Categories > Movies > Newsies > In Love But Nowhere Near Perfect
Title: Bond
Word Count: 1,472
Genre: Newsies/OC Songfic
Time Period: Modern day
Song: Kizuna by Kazuya Kamenashi
Notes: The original lyrics of this song are in Japanese. I used the English translation for the purpose of writing this fic. The Japanese title Kizuna translates to the English title Bond.
Summary: No summary because I would like to keep the reason what happened happened until the last word as much as a secret as possible. Sorry to burst anyone's bubble!
Disclaimer: I only own the person who is telling the story. I don't own the song I used, I don't own Ilario, I don't own ANYTHING but the fact that I had written the story (except the song) and the character telling it. If you sue me, don't expect much money because I might have $10 to my name. And if you REALLY want that, feel free to just ask and I will give it to you.
__________
No matter how much they think about what's ahead
No one can see the real thing
Emptiness? Something blocks my heart
I just repeated my mistakes
I let Ilario in my window. He looked worse than I had thought when he first rapped on my window to wake me up. I looked him over closer as I helped him sit on my bed. His face was stained with his blood and his right eye looked as if it were about to glue itself shut. I moved my eyes down his body and settled them on his right arm. It was broken and there was no doubt about it.
I ran to get the first aid kit from the bathroom without waking my brothers or parents up. I hurried back while opening the kit to find clean pieces of cloth to sop up some blood. I knelt in front of my battered boyfriend. I began lightly but firmly cleaning him up. As soon as his face was as bandaged as I could make it, I helped him remove his shirt, which was stained with more blood. His blood.
I looked in horror as I could see the bruises all over his chest, stomach, and waist. I knew something in him had to have been bruised or even broken. I searched for the biggest roll of tape in the first aid kit and started wrapping it around him.
It's alright to take it one step at a time, not letting go of my hand
Because we can continue living during the days that we walked together
Even if we are dragged along until we get worn out
In that place, at that time, there is this un-disappearing bond
I gently cuddled next to Ilario. I did not want to ask anything, but I knew I had to. When I did, he answered. From the sound of his voice, he did not mind. I could tell it hurt him to say that his father had beat him, but he did not mind the question.
He must have known that the answer had scared me. He wrapped his left arm, the one that was not hurt, around me and held me tightly to him. Ilario said to not blame myself because it was not my fault. I told him that it was because if he had never met me, he would not have been hurt like this.
I tried to force back the tears that were coming out of my eyes and succeeded for the time being. I snuggled my face into his strong neck. I waited until he was fast asleep before I let my tears fall. As soon as I felt one escape its prison in my eye, I pulled my buried face away from Ilario's neck. I did not want him to feel the wetness of my tears and awaken from, what seemed to be, a peaceful sleep.
So that I don't get lost amidst the passing time
I just missed colliding with my true feelings
*His feelings color my heart
Meeting **him was the miracle that I was looking for
Finally, exhausted from the tears, I buried my face back into his neck and slept. How could I believe that if I had never moved here and not met Ilario, everything would be easier? Life's not meant to be easy, right? I am relieved to have met the one person I could spend the rest of my life with.
I woke up to a groan from Ilario trying to get up without disturbing me. I asked him what was wrong and he told me that it was morning. I jumped out of bed and helped him up. Morning meant breakfast was probably ready and I would have some explaining to do to my parents.
I looked at the clock and sighed. When I met Ilario's entrancing brown eyes, I explained that I did not have to explain him being here to both parents at once. My father had already left for work. I helped Ilario to the door and opened it for him. I walked with him down the short hall and into the kitchen. Immediately 6 eyes looked at us. A dish dropped and crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces as my mother gasped and rushed to Ilario.
Ilario insisted that he was fine and I had done a good job bandaging him. My mother and I helped Ilario into a chair at the table. She went back to preparing the breakfast. My brothers started asking questions on what had happened until I told them that Ilario would tell when he was ready.
I could see a light amidst the sadness that was so great
That I couldn't even stand still, because we are connected
It's alright if you lie to me, it's alright if you cry
In that place, at that time, there is this un-disappearing bond
During breakfast, Ilario answered my mother's questions. They were the same questions I had asked after I had let him in my window last night. My mother's expressions were my own when I had first heard the story. My brothers' expressions as well.
