((Disclaimer: I do not own 'Monsuno'. 'Monsuno' belongs to its rightful owner/owners.))
(Author's notes: Hello again! It's been a while. I apologise for that on my part – I'm very sorry. I just want to say before I begin this story a couple of things. The first being that this story may be intended for older viewers due to its 'T' rating. The second is that this story is slightly AU but not entirely, if that makes sense. Thank you, and please review.)
"No!" The girl's light ice blue eyes seemed to screech in sync with her actual voice. She fussed, scrabbling away from the looming figure before her, kicking her feet in defence and opposition.
The figure, shrouded by the dark breath of the night, focused twin orbs of brown upon her angry and pale face. The twin pools of brown glazed over with the kiss of the minimal moonlight that shone upon them through the shabby window, a small wooden frame of cream white.
The shadow cleared its throat a couple times and clicked its tongue. It spoke finally, a rough yet hoarse voice filling the ears of the girl.
"Shut up and listen." Came the hiss of words that singed upon the throaty tongue. The girl froze for a matter of moments, backed up in the corner of 'their' bed in a small bundle of limbs. But as soon as the moment came over her, it seemed to have disappeared.
Folding her arms nimbly and hugging her knees, she lifted her chin and spat back in an equally dominant voice; "How dare you! How dare you suggest such a degrading matter to my face!" Her eyes narrowed, furiously. She found herself suddenly scrabbling back towards the man furiously, heart lit with the fire of humiliation.
She came to a halt just a few mere centimetres away from him and jabbed his chest with a sharp accusing finger.
"I said shut up!" The voice whispered again – although this time the 'whisper' was barely considered a 'whisper'. "Hear me through this! And keep your voice down! It's grating upon my ears!"
"What right do you have to tell me to 'shut up'?" The woman demanded voice just below a shout. "After suggesting such a thing! How did you expect me to react you buffoon?" The man shrugged, frown evident on his face and sighed a deep sigh of frustration.
"Listen to me Princess; I wanna get out of this mess as much as you do. Perhaps even more. And if this be the only way, so be it." He grabbed her wrist and squeezed it hard, a little aggressively. "And you're gonna follow through with this whether you like it or not." He hissed eyes narrow.
Thrashing about wildly, the woman yanked her wrist from his grasp and clutched at it with her own hand. In the dim of the moonlight, the man could see a small purple mark splayed across her white skin in the form of clutched fingers. He frowned.
"No! I refuse! It's bad enough being by your side every waking hour!" Her heart beat fast with the effects of adrenaline. "And I refuse to allow you to make up my mind for me! I refuse to succumb myself to a man in such a way!"
"Well I don't care what you think! I wasn't asking your opinion." The man shot back. "I'm not staying here any longer."
His hand shot out and attached itself to her shoulder.
He gripped it hard enough that his knuckles turned white.
"I'm not spending another day here! We're leaving tomorrow! And I don't care what you think about this whole situation." With his other hand, he forced the woman's chin up so that her face was level with his. He leant forward and crushed his forehead against hers in a dominant matter.
His eyes seemed to be on fire.
"That's an order from your husband, Jinja."
"No!" She cried, floundering. "I am not your wife! I will never be your wife, Dax!" The man, Dax, frowned at her deeply before releasing her roughly. She fell to the floor, a bundle of hollow bones and dry skin. He paused in the doorway of her 'room' and turned to look back at her over her shoulder. She lay limply; face down on the cold, hard stone floor – a motionless figure.
"We're leaving tomorrow. Be awake before six. Don't be late."
Silence only ensured in an engulfing, crushing matter, swallowing up the two souls of two very different people.
One a man, the husband of the woman;
The other a woman, wife of the man.
The sound of the bedroom door's hinges creaked, welcoming the dead of night.
(It's a prologue, I guess. I only came up with it about half an hour ago, so I haven't really planned ahead yet. But please review if it sparks any interest at all. Thank you very much for taking the time to read this story – if you did. I'll see you soon.)