AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi guys~ ^-^ Umm well this is my first fanfic that I've ever written and uploaded so hopefully you guys like it!
Disclaimer: Everything, except the plot, belong to Natsuki Takaya.
Old Times Eireka
It hurt.
It always hurt.
He made sure it always hurt.
Even as he leaned over me, red eyes boring into purple, he made sure I knew how much he hated me. How badly he wanted to see me in pain.
And he did.
He did see.
And he enjoyed it.
He enjoyed thrusting into me, hearing me scream in barely contained agony as he tore me apart.
He enjoyed it.
And I enjoyed it too.
It was the hate.
I needed that hate.
I needed to know that the only reason we did this was because of pent up hostility. I needed to be hurt so badly that I forgot how thing were when we didn't hate each other. It does hurt, and all the memories blur together in a mixture of colors.
I feel him leaving gentle kisses down my throat and his light caresses ghosting over my hips. He still showed hate, anytime someone was in the room he made sure his hate could be felt.
But he didn't hate me.
He couldn't hate me.
So I did it for him.
Late at night, when we were alone, he held me, whispered in my ear, treated me like I could break at any moment.
I could, I did.
I was scared.
Scared of what would happen if Akito found out.
So I made him hate me, spat out insults more venomous than he ever could. It worked; I could see it in his eyes. I made sure to mock him when we were together, our bodies slick with sweat, hands exploring, voices quavering, I made sure he knew I thought he was pathetic.
So it started, no more loving touches, just fucking. Not two people in love, just two rivals releasing their frustrations.
I hated it.
But I loved it, needed it.
And so he would always hurt me, and he would finally get to shut me up and pay me back for my insults.
Just like now.
Painful thrusts, bone breaking grips.
I always closed my eyes after we finished.
I didn't want to see his face when he saw the tears running down my cheeks. Didn't want to see what was in his eyes as he slowly pulled out and held me.
I couldn't face him.
Because, after all I did and said, he still wrapped the blanket around us and whispered what I was afraid to hear.
"I love you."
He missed the old times.
And I missed them too.
So how bad was it? .
Reviews will be loved, flames will be used to keep me warm.