Disclaimer: I do not own Chrono Crusade blah blah yada yada. :

A/N: HI! This is my fanfic and also my fanfic I've ever written using the pair in Chrono Crusade! Chrono and Rosette are definitely one of my favorite couples. Please, review! As a newcomer, I'd like to know what you guys think! Be honest and frank alright? No flames though.

Anyway, Enjoy!

He had lost count the number of times he always ended up in the streets, miserably drunk and walking aimlessly.

Perhaps, he was getting used to having a blurred vision every time he had to go home at the eleventh hour. Alcohol was his new addiction nowadays. He was normally very resistant to alcohol, with the way his body was built. Tonight had been more intense. He spent almost four hours drinking up numerous bottles, it got the bartenders worried if they were going to be out of stock so soon.

A few men came up to him, watched him in amusement as he chugged down all the liquids bottle after bottle. They even challenged him. He always had the most shots chugged in one gulp. The men praised him, and even without intention, he had gained a lot of friends and 'mates'.

But he was, without a doubt, unhappy.

He would paint a smile on his face, the emotion barely reaching his eyes. He would laugh, perfectly faking that plastic, charming laugh. It was as if he was laughing because he was desperate. No one knew. No one understood. No one will ever will, said the darkness part of his conscience.

He was finally outside, away from the suffocating smell of alcohol and cigarettes… and attention whores looking for a good lay. He was still smiling, the insides of his cheeks starting to hurt from so much strain. His eyes were staring right ahead, unfocused and hazy. Dull and lifeless, his eyes glistened against the moonlight. 'I'm pathetic.' he would think. 'I'm always crying. This has to stop.'

He smiled goofily as he swayed side to side, struggling to walk in a straight line. His hands were clenched tightly inside the pockets of his pants, trying to suppress the storm of emotions that was, as always, growing inside his chest. He chuckled and chuckled, a dry and humorless laugh. He kept walking, having absolutely no idea wherever the hell he was now. The streets were unfamiliar. He knew that much. Suddenly, he felt something cold and sharp sting the curvature of his neck.

A few more stings came. Now he was wincing. He had been drunk and the temperature of his body was higher. The stings were now all over his head, down to his shoulder, to his arms and his legs. They hurt more than he expected it to be.

Then he looked up.

It was just the rain.

I'm jealous of the rain

That falls upon your skin

It's closer than my hands have been

Oh, I'm jealous of the rain

It was the little things that reminded him of her.

He stared at his left hand, glistening under the light posts of the streets. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about her anymore. He knew there was no point in reminiscing his memories of her again and again. He also knew that he was disobeying his thoughts again, as he continued to stare at his hands, more droplets of rain pierced his rough and calloused palm. He could feel himself drifting into the memories once again.

How could he forget? The first time he played in the rain, with her. Her voice was so cheerful and inviting, it brought him warmth despite the chilling weather. The perfect curve of her lips every time she grinned, he always found it irresistible.

But he hated the rain.

That day, he was extremely annoyed that she had dragged him into the rain, for her childish antics. He stared at her in wonder as she bounced around him, her naked feet splashing against the minimal water on the ground. She was extra cheerful, he noticed. Then, without warning, she flashed a heart stopping smile at him. He noticed the flush from her cheeks as well, and he realized just how mesmerizing she looked at that very moment. He fought the urge to just pull her into an intimate embrace right there. He wanted to feel her. Just her. Her skin, her body, he wanted to feel the vibration of her voice, he figured that it would be heavenly.

But he knew better, he didn't deserve that kind of heaven. He always knew that she deserved better, someone better than his pitiful self. Oh, how he hated rainy days.

"You know, this is my favorite weather. I've always loved the rain."

And so he decided that he loved the rain too.

I'm jealous of the wind

That ripples through your clothes

It's closer than your shadow

Oh, I'm jealous of the wind

He felt himself shiver at the air of the weather. It was close to midnight, it was raining and now it felt even colder. He sighed, it was the wind. He didn't mind either way. He was way too drunk to have a care in the world. Forcing another goofy grin on his face, he felt his lips going numb for a few seconds. It was now a little purple, the skin of his lips started to crack and dry up quickly. He let his warm tongue run across both of his lips, but it only resulted to a small sting. He continued to walk under the rain, his head hung a little lower, his smile looking ghostly and utterly lifeless. His dull eyes watched his own two feet, each step bearing a sight of clumsiness and inaccuracy. He had crossed a street without noticing. Fortunately, there were no cars around the area at the eleventh hour. He blinked rapidly, swimming into his ocean of memories once again.

