Title: Heaven In Your Eyes.
Prompt: Theme 16: "Look."
Rating: Older Teen, vague references to sex.
Author's Notes: Whooo, first chapter! I knew there was no way in hell I could go in order, so I just picked one that struck me. Unfortunately, FF is not very html-friendly, so if you'd like the link to the master list, all I can say is go to my profile and click my LJ. It's a public entry, so you should easily be able to find it.
Disclaim: I need not one! I am ... Nomura Hiasobi? ... No. Just ... just no.
He saw electricity in her eyes. As cliché as it sounded, it only made him feel alive, to be able wallow in memories that could only be substantial enough for simple satisfaction. There was only room for one.
When those hues were imprisoned in full golden lashes, he felt the memory of sadness flicker behind his mind. And then she read that book—that horrible, vile tome—her eyes were open for hours. Amusement would glitter in the crystal depths and make her lips curl the way, transversely, his insides coiled.
In fact, when they had very first met, he had been lost in the brilliant azure and verdant hues. She only regarded him with contempt, sleek flaxen brows furrowed indignantly; demanding to know what he was looking at with a visage that more than told him she felt like a cornered animal.
But he hadn't meant to corner her; he only wanted to touch her, this creature that he knew would worm beneath his skin.
Now, well … he was holding her, stroking her, making her elicit all the soft sounds of a woman who could have been, might have been in love at some point.
Even when he touched her with the most clandestine means, she kept her eyes open for him, those radiant depths practically glowing at him through the darkness.
No, not just her eyes … all of her.
All of her illuminated his path. The soft curve of her spine the road he would travel to attain his desires, pressing petal-soft kisses against the arches of her shoulder blades: up, up, climbing the alabaster to meet his lips on her jaw.
That electricity was on him in a flash, and it crackled in his every nerve, making him growl in the purest sense, so feral for the confirmation that she was his and his alone. And when she kissed him, took his lips upon hers with the softest grace one would think no Savage Nymph could muster, he melted to her, and each mound and depression fit so perfectly.
"Why do you do that?"
The question had come from out of the blue, and he tilted his head up from his gardening to regard her with a curious gaze. Anxiety—or what could have been anxiety—pooled in the depths of his stomach, but nigh did he let it show on his face.
"What ever do you mea—?"
He was interrupted. "When you look at me … why do you look at me like that? You're the only one in this condemned place that looks me in the eye."
He paused to consider. Oh, into the throes of passion he could pull her into, or the wiles of lust she could be siphoned unto: or would he be given a chance to sooth the trapped fiend she still seemed to be?
"I like them. Your eyes, I mean."
And suddenly that blue-green heaven turned sinful, wicked and delicious, the preemptive heralding of something … magnificent.
Sweet nymph, just look where we are now.