Bandaging a Soul
A/N: I wrote this while I was very sick and very tired so I'm not sure how good it is. Its probably not that good, but its just a cute little Tendershipping. I hope you like it.
The cuts he made were deep, long, painful. But I couldn't pull myself to look away. The way the knife collided with his forearm and traveled south seemed so... beautiful. A sacred ritual almost.
I know, I know. What kind of sick fuck thinks that cutting yourself was beautiful? But you don't understand, you couldn't. The way he does it justifies everything. The way he watches the blood seep out of him, his eyes glassy, yet they held no pain. Desire perhaps? Yes. That seemed to be the perfect way to describe that gleam in his eyes. The desire for blood. He couldn't kill people anymore so instead, he resulting in drawing the blood from himself.
Finally, he finished. I walked over to him and took his knife away from him. "Why...?" I asked him, even though we both know I know why.
"Leave me, Ryou." He gasped out as I ran my finger along one of his newly formed cuts. Dragging it along, then I pulled my finger off, bringing it to my lips. But he caught my arm and licked his own blood off of my finger.
"You know I can't, Bakura." And with that I began washing his blood away, bandaging his cuts.
Then, I began washing his tears away, kissing him softly on the lips, bandaging his soul.