He remembered. Whenever they visited a high hill, a spot where they would always meet up, he would stare at her side view. He enjoyed the way her dark locks of hair swayed against the rhythm of the wind. The wind always seemed to be following her, as if it was a second shadow. Only, the wind gets to touch her. He, on the other hand, was literally like a shadow to her. He would always follow her, no matter where it was. Even some of her privacy was invaded, she didn't mind. She always seemed to be comfortable around him. But to him, it wasn't enough.

He craved for something more, but then again, he knew better. Did he do anything to deserve her? No. He didn't.

The wind was giving her the air to breathe, the breeze to feel good, the moment of assurance that she was in peace. He couldn't compete with that.

All he could ever do is slowly take her life. Because of him, she was slowly dying.

He really didn't deserve her-

"There you go again."

He was snapped back to reality when he heard her gentle voice.

Now she was staring at him. He was caught again. He averted his eyes and looked away, heaving a heavy sigh. "You're thinking about it again, aren't you?" She asked him sternly.

He didn't answer. It was her turn to sigh. She spoke his name so softly, it briefly sent him shivers. She reached out one hand to touch his face, in the hopes of making him feel better. Instead, he flinched away. It was as if one touch from him could destroy her. He watched her hand clench tightly, her eyes boldly showing the hurt inside her soul. 'Damn it.' He cussed at himself. He looked away again, already consumed by his painful guilt.

He heard her sigh again, only this time it was deeper, as if she was holding back a sob.

"You know very well that I hate it when you think this way. Please, stop hurting yourself like this." She pleaded.

He blinked, his eyes already filled with tears. The memories danced in his eyes like a very vivid dream. It had been a hundred years since then, but he could still envision everything like it had all happened yesterday. He could never get used to the ache in his chest, but at the same time, he loved it. Oddly enough, he wanted to break his heart over and over again, just so that he could see her in his dreams once again.

I wished you the best of all this world could give

And I told you, when you left me

There's nothing to forgive

He could feel himself slipping into another painful memory once again.

"No. No, don't do this." He whispered, he winced at the pain in his throat. He was straining to whisper in her ear.

He was holding her close. Her eyes were almost closed, she was struggling to keep herself awake, alive. He could feel it. He could feel himself seeping the life out of her body.

Oh, how he hated himself at that very moment.

"Don't cry," she said in a very breathy whisper. She was almost voiceless. Her voice box had decided to stop working as her body continued to deteriorate. His eyes found the sight of her hands clutching the watch. That cursed watch. For a brief moment, he let himself get lost in his dark thoughts.

'If I had been stronger to protect her from this curse, she would have a lot of time in her hands instead. That cursed watch should just disappear. Curse you, for taking her life away. Curse you for giving it all to me. I don't deserve it. It's her life, not mine. I hate you, and now I hate myself.'

"Hey."

He looked at her. His eyes clashed with her loving gaze. He felt his soul melt. This was always his secret heaven, to have the opportunity to look into her eyes.

And see the love that he didn't deserve to have.

She pulled his face closer to her, making them lean against each other's foreheads. His lips were merely hovering over hers. She closed her eyes, because she could see the tears forming in his eyes. If he was hurting, then so was she.

"Don't die on me. Don't you dare," he whispered solemnly. She could only smile, hoping that it was making things better for the both of them. But to her disappointment, he shut his eyes tightly, letting the tears flow. It stabbed her heart.

"I won't be able to forgive myself after this." He stated. Her eyes widened in alarm.

"Don't say that. You have to."

"Are you saying I should just forgive myself for killing you like this?"

More tears came, they drop silently on her face. She kept her eyes on his. His eyes tugged at the emotions of her heart.

Finally, she pulled him into one last hug. Then, she gently kissed his lips with so much tenderness and she could feel his grip on her tighten.

"If you can't forgive yourself, then I'll do it. For you."

But I always thought you'd come back, tell me all you found was

Heartbreak and misery

It's hard for me to say, I'm jealous of the way

You're happy without me

He stared at the tombstone.

Her full name was engraved beautifully. So was the number years she lived. He glared at that one, but his gaze was still filled with grief and solemnity. He was pretty certain that this was probably his 135th visit of her burial place.

