I always thought I knew what love was. After over five hundred years of existence, as
well as what could of easily been that many lovers, I thought I knew everything there was
about love, lust, and sex. I'd slept with women and men, some hundreds of years younger
and some hundreds of years older. Thousands of different races, including my own.
Occasionally even a human or two thrown in.
I thought love was something fabled. I'd never experienced it with any of the beings I slept with. As far as I was concerned, it didn't exist. How could it, when I'd lain with hundreds of different people and felt nothing beyond lust? It was so easy to seduce them, or to allow others to seduce me, into bed. It was just as easy to leave afterward. Perhaps I was a whore of sorts, but I cannot name one person who came to my bed without being completely satisfied afterward.
As a human, my views have changed. On sex, anyway. As for love... I still believed love was nothing more than some pretense created so you could garuntee yourself sex with the lover who pleased you the most. As far as my own experiences had ever gone, that was what I knew.
Then I met him.
Of course, there had to be a kicker in there somewhere. Like all people, there had to come a time when my whole existence was jerked around, and I found myself wobbling as though on some sort of mental tightrope.
He attacked me in the park, and the first thought that came to my mind was... Well,
nothing really. I was too busy staring to do much thinking, my eyes caught on the way his
muscles flexed, the way his hair gleamed as he moved, the perfect fluidity to his
movements as he launched at me with his weapon. The way his ruby eyes caught me, held
me, and have yet to let me go.
At that instant, I fell in love.
It's almost sad, really. In the past, as a youko, I probably wouldn't of given him a second
glance. Well, perhaps a second, but not a third. He was a runt, dirty and develished,
beautiful perhaps in his own way, but certainly not in the way I would of noticed. He
wasn't the type to be seduced or to do the seducing. At that time, he wouldn't of even been
powerful enough to catch my attention.
I thought at first that it could of been the fact that I hadn't had sex for the sixteen years I've lived as a human that made me notice him. My second excuse was that I was simply hungry for another demon's companionship.
However, I have finally come to accept it, and to understand it. I've never kissed him,
never hugged him, never breathed a word of my feelings. Yet, every moment he spends
with me is precious and every word he says to me is cherished. When he stands close, my
knees go weak and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to casually run a hand
through his hair or across his cheek or over his chest.
Would he hate me if he knew? Would he pity me?
Sometimes, I pity myself. To live so long, not believing in love, only to find it cast upon me by the most unlikely person. I sometimes think that it isn't worth it, that I should just give up and return to the lifestyle I had before.
However, like most people, love forbids it of me. How can I lay in another's arms, when all I'll think about is him? How can I bear to hear another's words of affections, when the only person I want to hear them from is him.
Hiei... I hope that one day you'll come to return my feelings. Perhaps you'll even tell me.
Until then, I'll remain quietly loyal. Confused, a little, by the emotions I didn't know I could feel, but loyal all the same. Until the day you can turn your face to mine and smile the gentle smile that even I had hidden all along.