Rainbow Smiles Sweet as Salt
Fran x Mukuro
The horns of thousand murdered horned men was the fence around the small garden, built up walls of defense against any intruders. Carefully measured strokes were placed in the frozen chocolate-cream-pathway that reached up to the table. It stood on a carpet of nails, which bent and crackled as you would step upon it.
Small skulls, each carved carefully out of sweet clay, decorated the platters of food. Long candles that reached all the way to the sky vanished high above into the darkness. The only light that was emitted from them was what might even be stars. The table-cloth was woven out of golden ebony, decorated with silver rubies and bloody ivory.
The food in itself was just as extravagant. It had the rainbow's all colors, and the drinking fountain that stood between the masters seat and the companion's chair was spilling golden honey for them to drink, per chance they became thirsty, even in a world like this.
The disciple lay asleep, sprawled across a bed of sullied, blood-drenched petals from thorn-flowers. The master lay beside, calmly brushing aquatic hair out of a peaceful face. He is calm, also, and he lean across the boy, and the sky ripples as he moves; moves around them as a silky sea of coconut-milk. Lips touch lips, and they come apart with a rosy hue of crimson and crystalline blue. A dull but very alive eye cracked open, lazily gazing into the soft glow of one red and one blue crystal. The apprentice blinked, and he raised a hand to rub dark, golden grains of sleep from his eyes. He spoke without having to part his lips more than a sliver of warm breath slipping out. Master? He asked, and the older male smiled. As he moved, his long hair fell in tresses much like the ocean, and he press his lips against the boys again. Quiet, little one. He say, and the apprentice close his eyes again. Mmm..?
The master caress his face, trails of burning sensations leaving marks upon the soft skin. In such a world, their annoyance isn't needed – however it has indeed visited on occasions – words spoken aloud is far from needed, even further from wished, even if those had made their visits as well.
This was their world, the masters' and the students', and no other presence were required, wanted, and this far, that was the only not wished for ingredient that had yet to invade their private haven of gore and sweet. Nor would it, because the world only ever exists inside of only their minds, far inside, locked away in safety.