Every word that repeated itself showed pain in Ilario's eyes. I knew he was upset. I knew he did not have to defend himself for something he could not help feeling. He was no longer claimed as his father's son. That was nearly to hard to bear. The tears that had refreshed from last night were threatening to break free of their prison. Ilario looked at me and grasped my hand under the table.
A squeeze from his hand was his way of trying to reassure me that it was not my fault. One of his little sisters asked what a kiss from me to Ilario meant. That was at the dinner table one night at his family's home. His father got angry. Then his father got drunk. Then his father beat Ilario. All because of what I am. In return, Ilario is that too.
It's alright to take it one step at a time, not letting go of my hand
Because we can continue living the days that we walked together during
Even if we are dragged along until we get worn out
In that place, at that time, there is this un-disappearing bond
My mother offered Ilario to stay at our apartment. Ilario agreed. I nearly let out a squeal of delight. My boyfriend would be in the same apartment as me and I could see him any time I wanted to. It also helped with the fact that I wanted to help him heal.
My younger brother offered to sleep on the couch and gave Ilario his bed. My younger brother never offered anyone his bed before. That surprised me. Although my family is very hospitable, the one person to say his room is off limits was my younger brother.
My older brother helped Ilario to clean clothes. Though Ilario was bigger than my older brother, the clothes fit. Yes, they were a little tight, but I did not mind. I was very pleased with the way the clothes looked on him. Well, the shirts at least. The pants did not fit at all. He could not bring them over his thighs.
I helped Ilario to his temporary room. There he told me that it was not my fault this had happened. That must have been the hundredth time. Tears escaped my eyes and he hugged me with his good arm. He whispered that he was happy that we were together. I asked him why that made him happy. He replied that it was because he could be his true self and not be afraid of anything. He loved me as I loved him.
I cried in his arms because I was hurt that someone who made this person could just beat him and possibly kill him because of what he was. I was proud of what I was. I did not hide it from anyone. My family accepted it. His family would not. No. They could not. They believed it was wrong.
Why can everyone not accept the fact that we are unique? Why can everyone not accept that we are what we are? Why can everyone not accept everyone no matter what? Why can everyone not accept that not everyone is the same?Why can everyone not accept that people can not help who they fall in love with? Why can everyone not accept that Ilario and I are gay?
__________
*Changed from her for the purpose of the point of view of this story
**Changed from her for the purpose of the point of view of this story
Word Count: 1,472
Genre: Newsies/OC Songfic
Time Period: Modern day
Song: Kizuna by Kazuya Kamenashi
Notes: The original lyrics of this song are in Japanese. I used the English translation for the purpose of writing this fic. The Japanese title Kizuna translates to the English title Bond.
Summary: No summary because I would like to keep the reason what happened happened until the last word as much as a secret as possible. Sorry to burst anyone's bubble!
Disclaimer: I only own the person who is telling the story. I don't own the song I used, I don't own Ilario, I don't own ANYTHING but the fact that I had written the story (except the song) and the character telling it. If you sue me, don't expect much money because I might have $10 to my name. And if you REALLY want that, feel free to just ask and I will give it to you.
__________
No matter how much they think about what's ahead
No one can see the real thing
Emptiness? Something blocks my heart
I just repeated my mistakes
I let Ilario in my window. He looked worse than I had thought when he first rapped on my window to wake me up. I looked him over closer as I helped him sit on my bed. His face was stained with his blood and his right eye looked as if it were about to glue itself shut. I moved my eyes down his body and settled them on his right arm. It was broken and there was no doubt about it.
I ran to get the first aid kit from the bathroom without waking my brothers or parents up. I hurried back while opening the kit to find clean pieces of cloth to sop up some blood. I knelt in front of my battered boyfriend. I began lightly but firmly cleaning him up. As soon as his face was as bandaged as I could make it, I helped him remove his shirt, which was stained with more blood. His blood.
I looked in horror as I could see the bruises all over his chest, stomach, and waist. I knew something in him had to have been bruised or even broken. I searched for the biggest roll of tape in the first aid kit and started wrapping it around him.
It's alright to take it one step at a time, not letting go of my hand
Because we can continue living during the days that we walked together
Even if we are dragged along until we get worn out
In that place, at that time, there is this un-disappearing bond
I gently cuddled next to Ilario. I did not want to ask anything, but I knew I had to. When I did, he answered. From the sound of his voice, he did not mind. I could tell it hurt him to say that his father had beat him, but he did not mind the question.
