Since you all love this story so much I updated
After 3 months I'm so sorry
What no no no of course I'm not mocking your pain

"Mariku...."

The air around him was crisp and chilling. Biting cold made his skin feel numb, and Mariku was frozen in his spot, facing the being of nightmare material.

"Mariku..." Ryou croaked, shivering uncontrollably. His lips were blue, his face and lashes dusted with frost, and his hair soaking wet and freezing. Ryou's sunken eyes were just barely open, and his skin almost blue rather than pale. He stood there, frail, hunched, and yet too weak to make any steps toward him.
He reached out a shaky hand. "I-I'm c-cold..."

No matter how hard he tried, Mariku couldn't move, and he couldn't say anything. Desperately, he tried to make an effort to get him a blanket or a sweater or simply wrap his own arms around him, but all he could do was stand there and watch.

"P-please...M-Mariku...." Ryou shook and trembled and tried to take a step, but he tumbled and fell through the floor as if it were a lake frozen to thin ice. His torso quaked as he tried to pull himself from the hole. He looked up to Mariku with pleading, bloodshot eyes. "H-help me....I need you...."

Poor baby...

Mariku was waiting to be pulled from this— from all of this.

You're whimpering. Are you having a nightmare?

He hoped— he wished— that he could open his eyes.

Here, let me scoot next to you. Lay your head on my chest, alright? I'll hum you a little tune...

Mariku awoke with a gasp. His eyes shot open and he frantically searched the other side of the bed, checking the sheets for Ryou— arm, his back, his hair, just something that he could touch so he knew that Ryou was beside him— and when he found nothing but the cold, empty sheets, he dropped his head and let it hang.

He hadn't realized he was panting. He leaned back onto the headboard and all he could think about was Ryou. In his nightmare, he was covered in ice and frost. He shivered and quaked and Mariku couldn't do a thing to help him.

"He was conscious," Mariku's mind had seemed to be repeating what a forensic pathologist had said to him. He had poked and prodded at Ryou's dead body and Mariku wasn't allowed to see him. "At the frozen lake, he was barely alive."

Ryou must have been so cold...

Mariku had been waiting for the touch. That's what happened when he had a nightmare; he'd wake enough to let out a whimper and Ryou would scoot over to Mariku's side of the bed, and he would hush him, softly, humming a lullaby while he gently stroked his thumb against his temple.

Mariku's eyes shut tight, his grimace silent, and his tears just as real, he only wished that the soft touch he knew all too well would bring him from his nightmares.

He touched Ryou's pillow— well, the pillow from his side of the bed, Mariku had kept Ryou's pillow in a bin the closet— and pulled it to himself, hugging it as tight as he could. Mariku's tears rolled to the tip of his nose.

It wasn't getting any better. Mariku's sleepless nights were getting intolerable. It was hard to sleep without Creampuff at his side, but it was starting to get hard to sleep at all.

His thoughts rolled in his mind. He wasn't sure who to turn to, since Ryou would usually solve the issue with a cup of tea or relaxing music he'd find on YouTube somewhere. Mariku had already tried that, and was growing restless.

He hopped out of bed to kick on his slippers, and he reached for his robe and a jacket. Maybe he could drive around for a while, and tire himself out. Or at least, he could see the city at this time of night.

The apartment building was still and asleep when Mariku left. He got to the garage, still in his pajamas and slippers, and crawled into his car while fumbling for the heater.

As he drove off into the night, he left the radio untouched so he could ride in silence.

***

Odion rubbed his tired eyes as he got up from his own bed, making his way down the hall as quick as possible once hearing the persistent and hesitant knocking on the apartment door.

He squinted through the peephole and, shockingly enough, opened it and beckoned for Mariku to come inside.

"I'll get Ishizu."

Mariku nodded.
Odion left to wake her, and Mariku made himself comfortable on the couch.

He remembered back when he invited Ryou over to meet his family. He'd already been acquainted with Marik, but not so much Ishizu or Odion. He'd brought the kindness of his heart and the manners of a true gentleman, winning them over easily. He made it seem almost a true mystery as to how Mariku got Ryou on his arm, and the family questioned why the hell he wasn't going to share him.

Mariku also recalled when Ryou would sleep over, and it would seem that the two could never seem to be alone together in the Ishtar dwelling, as everyone wanted to spend time with him. And Ryou couldn't help it; everyone loved him.

"Mariku," Ishizu spoke and brought his memories to a halt. Her voice was grainy from having slept. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yes. They're getting worse."

She reached out her arm, and Mariku stood and followed her into the kitchen. He sat on the counter stool while Ishizu checked the medicine cabinet for sleeping pills, or something to get him to relax.

