Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the Final Fantasy Universe. I'm making no money from this short fic, so please don't sue. I ask that any who read this, PLEASE review. If you don't like it, say so. Pick the story apart, if you would. Enjoy!
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His hands slid over mine, fingertips trailing lightly over my palms. I sighed softly, eyes closed. His lips wandered over my exposed neck, nipping and biting, fingers dragging over flesh.
If anyone knew he could be like this, they might have laughed. On the outside, he looked far from a sensitive man. His exterior emotions comprised of various levels: steely, frigid and frozen. Rarely did his expressions change from frozen. Except with me.
His hand ran along the inside of my thigh. I hate when he does this. Why I agree to this, I never know. I want to touch him, feel him. And he knows. And he smirks, purposefully biting my nipple and roughly grinding my hips. I hiss, fingers gripping the sheets tightly, lip working its way between my lips so I won't react.
I know why.
I like it too. I like having the conflicting emotions as he fucks me. I 'm torn between breaking the rules to touch, grab, grope - anything. But, I know in the end he always makes it more than worth it.
I am his angel.
Hard to imagine that, considering our sins. My fingers dig deeper into the sheets, and weird noises escape my throat. The bed rocks viciously with each of his thrusts and I slowly lose my mind.
But I am his angel, as he is mine.
But our sins, which mark our bodies with scars and stain our souls black, do not allow us to be angels. Too many lives spent at our hands, too much blood. It surprises me, when I think about it, that we have not drown yet in the scarlet liquid. That we have not turned a permanent red color.
I scream, thrashing my head. It feels so good. but I can't touch him like I want to.
Just like I can't be his angel.
He, despite having released in my depths, straddled my waist. Red obscured my vision and he pushed the scarlet bangs from my eyes. He reminded me of a prized racing chocobo - always ready for another knew my limits, as I knew his though. Tonight he would not push those limits. Yet, at least.
The large man slid off my stomach, planting himself beside me and pulling me half on him. I could hear his heart throbbing in his chest.
That beating was for me. A fallen angel with wings of stone. I could not lift him to the heavens no matter how hard I tried. Though, I knew he would rather fall into the deepest pit of hell with me, than to be hefted into the sky without. My eyes slowly drifted up, slipping over his sweaty and bare chest, up his throat, to his lips and stopped at his eyes. They were closed now, as he tried to steady his breathing. Deep brown eyes opened to meet my own. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. Oh how I loved those lips. Those eyes. He may not realize it, but that's why I set out to "accidentally" break his sunglasses at ever opportunity. Until he started carrying more than one extra.
I smiled myself, eyes closing.
If I never became a real angel, that would be fine, so long as he was beside me.
A large hand cupped my chin, pulling me up for a kiss. Again, there was passion none but I was graced to see. Feel. My eyes half-lidded when he broke off.
"Rude..."
I whined softly, pressing my lips against his collar bone.
All else could keep their heavens, their hells.
I just needed my angel.
