The second installment (the sequel) to Ace of Spades is now out.
Read 'The Hanged Man' once you've finished this one.
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A rascal with a penchant for making friends with the wrong people, you were often regarded as a troublemaker by...
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When Ace returned to Grand Line from a little bus to and from the airport, he was greeted by no one, but that didn't bother him--not one bit. Though the wind was whipping and cold beneath the colorless, overcast sky--much like his emotions--, his heart was in turmoil.
It was nearly sundown.
He'd been sitting on that little rain-soaked bench outside of the cafe you worked at for a few hours, watching the various cars come in, college residents filing in and out to get their daily fill on provisions and fuel before rolling out.
He was utterly lost and that mission hadn't helped him to feel any more liberated either, if anything, he felt as if everything around him was getting tighter and tighter--as if the world was constricting around him.
With a sigh, the ravenette tucked a strand behind his ear and gazed up at the hazy sky, his lashes collecting dewdrops when his eyes closed to take in the scents of the soggy world.
He didn't know what he was doing. What he was waiting for, exactly.
Salvation?
Forgiveness?
His life was so tangled and messed up that he didn't even know where to begin.
But one thing was clear to him--as clear as that neon sign blinking overhead and that was the way his heart was squeezing in pain from your lack of presence.
Ever since that fight with you, he hadn't been able to get that nagging feeling away from him. Even while he was on that mission, he couldn't help but miss the way you fit perfectly beside him; the scent of your hair, the feel of your skin under his hands, those stupid jokes you'd make, and that hideously ugly face you made every-time you saw him... it all just pulled at his heartstrings--more and more every day.
The boy dropped his face into his hands and tossed out a humorless laugh, that pit in his chest only growing tighter by the second.
Why the hell did he have to mess it up?
Luffy was right--had been right about that night. It was his fault, regardless or not if you'd confessed the truth. He jumped to conclusions when he had no right to do that and now his friendship with you was broken.
And it was all because of him.
Fuck--
But somehow, that didn't suppress the overwhelming need to see you either. The mounting longing and the agony he felt were surreal--almost like a sword slowly pushing into his heart, twisting around to create the most pain.
In truth, he just wanted to scoop you into his arms and hold you; especially since he'd learned the truth of your past.