Before she gave him anything, she stood across from him at the other side of the counter. "They're worse?"

Mariku bit his lip and nodded.

"Can you explain?"

"I don't know. I mean—" he wanted to speak of it as it was, but he wasn't sure how to do it. "—you know? It's...difficult. Just to watch. This time...Ryou was barely alive in this one. His skin was blue, and it was cold, but— he...he recognized me. I was a part of the dream, this time."

"Oh?"

"He wanted me to—" he gulped and spoke slowly, as not to cry. "—to save him. To keep him warm. But, I just stood there, and I couldn't move. And then the floor broke beneath him and...he kept asking me to help him. I couldn't do a thing."

Ishizu listened intently. "This is definitely much more different than the others."

Mariku looked down at his shuffling feet. "Yeah."

"Have you tried getting a therapist?"
When Ishizu received a glare in response, she didn't press the suggestion any further.
"I'm no professional. You can't expect me to fix this."

"I don't want you fixing anything. I just want to sleep."

"I know that, but you can't keep depending on me." Despite her protests, she rose from her seat and searched the medicine cabinet for a bottle of sleeping pills that she'd given to Mariku in his young age when he had trouble sleeping. Ishizu had been instructed not to give him his own bottle in case Mariku would do something bad.

Mariku grumbled but gratefully took one from her.

Then she declared, "You're sleeping here, tonight."

He scoffed. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You can sleep in your old room— I'm getting a feeling that spending all your time at Ryou's apartment is hurting you."

"It's not hurting me. I'm fine."

"Clearly not."

Mariku felt tired but he continued to protest. Didn't she understand? Ryou was all he had.

"Listen to me, Mariku. I'm only saying this one more time, and I'm not saying it again: it's okay to hold on to memories of Ryou, that's understandable. But don't cling to them so much that you suffer because of them."
He opened his mouth to speak but Ishizu quickly added, "Wouldn't Ryou want that from you?"

It was tough to admit, but Mariku nodded slowly.
"I guess."

Rubbing his tired eyes, Marik yawned as he entered the kitchen. "Sis? Why's everybody up so late?"

He caught a glimpse of Mariku and bit his tongue, unsure of how to respond. He would always get angry at him for petty things, but Ishizu sat him down one day and told him to be as respectful as possible. After all, he was going through a lot.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Mariku ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I'm only spending one night. I'm going back in the morning."

Ishizu crossed her arms. "Fine."

So, after swallowing the pill, he brushed past his family, went down the hall and approached the last door on the left, opening it up to see that everything remained untouched. His blankets were still in their crumbled pile. The pillows were flattened and un-fluffed. Even his drawers were still opened.

Nothing was really there, though. All his clothes were at Ryou's, his easel and paints were there, too. When he moved out, he took all his stuff and hadn't bothered to pick up after himself.

When he crawled into bed, he felt comfortable and familiar with the mattress. That was good. Perhaps he could pretend that nothing had changed.

It struck him like a bolt. He sat up, got off of the bed, lifted up the mattress, and found his old sketchbook. It was from a few years back, when he first got interested in art— and in Ryou.

He flipped through the pages, staring in awe as he felt like he was reliving his past. He remembered what happened when he drew these. How he felt. How he struggled to draw that damn other eye.

Of course he got better overtime. He drew Ryou, which was probably what confirmed that he was indeed a psychopath.

But Ryou was just so fascinating.

On his smooth, pale face, a shade of pink flushed his cheeks and his nose on a cold day. His big brown eyes were comforting and mesmerizing. And his gorgeous white hair fell onto his shoulders, curling at the ends. And his bangs shaped his face so perfectly, and his smile was sweet and kissable.

Skimming through more drawings, Mariku found the part where he decided to insert himself into the drawings. He had always felt like his own image ruined the picture, but it didn't stop him from watching Ryou hold his hand, give him a warm hug, or press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Mariku didn't ever draw anything explicit, mainly on the off-chance that someone would find the book, but when he drew them kissing on the mouth he couldn't help but sigh because he could almost imagine what Ryou's lips actually felt like against his own.

He felt lucky that he ever got to know the experience of his Creampuff's famous kisses.

On the second to last page of the notebook, he saw the drawing that Ryou had added, making him feel as if he could cry.

To the best of his ability, Ryou had drawn Mariku and himself holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes. Of course, his bangs were off and Mariku looked like he had a weirdly shaped torso. ("No! That's your cape!" Ryou had insisted.)

Mariku huffed lightly, feeling tight in his chest.

Where did it all go? He bit his lip, closing the book and holding it to his chest. Where can I find it again?