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Her name on your lips has a familiar lilt, a prayer you chant in hoarse whisper, the words escaping you in droves as she wipes all other thought from your hazy mind.
In the morning, the bruises will burn purple, a welcome reminder of her presence on your skin. You cover them like the prized possession they are, treasures bequeathed to you in the midst of the night. She's a poison, destroying every ounce of strong will you have left, eroding your stoicism with an acidic touch. You hate her for it, sometimes, when she's between your legs and forcing moans out of your mouth, when she's staring you straight in the eyes as you come, knowing all the while that this is a side of you only she will ever be witness to. She's greedy like that, selfish, and as you cry out and sigh and fall into her waiting arms, you can see her satisfaction, mixed with awe and something that looks like, but couldn't possibly be, love. (You don't have time for love, you remind each other between kisses.) She is the wind and you are the sea, but it is she that is dragging you downwards into the depths of an ocean of affection and lust and need and hate and a sudden rush of intensity you didn't know you were capable of.
She completes you, and you hate that. You're a soldier, after all, you're strong and independent and the fate of the world is your only concern, but you have come to realise over the past months that she is your lifeblood. Haruka is a piece of you that you didn't know you were missing until the first time you kissed her, nervous and flawed, atop your apartment building, the wind in your hair. Her fingers curling around yours. And then feeling, a sudden shot to your empty heart.
You don't want this.
You don't want this, you say to yourself as your body and mind defy you, your mouth speaking words you can barely comprehend, your muscles clenching, your legs quaking slightly with the effort of staying present. Her name. You're chanting her name and it rolls off your tongue, perfect and deadly.
You don't want this.
You need this.
However bitter the medicine, it is the only thing keeping you alive.