Teach Me Crazy.
A/N; Okay. So this was a bit random... aaand unexpected. I was watching FFVII and while drooling over Kadaj an idea popped into my head.
Not the best I've written, but I like it. So I hope you will too.
Disclaimer; Seriously. If I owned FF I wouldn't be sitting here. One can have dreams though ,
He hated the world.
He had screamed those exact words at me once.
He hated his life, his fate, his family, his everything.
He even told me he hated me…
He told me he wanted to kill me. He told me he would.
Yet every time he tried to his hands started shaking and a pained expression washed over his face.
He had stolen me away from them; my family, my life, my betrothed.
He had stolen me away from them to keep me to himself.
He didn't like it when other people touched me, he said.
I was his hostage, his prize, his anchor.
I was nothing, but everything.
I wanted to hate him, and I did… I hated how much I loved him.
How much he fascinated me, how much he drew me in with one single look.
He told me he felt sick just by being around me.
But I knew he was dying without me.
He tried hurting me several times, only to wound up hurting himself.
And I would always be there to hold him, to sway him, to make it all go away.
I would be there to comfort the one I should hate the most.
The one who wanted to kill me, to hate me, to see me die.
He loved telling me he hated me.
He loved making me hurt, only to be the one to make it better.
No-body else could touch me, comfort me, and hurt me – only him.
Even when climbing on top of me there on the blood-smeared floor he would tell me he hated me.
Even with tears staining his cheeks, and his silver locks glued to his forehead he would say it.
And yet I would be the one comforting him, kissing away his tears, brushing away his hair.
Yet I would love him, let him touch me, let him kiss me, bite me, hurt me.
Yet I would cry out his name every time his naked skin touched mine.
Even with the cold tile floor and shattered glass digging into my back I wouldn't complain, wouldn't call out anything but his name.
And he would try not to care; he would try to be selfish, to only mind his own needs.
Yet he would always end up kissing me; placing small butterfly-kisses almost as if to apologize, to make it all better.
And he would claim me, over and over again.
And he would silently whisper he loved me.
Over and over again, 'till his voice slowly started to fade into nothing.
Glass would cut into his palms, but he would never even flinch.
His hands would leave bloody trails wherever he touched, but I wouldn't mind.
He was a monster, but my monster.
Mine to take care of; mine to comfort, and mine to love.
And I did love.
Everything from those cat-like eyes, to the silver hair and that twisted mind of his.
Yet we were like day and night.
Which is exactly what drove him crazy.
He didn't want to love me.
He didn't want to think about me, to have me in his head.
But he did. He was obsessed with me.
With my purity, my kindness, my way.
And he tried everything he could to shatter that, to break me.
Instead he only wound up breaking himself.
But God, did I love him.
From the very first drop of blood, to the very last.