Hello to those rare people who will read this. I thank you for taking your time to read this, it means a lot to me.
Sigh, my Namitas went crazy again. Also, that is my pairing. Don't let anyone tell you different. I put two titles because I liked them both. Here it is:
(A/N: Tell me, what you think of it.)
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The smell of his Darkness was dreadful, but intoxicating. The scent of pure coffee beans mixed with the sourness of lime reached her small delicate nose. She made no move; still as the dead. She knew if she moved a muscle that he would kill her. Thankfully, being around people like Marluxia and Larxene, you follow their orders to the ‘t’.
His black needle hair poked into her eyes, throat, mouth, ears, and skin. She still didn’t move. He brushed his lips on her collarbone, chest, ears, and every exposed part of her torso. He was soft and gentle, a game he always played in the beginning. She knew of his tricks and thus braced herself mentally. It always caught her my surprise.
The quick, inhuman movements.
A yelp.
A flash of black and gold.
White, black, and red, falling like rain.
The thud against sheet.
A low chuckle.
A haunting phrase.
A soft scream.
Then the fun began…for him, at least. Pain, sadness, guild, remorse, all those sad emotions came crashing on her as waves suffocating her. Breath the water in, they cooed. Another scream and a chuckle again. The same thing, over and over again. The tangled and sweaty sheets covered parts of their bodies, but they were still one. Their mingled and useless souls could finally have meaning. They could change their destiny.
After suffering the pain his pleasures, she stayed on the bed. She was a mangled, broken marionette. She would stay there, hearing the rain hit the window. She heard the shower. She saw the world danced in the most royal, brilliant blue the world could see. Like his eyes, she thought bitterly. A growl erupted in her head. She thought of nothing. Finally, five minutes before he usually got out, she was able to feel her limbs once more. She winced, everything was sore; surely she’d have bruises in the morning. She felt sick then, trudging to the kitchen. Everything was bathed in blue, and that kept her company. She knocked a few things off the metallic table by the door. A sigh was whispered into her mind. She ignored it; she needed to get to the kitchen. Finally, as her foot barely touched the tile floor, he came out. Their connection was too strong, thanks to her. The tile floor was ice to her feet, but she needed to get to the cabinet. She reached out to the cabinet, all the way to the left, engraved with a gold crown. She grasped the granite counter tops so hard she stopped breathing and her veins stuck out. She gritted her teeth. Her body wavered falling onto the cold counters. She shivered trying to push away, but her body had no blood. She was dying.
I have to get it. I have to, she thought. She reached desperately to the cabinet. I have to know, god damn it. Finally, she opened the cabinet door and the object fell to the floor. But as her pale delicate fingers opened the door to the crack for the object to fall, she fell. It was like a slow-motion video. She fell gracefully, her hair covering the photo. As she fell with a loud thud and a crack, the object fell right beside her. Her eye faced the object and her fingers were only an inch away. But she was dying, dead, gone. How could she reach an inch more?
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A cruel sentence was spoken to her when she awoke in her-no, their-bed. He must have clothed her as she was quite warm, and the wind would seep through the skin and be where the bones were once. As he spoke on and on, she thought of only one thing. Did he test it? He smirked suddenly. He pulled the object out of his pocket, and it was bright, bright, bloody almost, red. The color took a moment for her brain to process, but when it did, shock was what was greeted.
Her mouth was an ‘o’, but more graceful as she was once a singer (A/N: So, a ‘0’ then.). Her eyes were that of the planet showing only the ocean. Her skin was whiter than the whitest paper. Her shock was unbearable, making her almost faint, but she controlled herself. He kept smirking. It was so enjoyable; her pain, her suffering, her shock.
She kept like that for so long that he began to play with her like in the beginning. His smirk was sewn on his face. She was going to hate being this, but he would enjoy this. Oh, yes he would enjoy this, just like how he enjoyed her.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
(A/N: So, what was the object? Who were the characters(That shouldn't be hard)? Why was 'she' so scared? Why was 'he' going to really like this? Answer these questions in your review!