He must have known that the answer had scared me. He wrapped his left arm, the one that was not hurt, around me and held me tightly to him. Ilario said to not blame myself because it was not my fault. I told him that it was because if he had never met me, he would not have been hurt like this.
I tried to force back the tears that were coming out of my eyes and succeeded for the time being. I snuggled my face into his strong neck. I waited until he was fast asleep before I let my tears fall. As soon as I felt one escape its prison in my eye, I pulled my buried face away from Ilario's neck. I did not want him to feel the wetness of my tears and awaken from, what seemed to be, a peaceful sleep.
So that I don't get lost amidst the passing time
I just missed colliding with my true feelings
*His feelings color my heart
Meeting **him was the miracle that I was looking for
Finally, exhausted from the tears, I buried my face back into his neck and slept. How could I believe that if I had never moved here and not met Ilario, everything would be easier? Life's not meant to be easy, right? I am relieved to have met the one person I could spend the rest of my life with.
I woke up to a groan from Ilario trying to get up without disturbing me. I asked him what was wrong and he told me that it was morning. I jumped out of bed and helped him up. Morning meant breakfast was probably ready and I would have some explaining to do to my parents.
I looked at the clock and sighed. When I met Ilario's entrancing brown eyes, I explained that I did not have to explain him being here to both parents at once. My father had already left for work. I helped Ilario to the door and opened it for him. I walked with him down the short hall and into the kitchen. Immediately 6 eyes looked at us. A dish dropped and crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces as my mother gasped and rushed to Ilario.
Ilario insisted that he was fine and I had done a good job bandaging him. My mother and I helped Ilario into a chair at the table. She went back to preparing the breakfast. My brothers started asking questions on what had happened until I told them that Ilario would tell when he was ready.
I could see a light amidst the sadness that was so great
That I couldn't even stand still, because we are connected
It's alright if you lie to me, it's alright if you cry
In that place, at that time, there is this un-disappearing bond
During breakfast, Ilario answered my mother's questions. They were the same questions I had asked after I had let him in my window last night. My mother's expressions were my own when I had first heard the story. My brothers' expressions as well.
Every word that repeated itself showed pain in Ilario's eyes. I knew he was upset. I knew he did not have to defend himself for something he could not help feeling. He was no longer claimed as his father's son. That was nearly to hard to bear. The tears that had refreshed from last night were threatening to break free of their prison. Ilario looked at me and grasped my hand under the table.
A squeeze from his hand was his way of trying to reassure me that it was not my fault. One of his little sisters asked what a kiss from me to Ilario meant. That was at the dinner table one night at his family's home. His father got angry. Then his father got drunk. Then his father beat Ilario. All because of what I am. In return, Ilario is that too.
It's alright to take it one step at a time, not letting go of my hand
Because we can continue living the days that we walked together during
Even if we are dragged along until we get worn out
In that place, at that time, there is this un-disappearing bond
My mother offered Ilario to stay at our apartment. Ilario agreed. I nearly let out a squeal of delight. My boyfriend would be in the same apartment as me and I could see him any time I wanted to. It also helped with the fact that I wanted to help him heal.
My younger brother offered to sleep on the couch and gave Ilario his bed. My younger brother never offered anyone his bed before. That surprised me. Although my family is very hospitable, the one person to say his room is off limits was my younger brother.
My older brother helped Ilario to clean clothes. Though Ilario was bigger than my older brother, the clothes fit. Yes, they were a little tight, but I did not mind. I was very pleased with the way the clothes looked on him. Well, the shirts at least. The pants did not fit at all. He could not bring them over his thighs.
I helped Ilario to his temporary room. There he told me that it was not my fault this had happened. That must have been the hundredth time. Tears escaped my eyes and he hugged me with his good arm. He whispered that he was happy that we were together. I asked him why that made him happy. He replied that it was because he could be his true self and not be afraid of anything. He loved me as I loved him.
I cried in his arms because I was hurt that someone who made this person could just beat him and possibly kill him because of what he was. I was proud of what I was. I did not hide it from anyone. My family accepted it. His family would not. No. They could not. They believed it was wrong.
Why can everyone not accept the fact that we are unique? Why can everyone not accept that we are what we are? Why can everyone not accept everyone no matter what? Why can everyone not accept that not everyone is the same?Why can everyone not accept that people can not help who they fall in love with? Why can everyone not accept that Ilario and I are gay?
__________
*Changed from her for the purpose of the point of view of this story
**Changed from her for the purpose of the point of view of this story
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