Notes: This is a companion piece to 'Devotion', only this is Rosiel's side
of the story. I was inspired to write this by all the positive feedback,
most notably that of the oh-so-kind Zoey Hellmaster, who screamed for a
sequel. I hope this does not disappoint you. The angels belong to Kaori
Yuki. Lucky woman.
Domination
She turned me away, again. I don't know how she manages to do that every single time. Am I not beautiful?
I cornered the mortal housing her in his soul, Mudo Setsuna, in an alley. When his sister suddenly arrived, I attacked her. It did serve to awaken my sister, but all she did was admonish me before leaving with the girl. She didn't even try to fight me at all!
Nobody has the right to insult me like that! Not even her! I can't remember ever being so angry before! Of course, that pathetic little puppy, Katan, following me around didn't help to assuage my anger. Perhaps it was a little harsh of me to beat him, but I wasn't rational.
Looking around my broken wreck of a room, I notice the similarities between it and my broken wreck of a soul. How appropriate. Well, I suppose I should go apologize to Katan. He's probably brooding on this evil beast that I have become. He doesn't realize I know he feels that way, but I can see it in his eyes. I frighten him. I can't say that I don't understand why. I often frighten myself.
This little breakdown has been worse than those previous to it. My remaining sanity is slipping away more rapidly. I doubt I have much time left. My beauty.. I will be. No. I mustn't think of the hideous creature I was before. I am beautiful. I know this. Why are there tears in my eyes? I must find Katan.
I shove open the cracked oak door and make my way down the hall, peering into every room I pass. He is in a small, unoccupied room, sitting and staring out the window. I watch him for several minutes. He is certainly beautiful. I made him that way. I needed a beautiful companion, after all.
Finally I tire of my need to watch, and begin to desire more. Softly, I enter the room. He knows I am here, but refuses to look at me. His only sign of insubordination. It will not last.
"Katan," I whisper. "Katan, look at me, please." I know I look wretched. My hair is mussed from my tantrum, and there are tear streaks on my face. He will still call me beautiful.
Obligingly he looks at me and in his eyes I see longing and. protectiveness? He wishes to protect me? From what? Myself?
When did the protected become the protector?
Gently I put my hand on his cheek. He keeps his eyes on me, but on my forehead, or lips. He doesn't meet my eyes again. "My dear Katan. I'm sorry." Only then do his eyes meet mine and I see the adoration in them. "I didn't mean to hurt you, my dear cherub," I continue, seeking to justify my actions. It is a waste of time. He is not angry. Yet I feel I must. "You were just around when I was angry. You should have known better than to follow me around when I am angry." Why do I make it his fault? He has done nothing wrong! Damn my foolish pride!
"You are right, Rosiel-sama," he agrees, bowing his head. No, you fool! I am wrong! Please, don't agree with me! Argue! Protest! Don't let me be right when I am not! "It's just-."
My eyebrow raises. Something he doesn't wish me to know? How interesting. Now he has my interest piqued. "Look at me, Katan." My voice comes out more sharply than I had intended. Why am I so curious about this?
I lean in close, and when he raises his eyes, I stare into them. I am not surprised. His every action screams out the truth of the emotions that I find. My Katan loves me, unconditionally. Oh, Katan. That touches me more than you will ever know, as I am too stubborn to tell you.
Knowing that the words will never pass my lips, I opt for another approach. Catching him completely off guard, I kiss him. I have thought idly about doing it many times, and now I actually am. I must confess I am surprised with myself.
The mere contact of lips on lips is not enough, and I slip into his lap, straddling him. He sits there, completely shocked, or so I assume. "Why do you not hold me, Katan?" I ask, breaking from his lips for just a moment. "Why do you not kiss me back?"
This brings him back to his senses. I made him strong as well. I can feel the strength in the arms that encircle me, in the lips pressing urgently against mine.
Even this is not enough. I disengage our lips and begin kissing his neck, occasionally nipping the tender skin. He will have bruises tomorrow. I doubt he will mind. "Do you adore me, Katan?" I breathe in his ear.
His gentle hands work their way into my hair. "Always." He has been dreaming of this for a long time as well.
"Do you worship me?"
"I always have."
"Do you love me?"
"Eternally," he gasps as I nip his earlobe and begin undoing those troublesome buttons and trail my hands across his chest.
"Are you mine?" Please, Katan, give me the answer my sister never will!
"Body, heart and soul."
"Then take me to your bed," I whisper. He is quick to comply, standing up while still holding me. To make it easier for him, I hook my legs around his waist and my arms lock around his neck. His heart is racing.
We reach his room quickly, but not quickly enough in my opinion. I can wait no longer. His clothing is removed so rapidly it is as if it has completely vanished in the instant. My hands and lips and eyes roam over his entire body. He gasps, moans and writhes beneath me, yet though his body is in turmoil, I can tell his mind is clear. He is striving to remember every detail of this. After all, it may be the only time I take him to bed. Even I don't know if I will repeat this.
