: Insomnia's Dream :
A/N: This is a Yuuki/Zero fic. The story is written from Yuuki's perspective and uses no names, just to make it more dream-like. It's reallllyy short, so hope you enjoy!
His hands—covering my ears. It was all I could feel in that moment. My head was leaned back, resting gently against the cold wall behind. My eyes shut as I blocked out everything I knew to be real in this world. Everything, but his hands.
If I didn't take away my own knowledge of existence—if I didn't block out absolutely everything, I wouldn't be able to think. I needed to think—but the warm sensation of his hands cupping my cheeks, covering my ears, caressing my face—
"What are you thinking about?"
—was all I could thing about. His question, interrupting my sensory experience, pierced through my mind like a knife. Had he just asked me what I was thinking—rather than telling me?
I inhaled slowly, my hands rising to meet his on their own accord.
"You," I replied simply, my fingers intertwining with his. I opened my eyes, pulling my head off the wall so I could meet his gaze for the fist time that night. He stared intently, an almost quizzical expression painting his features.
"That was bold," he said finally, his eyes never leaving mine. I could feel the intensity growing.
"Haven't I always been bold?" I whispered back, trying my hardest not to falter in the face of yet another man. He didn't reply, only continued to stare at me as though for the first time, he actually couldn't hear my thoughts.
Strangely enough, I had become comfortably aware of his hands encasing my simmering face. I didn't even feel my arms getting heavy, whilst my hands covered his own.
"So…" he began slowly, his expression careful. "What is it that you desire?" he finished, his eyes unfaltering still.
I felt something inside me jolt the moment he finished the question. My brow drew together in confusion while my eyes narrowed suspiciously. It was only then I had become aware of the world around me; the blaring music of the club shaking my insides, the flashing lights, and the unmistakable smell of drugs and sex, filling the air shamelessly.
My hands gently lost their grip, releasing his. They slid from my flushed face, half the makeup I spend an hour putting on pealing away with them. For that brief moment, I thought I would be free of him. Just as I made up my mind to step away from the situation, it was as though he had suddenly regained his uncanny ability to read minds—and those words rang through my already throbbing head.
"You will never be rid of me."
He took a step forward, backing me up into the wall while his hands found my face again. His head dipped down as he held mine in place, bringing our faces so close they could have touched. My heart seemed to be rocking my body harder than the bass coming from the giant speakers next to us. Was I really this afraid? I squeezed my eyes shut; desperately hoping it would stop him from looking inside of me with such ease.
"Show me your strength," he said evenly, his voice as steady as ever. "I want to see that power which tore him apart.
I jerked away then, or at least tried to, but he held me with such force I couldn't even turn my head the other way.
"I didn't tear anything!" I all but snapped.
"Oh, but you tore me," he choked, barely above a whisper. "Every single day, you tore me apart—let me put my broken pieces back together—then just tear me up again."
He didn't bother hiding the strain in his voice as he spoke through gritted teeth. His eyes I couldn't even begin to describe, for what I saw there was nothing short of terrifying.