his throat as a strong urge to scream welled up from within. So much bottled anger he could only see red at that moment.

Glaring fiercely at his reflection trying to remind himself of who he was, he mouthed, "You need to wake up." Those words worked like magic as his expression became cold, and calm like a still pond.

Meeting the gaze of the man he was in the mirror, he could feel the storm raging from within and he slowly calmed those storms until everything felt within his control before he walked under the cold shower.

Almost as soon as Haruki walked out of the room, Hiroshi opened his eyes. A slight ignorable hint of fear flashed in his eyes as he raised his hand to his neck. He did not need a guardian angel to tell him just how close he was to losing his life a couple of minutes ago.