Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss, as much as I wish I did... Koyasu, can't I have even one of them for Christmas? Pwease?!
Summary: I'm not going to tell you the POV it's from, you should be able to figure it out. Besides, you'll find out at the end. There will also be a second chapter to this, only to be the opposite POV of the one that's being thought of throughout this. Please everyone, review and tell me how I did on this. I wrote it in my head last night, but I couldn't remember all the words exactly when I tried to remember it, so I'm not sure if it's as good. I hope you enjoy it!
Dedications: This fanfic is dedicated to my lovely KenKen... I love you koi. ^----^
His tangy, bitter taste fills my mouth and I cringe. His blonde strands brush across his cheeks as his head tilts back, a hoarse moan and choked cry escaping from his lips. I lick up the last drops of him and lean back, only to catch him as his knees give out and I find him in my arms. I cringe once more as his pink lips brush across mine, his tongue slipping past. His lips against my ear whispered to me his declaration of love, like he did every night, and I could only sit there and pretend I loved him. His course hands wraps around me, bringing me close to his body, his warmth. Closing my eyes, I sighed. I didn't love him. I didn't ever love him. Every night, instead of his blonde hair and deep moans, I imagined crimson lips and sweet mutterings of I love you.' Could I never tell him I didn't love him? Could I ever set him over the edge? No. We were assassins. Any disruption of his emotional state could risk his life. My life. Bombay's life. His life. Eventually, his breathing became slow and even, and I sighed once more. I traced a heart upon his shoulder blade, and the image arose once more in my mind. The image of pale skin, crimson lips, sleek, slender hands caressing me. Oh, how I wanted him... but oh, how I could never have him.
Working in the flower shop, I always managed to place a work time with him. I watched his pale hands arrange the roses, his fingertips missing the thorns every time. My eyes traveled up his slim frame, lingering on his backside as he turned and yelled at the girls lingering around as they did every day. My fingers twitched at the yearning inside of me to touch him, to touch that sweet skin. My reverie was soon in shattered shards upon the floor as a large hand found itself around my waist, pulling me against a tall, lithe body. I moaned in despair, only to have it interpreted as a moan of longing by the man that held me. Whispering in my ear, he pulled me away from the flowers. I argued about leaving him alone, only to be stopped by Bombay bouncing in and taking my place. My eyes lingered to the one I truly wanted to be leaving with. Pulling me through the back door, he cornered me in the kitchen the four of us shared and pushed me fiercely against the refrigerator, kissing me harshly. His hand found itself up my shirt, fingertips brushing roughly over my nipples. I gasped into his mouth and longed to be free of him.
Sighing inward, I slipped into my fantasy I had created for such occasions as this. Instead of this long, roughly cut blonde hair against my cheek, it was soft, crimson strands as gentle kisses were placed along my neck, his soft hands slowly caressing me. Ragged breathes were always sweet with him, my heart jumping every time he licked my ear, his teeth nibbling it ever so gently. His hand slipped down my body, into my pants, caressing me as he did the flowers; carefully, so as not to disrupt their beauty. Tightly I shut my eyes, wanting and wishing so much for the man fucking me to be him... to be my crimson haired teammate... I moan out his name, rolling it over my tongue, loving the way it feels on me lips. Only do I realize what I've done when the hands upon my skin stop abruptly, and a voice whispers hoarsely, asking me what I've just said.
I choke out a simple nothing, but he doesn't believe me... he heard me loud and clear what I said. Wet hot tears roll down my skin as his hand balls into a fist upon my chest. Over and over again he asks me why. I can't answer, only blink away the tears. The fist upon my chest grabs my shirt, and pulls me forward. Green eyes meet mine and he growls. He yells at me how stupid I am for loving another man, that he's all that I ever need to be happy, and he's the best I'll ever find to fuck me properly. With his other hand he rips off my clothing and pushed me to the ground, all the while telling me to love him, and only him. Unzipping his pants, he turns me over and enters me, pain shooting up my body like a lightning bolt. In and out, he finds a rhythm, whispering in my ear that he loves me, and he doesn't want to hurt me. He tells me this is the only way I'll ever realize he's the only one for me. I can't help but cry, the tears falling slowly at first, but soon coming in waves, soaking my skin. Choking out a cry, he tells me to shut up, lest the others hear and realize what he's doing to me.
I can't imagine my lovely instead of this beast, I can't ruin my fantasy of my crimson haired love. My insides pulse with pain as his bitter love pours into me. Releasing me, he holds me tightly, attempting to kiss away the damage he's done. Shakily, I pull away, gathering my clothes and attempting to dress. I notice blood on the tile, and I realize with a shock that it's mine. I choke back a cry and hurridly pull my shirt over my bruised torso, red imprints upon my skin showing the mark of his teeth and lips as they made their way over my body. I cringe and quickly make me way upstairs to my room. I can hear him crying, rocking back and forth, asking himself what he's done. I reach my door and stand there, my forehead pressed against the wood. Glancing over to the door of the room next to mine, I long to be in there... in his bed. I've already lost enough, why not, I ask myself. Stepping in front of his door, I open it and walk in, absorbing his scent. The room, I noticed, was plain... nothing to make it look like his own. On a plain dresser I noticed a picture of his sister. My heart went out to him, knowing what it was like to lose a loved one. I allowed my body to sprawl on his bed, bringing his pillow close to my body. It smelled like roses. Just like he always did. Freely I let the tears fall upon his pillow, sinking deeper into my despair.
In my mind I imagined him walking in, surprised by my presence, but not bothered. Sitting next to me, he would runs his fingers through my hair and lay next to me, hugging me close. I knew he would never do such a thing. I knew his icy heart wouldn't allow such feeling, but I wished it did. Oh, how I wished he loved me as I loved him. I wished, and longed, and prayed every night, just for him to hold me once. Just to love me, to make all this pain go away. I blink and realize that I've fallen asleep. Through blurry eyes, I look around, and realize that someone's laying behind me, their arm around my waist, holding me tightly to them. Fear pulsing through my heart, I look at the man beside me, fearing it to be the one who raped me back for more. My eyes grow wide as my eyes are met with his. Those narrow amethyst eyes are staring right into mine, his pale face framed by wisps of crimson hair, his lips parted slightly. He's looking at me, expecting me to say something. In the back of my mind it slowly registers that both of us are under the covers... under his covers. I smile and whisper what I've been longing to say to him. I hold my breath in hanging suspense, waiting for him to snarl in disgust, or glare at me, or do something of the normal icy personality he owns. Instead, he whispers back to me, and my body relaxes. Finally I've heard the words from his lips, at last I've heard him say it. Once more he whispers it to me... once more from his lips escape the words I've been longing to hear.
I love you too, Ken, his lips caress my skin as he whispers it and I smile, making a permanent place for myself within his arms.
