storm contained, sunshine boxed, freedom shackled.

Derusan ombak bersilih ke pantai
Disambut alunan nyiur melambai
Rembulan megah di atas mahligai
Tersenyum melihat kita berdua

Angin membawa lagu cinta
Sejuta bintang bermain mata
Seakan rela dua insan
Di dalam senarionya

Antara Anyir dan Jakarta
Kita jatuh cinta
Antara Anyir dan Jakarta
Kisah cinta tiga malam
Kan ku ingat selamanya
Antara Anyir dan Jakarta

Kita seakan mimpi yang buruk
Ku alami setiap hari
Cinta yang sudah tiada lagi
Tinggal memori membawa kembali

“‘Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove.’”

A deep, quiet chuckle. A kiss brushed across his bare shoulder. The arm around him tightened its hold, pulling him more securely against a strong, nude body.

Skin against skin in a long, clean line – no unbroken moment where flesh did not touch flesh. There, pressed to the small of his back, irrefutable evidence that his partner was fully awake and ready to start the day in the best way he knew how. The other man did not, however, make a move to initiate their favorite morning wake-up ritual. Instead, he simply held him.

Nevertheless, sleep refused to return.

"I said stop it!" he snapped, keeping his eyes closed as if, by the act of doing so, he could continue to cling to sleep.

Another laugh. Masculine. Knowing.

He felt long strands of hair brush his shoulder as his partner leaned over him to brush a kiss against his cheek.

"I'm not doing anything," the other man mumbled, a quiet protest.

"Stop watching me." he growled, keeping his eyes tightly closed and refusing to buy his lover's innocent act.

"Why?" the other man asked reasonably. His hair tickled where it brushed bare skin. "You looked so content."

He grunted and hugged the other man's arm more tightly around him, entwining their fingers.

"Go back to sleep." he ordered gruffly.

"Don't be cruel, Ayan."

"Don't call me that."

"I never get to watch you sleep. Your face is all smooth and happy, no scowls or glares. It's a rare treat."

"Yohji…"

"'I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I did till we loved?'"

"Donne." Aya snorted, opening his eyes for long enough to send his lover a halfhearted glare.

Yohji smiled brightly at him. "You see?" he asked. "I did read those books you got me for Christmas. Even though there aren't any pictures."

A snort.

"Some of them have pictures."

"Fat, naked Europeans. Not interesting. I'm thinking about replacing them with pictures of you. To…inspire me."

"You don't have any pictures of me."

"That you know of."

A grunt. Aya closed his eyes once more in another futile attempt to go back to sleep. Beside him, Yohji propped himself up on an elbow and set to staring.

Aya opened his eyes to glare again, and Yohji smiled once more. He reached out to caress his cheek, and Aya found himself reluctantly admiring the way the man's taunt, golden skin appeared in the early morning light.

"You know," the blonde observed casually, "You keep buying me books of love poems and the guys are going to catch on to our little secret."

"My giving you poetry doesn't mean that I love you. It means I'm trying to educate you."

Yohji leaned over him to capture his lips in a kiss. Playful, light, teasing. Yohji's kisses were always expressions of his personality, explaining him more perfectly than words ever could.

"That," Yohji declared quietly as he pulled away, "Means you love me."

Aya could find no way to argue with that logic.

So he didn't try.

"And where's the proof of your love?" he countered.

"It's five a.m. on a Sunday and I've been watching you sleep for at least an hour and a half."

"That doesn't mean you love me. It means you're creepy." Extracting himself from the blankets, he began to rise from the bed. "Find a better example. Yotan."

The blonde's laughter followed him as he went into the room's connecting bathroom.

A casual glance in the mirror as he passed by on his way to the shower turned his stomach, making his amusement, his happiness, vanish quickly. Skin too pale, eyes too vibrantly purple, hair like blood. He generally avoided his reflection, but sometimes he forgot. Yohji made him see himself as beautiful. Desirable, even.

And being faced so suddenly with the reminder that he was not was like a physical blow.

The mirror had caught him. His reflection's freakish eyes held his gaze so securely that he barely noticed when Yohji entered the bathroom behind him.

The blonde smiled at him, and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his chin against his shoulder.

"Why do you love me, Yohji?"

"So now you do believe I love you?" the blonde teased, nibbling his neck. "I thought you were going to make me think of a way to prove it."

