Angel Tears
folder
+. to F › Detective Conan/Case Closed
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,178
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+. to F › Detective Conan/Case Closed
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,178
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Detective Conan - Case Closed, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Angel Tears
Angel Tears
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
She’s doing it again. I can hear her crying. She’s doing this more and more often, staying up all night and worrying herself sick about me. I wish she wouldn’t.
I hate this! Even if I try to stop her tears and comfort her as Conan, she treats me like a little kid and sends me back to bed. It’s all my fault she’s like this. I’m the one doing this to her. Can’t she just give up on me already; life would be so much easier for her if she did. She deserves so much better than me, especially now after all this. Can’t she see what a horrible person I am?
I am worse than horrible, leaving her to cry every night like this.
I hate this body! It’s this body that keeps me from being with her. If only I was rid of it for good, then I could hold her in my arms and keep her safe and she would never shed another tear again.
If I could just sneak into the kitchen without her hearing me. She is still crying in her room, and I don’t think she heard me. Back in the old man’s and my room I can take my prize out. It feels cold and heavy in my now tiny hand. I press the cold steel to my fore arm and slowly, ever so slowly so that I may prolong the pain, I slice through the skin. It always amazes me just how much blood falls from one slice. The blood flow is doubled as I strike at myself again.
I think it is a fair compromise. For every teardrop that falls down her perfect face, there will be one drop of blood that will flow down my horrid arm. She is slowly dying on the inside because of these long nights, and I am slowly dying on the outside.
As I steal a glance at my arm I realize that I have still been cutting myself this whole time. I can’t even recognize my arm at this point, perfect. Just how it should be. Better start cleaning up this mess or my Ran-neechan will be mad at me; I hate it when she is mad, at either one of me. Such a perfect angel should never be mad or sad, what a horrible person I am to make an angel cry.
It is best that I wash the sheets myself down stairs. If anyone asks I will just say that I wet the bed, do six-year-olds still wet the bed? Oh well, I doesn’t really matter either way.
a/n: ok this is my first fic ever so please don\'t flame but it would be ok if i would get some tips in the reviews XD
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
She’s doing it again. I can hear her crying. She’s doing this more and more often, staying up all night and worrying herself sick about me. I wish she wouldn’t.
I hate this! Even if I try to stop her tears and comfort her as Conan, she treats me like a little kid and sends me back to bed. It’s all my fault she’s like this. I’m the one doing this to her. Can’t she just give up on me already; life would be so much easier for her if she did. She deserves so much better than me, especially now after all this. Can’t she see what a horrible person I am?
I am worse than horrible, leaving her to cry every night like this.
I hate this body! It’s this body that keeps me from being with her. If only I was rid of it for good, then I could hold her in my arms and keep her safe and she would never shed another tear again.
If I could just sneak into the kitchen without her hearing me. She is still crying in her room, and I don’t think she heard me. Back in the old man’s and my room I can take my prize out. It feels cold and heavy in my now tiny hand. I press the cold steel to my fore arm and slowly, ever so slowly so that I may prolong the pain, I slice through the skin. It always amazes me just how much blood falls from one slice. The blood flow is doubled as I strike at myself again.
I think it is a fair compromise. For every teardrop that falls down her perfect face, there will be one drop of blood that will flow down my horrid arm. She is slowly dying on the inside because of these long nights, and I am slowly dying on the outside.
As I steal a glance at my arm I realize that I have still been cutting myself this whole time. I can’t even recognize my arm at this point, perfect. Just how it should be. Better start cleaning up this mess or my Ran-neechan will be mad at me; I hate it when she is mad, at either one of me. Such a perfect angel should never be mad or sad, what a horrible person I am to make an angel cry.
It is best that I wash the sheets myself down stairs. If anyone asks I will just say that I wet the bed, do six-year-olds still wet the bed? Oh well, I doesn’t really matter either way.
a/n: ok this is my first fic ever so please don\'t flame but it would be ok if i would get some tips in the reviews XD