It's been so long since I've cried.

 

I mean, really cried.

 

I don't think it's been since I was a child.

 

I was actually innocent then.

 

Don't get me wrong, I was a sophisticated American with my nose stuck high in the air. I never thought any one could get me down. Except those damned powers. How I hated them.

 

 They made me "different."

 

But it didn't seem to matter so much when I went to  Japan. A little sake here, a kill or two there, making the big bucks in the real world. That's all that mattered to me. Working with a quiet kid and a pyscho who likes my beat-up blender.

 

Yep. Those are true friends.

 

Except that annoying redhead. God, he gets to me. Always smirking, that nasal voice crooning my name as if it belonged to him. It's almost disgusting.

 

And yet slightly attractive. Those eyes get to me everytime. No matter how annoying he can be.

 

His hands are soft too. He always grabs mine, or trys to bat me away from the keyboard. He should take a hint from me and learn what real work is.

 

"Someone has a stick shoved a little too far up their ass.." he always says.

 

Maybe he's right.

 

Maybe I do take my job too seriously.  I can sit back and loosen my tie, but it doesn't loosen the grief. Or the horrible reality of what I do. 

 

Weiss says they are so good. The claim they are the "Good guys".

 

They're just like me. All of them.

 

A murderer.

 

And yet HE doesn't see me as a murderer. Or a bad person. Because he always smile.

 

Does he ever see a cloudy day? Are those brilliant emerald eyes shown the reality of broken homes and blood stained on once innocent hands?

 

We all have bad backarounds. The Weiss boys do. No wonder we're all assassins.

 

We're crazy. Just like Farfarello.

 

Though I don't resent the Irish man. Envious, moreover. At least he's happy.

 

He doesn't regret what he does. He enjoys the blood.

 

I've seen to much, personally.

 

And Schulderich...

 

Always smiling. Pherhaps someday I can tell him... I love him?

 

He'd probably laugh.  I'm not supposed to have emotion.

 

No.

 

The leader of Schwarz is not supposed to have emotion.

 

I ..

 

I.. Bradley Crawford.. have emotion.

 

I feel so guilty.

 

All I want to do is kiss those soft tiers, run my fingers through his wild red hair and cry his name in the moment of passion.

 

Such dirty thoughts.

 

Yet I don't mind them.

 

Pleasuring myself doesn't help me. I want him, even though I'm a murderer.

 

Aren't I allowed to love?

 

All I can do is cry.

 

All I want to do is cry.

 

I'm weak.

 

I can't express my feelings to the one I love.