"No. I believe you love me." Right now, he added silently, certain that one day the blonde would get over his interest in him and find someone beautiful to love. "I still want to know why."

"Why. Hmm…"

"Yohji."

"What? It's a difficult question." Yohji grinned at him, kissed his cheek, and then turned his attention to their reflection in the mirror.

It was such a contrast. Golden Yohji, pale Aya. Mirthful green eyes, solemn purple. A smile, a scowl. Long, curling golden hair, short, choppy crimson.

"Damn, we look good together." Yohji decided. They both kept their eyes locked on the mirror, watching their images as Yohji caressed Aya's face. "We should make a movie."

"Yohji. I'm serious."

"'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove.'"

"Yohji. Don't."

"Hell, Ayan, I just love you. Do you have to know why?"

"Yes," he insisted. "I do."

Silence a long while.

Then a deep sigh.

"I love the way you fit in my arms – as if you were made for me." Yohji said reluctantly. The blonde preferred action, Aya knew. If he had it his way, they would never talk, never leave the bedroom, never leave the bed. Any expression of love would come soley through their bodies, without a need for words to complicate the message. "I love the way you glare and complain and fight me, even though you secretly really enjoy it when I tease you." his eyes bore into Aya's through the mirror – burned him, seared him, left him breathless and trembling. "I love your determination in all things, your dedication, your strong, stubborn soul."

"Yohji…"

Aya's voice was a whimper, a plead, though he didn't know what he was asking for.

Yohji did not break his gaze. His eyes were serious, his mouth unsmiling, his intensity consuming.

"You know how much I need you, and you let me. You let me need you. I can't keep my hands off you, I can't keep away from you, and even though you act like it annoys you, I know that you'll always allow it because you know me that well." Yohji continued. "You understand me so perfectly…you know things that I've never told you. You just know."

The eyes at last dropped from Aya's and moved to graze his body. For once, there was no lust in that heated stare.

"'My Helice the lodestar of my life.'" he murmured quietly, before placing a final, gentle kiss against Aya's temple and stepping away from him. He returned to the bedroom, leaving Aya alone with his reflection.

Aya stared at himself, missing the presence of Yohji beside him. With Yohji's words still ringing in his ears, he could almost see himself as…if not beautiful, then at least somewhat…decent.

"Stop lookin in the mirror!" Yohji yelled from the bedroom. "You're fucking hot and you know it!"

Despite himself, Aya gave a small laugh.

Turning his back on the mirror, Aya returned to the bedroom, where Yohji was waiting with a bright smile and a welcome hug. Yohji kissed him, and the darkness was quickly and efficiently banished from Aya's mind as the two fell back into bed.

Works Cited:

1. John Donne – The Good-Morrow

2. William Shakespeare – Sonnet 116

3. Edmund Spencer – Sonnet 34

Sonnet 34

Lyke as a ship that through the Ocean wyde,

By conduct of some star doth make her way,

Whenas a storme hath dimd her trusty guyde,

Out of her course doth wander far astray:

So I whose star, that wont with her bright ray

Me to direct, with cloudes is overcast,

Doe wander now in darknesse and dismay,

Through hidden perils round about me plast.

Yet hope I well, that when this storme is past

My Helice the lodestar of my lyfe

Will shine again, and looke on me at last,

With lovely light to cleare my cloudy grief.

Till then I wonder carefull comfortlesse,

In secret sorrow and sad pensivenesse.
A ship on the wide ocean gets off course when a storm hides the star that guides it. I feel the same way when you, the one upon whom I depend so much and have become accustomed to look for direction, are not there to encourage me. I feel lost and have a hard time facing life's problems. Therefore, I hope we can soon clear up the trouble between us, Helice, you are the most important person in my life. I want everything to be happy between us again. I will feel so much better then. Until that time, I will wait anxiously and have no peace of mind; I will grieve and be depressed.

Sometimes I know what I want to say to you if I had the chance. Other times it seems to slip through the chinks of my mind.

I don’t want to remember you anymore. Not when you don’t have to remember me.

I don’t want to feel like you’re missing.

You weren’t supposed to break through the wall I put up. You promised you wouldn’t leave, even though I told you we couldn’t make promises.

Fuck you.

You lied, even if you didn’t mean to.

Your promises didn’t mean anything in the end.

And, God help me…I love you.

She was scared.

Of saying yes.

Of saying no.

Of saying yes then later realizing that she should have said no.

Of saying no then later realizing she should have said yes.