A/N: Extremely short little piece.
I can't say I'm fond of it.
By the way, this is not an actual event. It's similar to some events that have happened, but it's not real.
There are no words spoken.
A startling moment, a flash of bright red, and hungerohgodthathunger crosses his vision, and he collapses on the floor, his dry cough echoing throughout the little room. A droplet of sweat splashes onto the floor, and his hands clench, his fingernails engraving dark crescent moons in the skin of his palm. An inhuman noise escapes his throat, and he can almost taste it on his tongue; the desire is driving him crazy.
She does not offer any words of worry or surprise as she usually would have. Instead, she kneels down next to him, unsheathes her kodachi, and lays it in his palm before loosening her collar to expose the creamy, unmarked skin underneath.
He does not apologize when the blade bites through that perfect skin, nor when a bead of fiery red leaks out. When his tongue involuntarily slips out to catch the falling droplet, she does not flinch or make a sound. The only sound to be heard is their breathing, loud and soft and the same time.
When his hair fades back to black and his eyes to purple, he pulls back, and she silently shifts her collar back into place. He places her sword back in her hand, and she places it back in its sheath in return. His tongue darts out to clean up any remaining blood around his mouth, and she glances at him. He gives her a small nod, and a small smile traces her lips.
She then quietly stands up and after a small bow to him, picks up an empty tea tray and leaves the room. He stands up as well, and watches her go. Then he sits back down at his desk and picks up his brush once more. Before long he has sunk back into his usual routine. He is only focused on how to defeat the New Government Forces now, and nothing else.
There are no words spoken, for actions speak louder than words.
Yeah, uh, I don't really like it .-.
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