Disclaimer: I don't own.
Warning: Implied violence and weird use of a bedtime prayer.
The cherry tinted fabric twists around the slender body in front of him, he thinks that this colour, this exact shade, is beautiful on the other. His gaze shifts to lock on his own pale fingers as they wrap into the grimy locks of his dance partner, moving steadily until the darling shade is there too. His partner has long since calmed to stillness, simply whispering to himself quietly each morning.
"Now I lay me down to sleep-"
He hums an old melody under his breath, a Russian lullaby meant to sooth. The tune unintentionally blocks out the other's voice, first words of the new day. The song's original meaning, left behind in years of pain and twisted from corruption, has disappeared. The words lost over time, until all that remains is the tune and the vague memory of short blond hair and blue-grey eyes crinkling at the corners. Drops of pedals encircle the two of them in a deep puddle of roses, leaving the surrounding tile the same pale shade as his partner's exquisite flesh.
"I pray the lord my soul to keep."
The whispered words, gilded and honey sweet, are danced across the stale air to unaware ears. The meaning itself matter not; he listens only to the soft voice, unrecognizable and shaking with an emotion he can't, doesn't attempt to, identify. The only thing that matters is the tone and pitch, the way his partner's voice blends with his. It isn't long until the lullaby is twisted for the two to better fit together.
"And if I die before I wake-"
He traces his hands along lightly shivering skin, reveling in the catch and smear of lovely ruby liquid in the ridges and valleys of his own fingerprints against this most precious person's flesh. The moist lines and specks create absolutely beautiful patterns, pictures for him to admire. Droplets of excess liquid roll from the soft porcelain, steadily adding to the pool already forming on the dark floor surrounding them.
"I pray the lord-"
Translucent fluid stains his partner's cheeks before tumbling off to intermingle with the lines of ruby. He smiles down at the other, not noticing how the nearly soundless voice is hitching and breaking sharply with every gasped breath. The shivering has become almost violent, reaching the point that the other's knees give out, leaving him to hold up the limp nation by himself. The body is lighter than it should be, not nearly enough flesh to be healthy.
"my soul to keep."
The words trail away into nothingness, falling back into silence for the remainder of the day, but he doesn't notice. Instead he continues to dance to the sighed lullaby, holding the now motionless body to his chest as they twirl. Their feet trail peacefully through the blood that contaminates the massive, empty house, as they are lit by the rising sun.
I finally did it! A non-romance story~~. I don't like how it turned out, but at least there isn't any romance. It's weird and kind of fluffy seeming, even though it's also really not... It was written really brokenly, so please point out any weirdness or anything.
Also, I did my best not to say anything about who he's with, I don't think the person is important to him anymore, he just kinda needs someone there...
Thank you so much for reading! Please review? It'd make me crazy happy!