For him, this is an almost spiritual experience. For me, it is a way of working out my tension and desires. He is just convenient. As my body moves on top of and within his, I try to convince myself of that.
Domination
She turned me away, again. I don't know how she manages to do that every single time. Am I not beautiful?
I cornered the mortal housing her in his soul, Mudo Setsuna, in an alley. When his sister suddenly arrived, I attacked her. It did serve to awaken my sister, but all she did was admonish me before leaving with the girl. She didn't even try to fight me at all!
Nobody has the right to insult me like that! Not even her! I can't remember ever being so angry before! Of course, that pathetic little puppy, Katan, following me around didn't help to assuage my anger. Perhaps it was a little harsh of me to beat him, but I wasn't rational.
Looking around my broken wreck of a room, I notice the similarities between it and my broken wreck of a soul. How appropriate. Well, I suppose I should go apologize to Katan. He's probably brooding on this evil beast that I have become. He doesn't realize I know he feels that way, but I can see it in his eyes. I frighten him. I can't say that I don't understand why. I often frighten myself.
This little breakdown has been worse than those previous to it. My remaining sanity is slipping away more rapidly. I doubt I have much time left. My beauty.. I will be. No. I mustn't think of the hideous creature I was before. I am beautiful. I know this. Why are there tears in my eyes? I must find Katan.
I shove open the cracked oak door and make my way down the hall, peering into every room I pass. He is in a small, unoccupied room, sitting and staring out the window. I watch him for several minutes. He is certainly beautiful. I made him that way. I needed a beautiful companion, after all.
Finally I tire of my need to watch, and begin to desire more. Softly, I enter the room. He knows I am here, but refuses to look at me. His only sign of insubordination. It will not last.
"Katan," I whisper. "Katan, look at me, please." I know I look wretched. My hair is mussed from my tantrum, and there are tear streaks on my face. He will still call me beautiful.
Obligingly he looks at me and in his eyes I see longing and. protectiveness? He wishes to protect me? From what? Myself?
When did the protected become the protector?
Gently I put my hand on his cheek. He keeps his eyes on me, but on my forehead, or lips. He doesn't meet my eyes again. "My dear Katan. I'm sorry." Only then do his eyes meet mine and I see the adoration in them. "I didn't mean to hurt you, my dear cherub," I continue, seeking to justify my actions. It is a waste of time. He is not angry. Yet I feel I must. "You were just around when I was angry. You should have known better than to follow me around when I am angry." Why do I make it his fault? He has done nothing wrong! Damn my foolish pride!
"You are right, Rosiel-sama," he agrees, bowing his head. No, you fool! I am wrong! Please, don't agree with me! Argue! Protest! Don't let me be right when I am not! "It's just-."
My eyebrow raises. Something he doesn't wish me to know? How interesting. Now he has my interest piqued. "Look at me, Katan." My voice comes out more sharply than I had intended. Why am I so curious about this?
I lean in close, and when he raises his eyes, I stare into them. I am not surprised. His every action screams out the truth of the emotions that I find. My Katan loves me, unconditionally. Oh, Katan. That touches me more than you will ever know, as I am too stubborn to tell you.
Knowing that the words will never pass my lips, I opt for another approach. Catching him completely off guard, I kiss him. I have thought idly about doing it many times, and now I actually am. I must confess I am surprised with myself.
The mere contact of lips on lips is not enough, and I slip into his lap, straddling him. He sits there, completely shocked, or so I assume. "Why do you not hold me, Katan?" I ask, breaking from his lips for just a moment. "Why do you not kiss me back?"
This brings him back to his senses. I made him strong as well. I can feel the strength in the arms that encircle me, in the lips pressing urgently against mine.
Even this is not enough. I disengage our lips and begin kissing his neck, occasionally nipping the tender skin. He will have bruises tomorrow. I doubt he will mind. "Do you adore me, Katan?" I breathe in his ear.
His gentle hands work their way into my hair. "Always." He has been dreaming of this for a long time as well.
"Do you worship me?"
"I always have."
"Do you love me?"
"Eternally," he gasps as I nip his earlobe and begin undoing those troublesome buttons and trail my hands across his chest.
"Are you mine?" Please, Katan, give me the answer my sister never will!
"Body, heart and soul."
"Then take me to your bed," I whisper. He is quick to comply, standing up while still holding me. To make it easier for him, I hook my legs around his waist and my arms lock around his neck. His heart is racing.
We reach his room quickly, but not quickly enough in my opinion. I can wait no longer. His clothing is removed so rapidly it is as if it has completely vanished in the instant. My hands and lips and eyes roam over his entire body. He gasps, moans and writhes beneath me, yet though his body is in turmoil, I can tell his mind is clear. He is striving to remember every detail of this. After all, it may be the only time I take him to bed. Even I don't know if I will repeat this.
For him, this is an almost spiritual experience. For me, it is a way of working out my tension and desires. He is just convenient. As my body moves on top of and within his, I try to convince myself of that.