Yesterday was his last visit. He had also visited the day before yesterday, and the day before that day- he visited every day. He was desperately trying to wake himself up, forcing himself that this was all a reality, not some horrible twisted nightmare. Deep down, he wished he'd find himself waking up back to the old days, and she would be alive again. She would be there to annoy the hell out of him. She would be there to surround his ears with the sound of her laughter. She would be there to stop his heart from beating just with her breathtaking smiles.

But all of those visions would just be broken again by the painful truth of reality.

She was gone. She was now in a better in a place. And he really was jealous of that, the feeling of loneliness overwhelmed him.

'I miss you.'

I'm jealous of the nights

That I don't spend with you

I'm wondering who you're lying next to

Oh, I'm jealous of the night

There were nights when he thought that he felt her sleeping beside him. Life had to remind that he was only dreaming with a broken heart.

Indeed. If that was the case, then waking up was probably the hardest part for him.

I'm jealous of the love

Love that was in here

Gone for someone else to share

Oh, I'm jealous of the love

As a sinner, he was allowed, or rather expected to express his dislike for the God that all the Christians worshipped. He already denied God long ago, but now he no longer felt that kind of resentment.

He couldn't help but think that God had taken her away from him. He was grateful, but at the same time, he loathed it. No one else would be there to accept him whole-heartedly. He always understood that she had been a strong believer and worshipper of God. Heck, she even said that it wasn't too late for his salvation.

But now she's with Him, sharing their love for one another. She must be so happy up there, he thought. He hated it. He hated the fact that the only one who could grant her eternal happiness and love was Him and only Him.

As I sink in the sand

Watch you slip through my hands

I die here another day

Cause all I do is cry behind this smile

"I've thought about it for the longest time," he said to the tombstone, as if he was speaking to her. He was already kneeling, his hands lingering on the wetness of the stone.

"Honestly, it really isn't fair." He said. "It isn't fair how I'm left here to live a hundred more years without you."

The tombstone didn't reply. She didn't reply. Her soul was lingering, but she didn't answer him.

"I mean, what am I supposed to do?" he choked in his sobs. "No matter what I do, I can't forgive myself at all. With the constant reminder of your death, I just-"

He cut himself off. Too caught up with his emotions

He continued, "I'm hopeless, aren't I?" He asked no one in particular.

"But you knew!" He slammed his fist on the ground, "You know that I'm not just an ordinary mortal. You, of all people, know that I'm going to live for so long and watch more people die. Didn't you stop and think how lonely that could make me?!"

Cause I wished you the best of all this world could give

And I told you, when you left me

There's nothing to forgive

"I promised…" he whispered, the rain still falling in the night.

"I had no intention of living longer than you." He clenched his fists tighter, "But I'm still here, breathing, crying, hurting, and staring at your tombstone."

He could feel the waves of self-hate resonate within him once again. It's been a while since he felt all these emotions altogether. He reached into one of his pockets, and clutched the century-old clock that drained the soul of his beloved. He brought it out and stared down at it. It wasn't ticking anymore.

It had been hundreds of years since the clock was working.

It had died down the same time she was dying slowly. It was the very thing that cursed her fate to meet an early end.

"It's not fair, Rosette. It's not fair at all…" his body shook as he embraced his intense sobs.

Just this once, he allowed himself to be selfish. He wanted nothing else but to be with her again. He wanted to take his life away and find her in the heavens.

"But you keep telling me to live," he gritted his teeth, sniffing. "You keep appearing in my dreams. You keep telling me to live another day, always encouraging me, making me think that I would be happy again." he whispered, his voice now hoarse and strained due to his emotions.

"I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore. Every single day is just torture. Just how long are you going to make me wait, Rosette?"

But I always thought you'd come back, tell me all you found was

Heartbreak and misery…

Soon enough, he noticed that the rain stopped. He stood up, his legs shaking a little and his head started to spin. He was still a little drunk. He decided to head back to the place where they first met. It always brought him an unexplainable feeling of peacefulness. It had become his favorite spot for so many years.

It's hard for me to say,

I'm jealous of the way…

He sat under the tree with the clock on his left hand. His eyes looked up to the dark sky which was now cleared from the gray clouds a little earlier.

Darkness started to consume his vision. His eyelids suddenly felt a lot heavier. He took one last look on the clock on his hand. He smiled bitterly.

'Rosette, will you come to my dreams again?'

He was already seeing her smile at him. She looked so happy, so peaceful and so achingly beautiful. He smiled back, but he still longed for her.

You're happy without me.