Yes, no?
Sigh, my Namitas went crazy again. Also, that is my pairing. Don't let anyone tell you different. I put two titles because I liked them both. Here it is:
(A/N: Tell me, what you think of it.)
_________________________________________________________________________________________
The smell of his Darkness was dreadful, but intoxicating. The scent of pure coffee beans mixed with the sourness of lime reached her small delicate nose. She made no move; still as the dead. She knew if she moved a muscle that he would kill her. Thankfully, being around people like Marluxia and Larxene, you follow their orders to the ‘t’.
His black needle hair poked into her eyes, throat, mouth, ears, and skin. She still didn’t move. He brushed his lips on her collarbone, chest, ears, and every exposed part of her torso. He was soft and gentle, a game he always played in the beginning. She knew of his tricks and thus braced herself mentally. It always caught her my surprise.
The quick, inhuman movements.
A yelp.
A flash of black and gold.
White, black, and red, falling like rain.
The thud against sheet.
A low chuckle.
A haunting phrase.
A soft scream.
Then the fun began…for him, at least. Pain, sadness, guild, remorse, all those sad emotions came crashing on her as waves suffocating her. Breath the water in, they cooed. Another scream and a chuckle again. The same thing, over and over again. The tangled and sweaty sheets covered parts of their bodies, but they were still one. Their mingled and useless souls could finally have meaning. They could change their destiny.
After suffering the pain his pleasures, she stayed on the bed. She was a mangled, broken marionette. She would stay there, hearing the rain hit the window. She heard the shower. She saw the world danced in the most royal, brilliant blue the world could see. Like his eyes, she thought bitterly. A growl erupted in her head. She thought of nothing. Finally, five minutes before he usually got out, she was able to feel her limbs once more. She winced, everything was sore; surely she’d have bruises in the morning. She felt sick then, trudging to the kitchen. Everything was bathed in blue, and that kept her company. She knocked a few things off the metallic table by the door. A sigh was whispered into her mind. She ignored it; she needed to get to the kitchen. Finally, as her foot barely touched the tile floor, he came out. Their connection was too strong, thanks to her. The tile floor was ice to her feet, but she needed to get to the cabinet. She reached out to the cabinet, all the way to the left, engraved with a gold crown. She grasped the granite counter tops so hard she stopped breathing and her veins stuck out. She gritted her teeth. Her body wavered falling onto the cold counters. She shivered trying to push away, but her body had no blood. She was dying.
I have to get it. I have to, she thought. She reached desperately to the cabinet. I have to know, god damn it. Finally, she opened the cabinet door and the object fell to the floor. But as her pale delicate fingers opened the door to the crack for the object to fall, she fell. It was like a slow-motion video. She fell gracefully, her hair covering the photo. As she fell with a loud thud and a crack, the object fell right beside her. Her eye faced the object and her fingers were only an inch away. But she was dying, dead, gone. How could she reach an inch more?
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
A cruel sentence was spoken to her when she awoke in her-no, their-bed. He must have clothed her as she was quite warm, and the wind would seep through the skin and be where the bones were once. As he spoke on and on, she thought of only one thing. Did he test it? He smirked suddenly. He pulled the object out of his pocket, and it was bright, bright, bloody almost, red. The color took a moment for her brain to process, but when it did, shock was what was greeted.
Her mouth was an ‘o’, but more graceful as she was once a singer (A/N: So, a ‘0’ then.). Her eyes were that of the planet showing only the ocean. Her skin was whiter than the whitest paper. Her shock was unbearable, making her almost faint, but she controlled herself. He kept smirking. It was so enjoyable; her pain, her suffering, her shock.
She kept like that for so long that he began to play with her like in the beginning. His smirk was sewn on his face. She was going to hate being this, but he would enjoy this. Oh, yes he would enjoy this, just like how he enjoyed her.
_________________________________________________________________________________________
(A/N: So, what was the object? Who were the characters(That shouldn't be hard)? Why was 'she' so scared? Why was 'he' going to really like this? Answer these questions in your review!
Yes, no?
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