((A new series~! ARELENA, because, gosh, if they aren't obvious then Cross isn't sexy…which he totally is. –swoon- Um, yes, I apologize for my long hiatus! Urgh. Not enough self esteem and time and everything to write….but now I shall get back on the ball! Comments keep my going, make me happy, makes me want to write, and keeps me from going on long hiatus…. –cough- Onward~ To my morbid love series~! – Miki-chan))
((Note on this one-shot: Allen and Lena are older. Allen is a general. Oh yes.))
Coldest Heart
He would capture her hand with his own, drawing her into his embrace. Glaring, she would stare at his tender boyish appearance that masked his dissolute nature. Flowing locks of silver cupped his pale cheeks while rays of the same tainted white stood erect behind his ears. The generals' eyes welled with a merciless crimson that seemed to suffocate souls to their knees. He was marked upon his left cheek, baring the fact that he was cursed; condemned for the bitter, costly mistake made years ago when he had been just a boy craving for love.
Now, before her, was one of the greatest generals ever placed in the Black Order, making the Head Officials in high spirits. Only, she knew he was so much more than that. If asked to describe her tortured lover, her response would be that General Walker was a tantalizing dark man, capable of corruption bled from the mentally wounds scarring his heart. A heart that pattered slowly like a beaten down drum, battered and bruised. Her hands, whimpers, love, and lips could only do so much for this man.
She was swept away, fallen out of favor in his arms. His gnarled, repulsive, red hand ricocheted against her soft face. The general had a habit of letting his immoral self augment from the depths of his chaotic mind.
Grasping her wrist after she had faintly pressed her fingertips to her burning, stricken face, General Walker once more pushed her vivacious body against him, snapping her wrist with a contorted grin. Her lips parted as a whimper escaped from her throat, although the woman was used to the cruel treatment by now. It had become a habit, a custom, when the sun fell and the night became a prison.
Not one finder nor exorcist would ever make the assumption that Allen would, one of the greatest generals, would be possessive enough to his lover to draw forth her pain for pleasure. There was numerous times where his insecurities surrounding love, due to Cross and Mana, overrode him, mutating him into corruption.
"Lenalee," He would always beckon, crimson eyes smoldering in red flames that reflected the fierceness pooling within his damaged heart. With his command, she would endure all for Allen Walker. The arguing, the pain, the roughness, and the coldness.
All of this for him. For the love she bore.
He was her death to come and she welcomed it with wide open arms, daring to be taken away.