"I know you're there Bakura." Kisa muttered, leaning against the cold tile wall of the shower as hot water sprayed across her chest.
"How?" a voice with a rough British accent questioned.
"I could hear you breathing."
"Over the shower?" He didn't believe her. She sighed.
"Yes, over the shower. And I can see your reflection in the mirror. Kindly get out before I throttle you." she said sweetly. He laughed and she heard him hop up on the sink.
"I am bored Kisa. Ryou locked himself in your room and refuses to amuse me." he complained.
"You should really stop tormenting him. You'll drive him insane." She sank down onto the bench that protruded from the wall. It wasn't unusual that Bakura would join her in the bathroom while she showered. It wasn't that he wanted anything from her or wanted to sneak a peek. He just wanted some kind of company.
"Perhaps I want him insane." he retorted stubbornly. She stood up and popped her head out of the shower to catch his expression. To the untrained eye, he would look exactly like he usually does. Annoyed, sadistic and quite insane. But to her, he looked lonely.
"No, you don't." she replied, knowing he agreed, not that he'd ever admit it though. "And put my necklace down. I don't want it disappearing like all the others." she snapped, giving him an annoyed glare. He sighed and dropped the necklace where she'd left it.
"Kleptomaniac." Kisa muttered, rolling her eyes and putting her face under the warm spray.
"I was once the Thief King you know." he laughed, probably picking the necklace back up and pocketing it. It didn't really matter to her, since he'd given it to her anyway, if you call throwing it at her upon coming home 'giving'. She would probably get it back eventually.
Bakura was an odd one alright. She'd known him for a little less than a year now. Meeting him for the first time had been interesting to say the least.
"I expected you to be older. You sounded it on the phone when you answered my add for a roommate. But I'm glad you're closer to my age." Ryou had said cheerfully. She'd shrugged and looked around the living room.
"You already have a roommate." She'd noted, seeing a pair of shoes by the door that obviously didn't belong to Ryou. He'd bitten his lip, as if he'd been caught doing something wrong.
"So, when can I move in?" She'd asked.
"Is now too soon?" he'd laughed, but immediately stopped when Bakura had entered the room. She'd noticed how alike they looked, but could tell that they held no relation. He'd stalked toward her, in an attempt to intimidate her probably, and walked around her, circling like a hungry wolf.
"She'll do." he'd said in a low, slightly menacing tone.
"Bakura, don't." Ryou had warned him, though she wasn't sure what about. Obviously, Ryou had been ignored, because a moment later, she'd felt a slight tug on her wrist. She realized that he'd pulled off her gold bracelet and whirled on him immediately.
Luckily for her, he'd had his back near the wall and it only took a bit of pressure to back him against it. She'd wrapped her hand gently around his throat and smiled sweetly.
"Give it back. Bakura, was it?" she'd asked. He'd given her a fearsome glare and a snarl, but he did hand it back to her. She'd let him go and turned to a horrified Ryou.
"So, could you help me? I've got a huge mattress to drag up the stairs."
"Ouch!" she yelped, pulling herself from the reminiscence. She looked at her hand and saw blood dripping from her palm down her fingers. She'd been reaching for the soap dish and had accidentally grabbed a shaving razor instead.
"What happened?" Bakura asked, in a slightly concerned tone.
"I cut my hand." she whined, wrapping her good hand around her wrist to stop some of the blood. A pale hand reached through the curtain and shut the water off before throwing said curtain open. He'd gazed at her body for a moment before wrapping a towel around her. He watched as the blood dripped onto his bare arm and unconsciously licked his lips.
She hadn't noticed before, but now, being held by him, she realized that he'd taken his shirt off. He took her hand off of her wrist and made her sit on the shower bench.
"You're a klutz." he muttered, running his fingertip over the open wound. She shivered, as it felt painful, but equally good.
"Sadist." Kisa whined.
"Masochist." he countered. She pulled her hand back from him and licked a trickle of blood that ran down her wrist. She saw his mouth open and close out of the corner of her eye, as if he was trying to taste the blood. She smirked and lapped at the cut in her hand. Just as she closed her eyes, she felt him grab her wrist and pull her hand away.
"Share." he growled and put her wounded palm to his lips. To most who met Bakura, he seemed cold through and through, but his lips were pleasantly warm against her skin. His tongue lapped gently at the cut, thoroughly cleaning the blood from her hand.
She watched, fascinated by how gentle he was being. She'd expected him to rip into her like a steak, but even his grip on her wrist was tender. For a moment - a split second - she saw innocent Ryou before her. That image was quickly destroyed when he lifted his face from her hand.
Blood had turned his lips a bright red that contrasted with his pale skin. The crimson liquid trickled from the side of his mouth and dripped onto his chest. It reminded her of a small red drop in a sea of cream. Without thinking, she reached out and wiped the red drop from his chest. Any normal - sane - person would expect to be dismembered for daring to lay a hand on him.
He wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her to her feet. He was only half a foot taller than her, but now he seemed to tower over her. Their bodies were close and he could feel the warm steam rising from her skin.
"Why aren't you frightened?" he asked, his voice low and almost growling. It was an unusually tender tone for him to use though.
"Is there a reason to be?" she asked, stepping closer to him. He stiffened when her damp body touched his, but something about her made him relax.
"I'm an evil spirit from ancient Egypt that was trapped inside a cursed artifact that was made from the blood of ninety-nine criminals. You should be terrified." he whispered in a rough voice, looking down to avoid her gaze.
"I know all that. I've never seen the significance or anything scary about it though." she admitted, earning a rather surprised look from Bakura. He pressed his hand to her shoulder and pushed her gently against the wall. His hand slid up from her shoulder to her neck and wrapped around it. He tilted her face up and stared into her eyes.
"Are you afraid now?" he asked in a low but unthreatening growl.
"No." she replied. The fact that his face was mere centimeters from hers was not lost on her. He hated closeness and anyone who dares to enter his personal space was usually punished severely. But he was this close to her by choice. She decided to be brave and crush the boundaries she'd been made to create.
She reached up and touched his cheek, tracing his jaw with her fingertips. His eyes remained locked with hers, as though he hadn't noticed. Her hand moved down to his neck and came to rest on his collar bone. She'd never noticed it before, but there were small scars covering his chest.
"Pharaoh." he explained when he realized she'd noticed the scars he'd gotten from Slifer in Battle City. He was sure Ryou had told her the stories of when he'd inhabited the other boy's body.
Her hands sent warm, tingling sensations through his body as they caressed each small mark on his chest. It was becoming impossible to control what he wanted to do to her. He hand on her throat tightened just barely as his other hand found itself tangled in her wet hair. He had to decide now which urge he would satisfy or he was afraid he'd go insane - or more so.
He pressed his lips to hers and immediately realized he'd made the better - more satisfying - choice. It took her a brief moment of surprise, but she responded quickly began kissing him back. He nipped her bottom lip, demanding entrance and his demand was eagerly met. Their tongues fought for dominance, but after a soft growl and a tightened grip on her hair, she allowed him to win. After a few heated moments of passion they pulled apart for a breath.
"That was much more satisfying than killing you would have been." He smirked at the 'of course' look she gave him.
"You're twisted Bakura. You really are." And he was most content with that assessment, even giving her his first genuine - and as close to sane as he got - smile.