Dirty Promises
Chapter one: Breaking Hearts Of Black.
I have long ago lost count of the times I've seen this.
His arms lock around her in a protective bubble I've never been quite enough to provoke. His lips are gentle on hers, as if he's afraid to hurt her. As if she wasn't already dead.
There are no words between them. There is only a bond, only promises, only things that bind them so deeply that he almost doesn't see me at all. Because I am not quite her.
It's funny that she's never truly loved him at all. It's funny that he's never loved anyone more. Or maybe he has. Or maybe he doesn't know what love is.
I do.
I did, to the very bottom of the broken pieces of my heart. The very pieces that try to bind themselves back together after every blow, only to get torn apart again. And again. And again.
It's true that every good girl has a limit. There is only so far that smiling and forgiveness can take you. Only so much you can hold inside yourself before it eats you inside out. Before it blinds you, twists you, breaks you.
Then, and only then, can you see clearly.
Only after everything around you falls apart.
This time, I do not run home and cry.
I waited all week for this. Waited for him to sneak away while everyone went to sleep. To find her, to hold her and kiss her. To confess how much it hurt to be without her.
I waited, and while some blind hope still lingered that he has changed, I waited to be disappointed.
It takes all of two minutes for me to find the place, to find my heart in pieces on the floor again. But I needed this.
Maybe I was growing up. Maybe I got tired of being kicked while I was down. Maybe I just wasn't the good girl everyone expected me to be from the beginning.
But this time, I did not cry.
I watched, memorized, and engrained every touch between them in my memory. To remind me of why I will do this.
My heart could take no more tearing.
As I watched him trail his lips down her neck, watched his hands explore her clay flesh, the good girl inside me died. The good girl, with the golden heart, who would never hurt anyone. It was time to stop playing the hero, I can't save the world, and I can't save myself.
Maybe I was meant to be the villain.
Back at the camp, I watch the stars and try to think of a reason as to why I shouldn't do it.
I can't think of a single thing, so instead I plan.
I fall asleep without tears coursing down my face. I am smiling when I wake up.
Later, I start coughing. By the end of the day, I am under full sick alert, and after gathering whatever is left of the supplies, I tell Inuyasha I'll be back in a week.
He argues, but I leave anyway.
As soon as I'm on the other side, I get to work.
I know exactly when he will come, and I am ready. My bag is packed, waiting in the closet.
My window is closed, but the curtains are not, so he can see me lying on the bed under a thin blanket, face turned towards the window.
My hair has red undertones in it now, setting of a healthy glow in my skin. I dabbed red lipstick on my lips, just barely. My eyelashes are longer, coated in black mascara. I stretch sleepily under the blanket, and seconds later, he knocks on the window.
I pretend to wake sleepily, and gracefully roll out of bed, unlocking the window and letting him jump inside.
He stares at me in surprise. I pretend not to notice his eyes as they trail over the new addition to my pj collection. A sheer pink and black spaghetti strapped dress that end just below my rear, with a black lace thong beneath it. It barely contains my chest, and with every exhale, his eyes jump back to watch it.
"You are early." I point out sleepily. He doesn't reply. I sigh, pretending to be upset, even though I expected to leave today. "I'll get my things." I say, and drag the bag out of the closet. I can feel his eyes on me, as I do this. I grab some clothes from a hanger in the closet and shut the bathroom door quietly. Quickly, I strip of the skimpy sheer dress, drop it in the laundry basket, and pull the low rise, skin tight jeans over the black thong. I know you can see it every time I bend forward even a little bit. I hook the corset styled bra, and slip an extremely small shirt over my shoulders. Earlier, I cut of 3 inches from the bottom, just enough to show toned, perfect skin between the top of my jeans and the bottom of the shirt, and cut a V in the shirt, to guarantee a perfect view of my breasts.
I say nothing when I come out. He has my bag in his claws, and he is watching me strangely, like he's just discovered that I'm female, for the first time in the past four years.
I expected this, and inside me, the bad girl smirks.
I may not be Kikyou, but I am a full blooded female, and I was damn well gonna use that for all it was worth.
Score for being alive.
Despite all this, I do not hope that this will make him love me.
In fact, for his sake, he should not love me any more then he loves any demon he comes across that tries to chop him in half. I am no longer a good investment in his health.
I will be his poison.
Or so the bad girl tells me. I believe her, because there is no one else to say she is wrong.
Miroku loves the make over. Inuyasha growls constantly, as though he can read the monks thoughts before they even take form.
I pretend to notice nothing.
I am sure he still sees her, though he does not seem completely satisfied.
I change nothing. I smile and play my part, the damsel in distress. I scream as monsters drag me off to lairs, I hug and sob and cling when he rescues me.
He holds me tighter in his arms, tells me no one will ever hurt me, and I squelch the part of me that wants to tell him it's too late for that.
Soon, he finds excuses to be near me, hold me, touch me.
I am oblivious, because I am a good girl who smiles and suspects nothing.
There are many forms of love.
There are more forms of hate.
Love and hate are the strongest emotions, and they are parts in all other emotions.
Some days I still think I am capable of love. But most days I smile and wait for the girl who's taken residence inside me to find the next step.
Most days, there is only hate.
It feels nice, because you fell nothing at all.
She feels it. The change.
She tries desperately to stop it, but it's too late. It's like diving out of the plane two seconds before you realize you don't have a parachute.
He has to choose, and while before he would've chosen her, a decision as easy as breathing, now he hesitates, his arms wrapped around my waist while she watches.
I think she knows, but she will not say the words that will condemn me, because I can say them back.
We are playing the same game. And while she has bound his soul with a promise, I have bound the rest of him with everything else.
Neither can have him whole without tearing him apart.
He stops seeing her.
I find it funny, that now that I barely want anything from him, he is all mine.
He is still the same, rash, rude, wild. I expected to feel something now, maybe forgiveness, to come crawling back through my pores like a bad habit.
But I feel nothing at all, only the emptiness I carry with me, always.
So I go on.
I wait for the sign, which one I do not know.
So I watch the sky, the birds, the trees, waiting for a moment that will end all this.
Sometimes I think of what could've been different.
But all the while I know I can't change how things are now. I can't go back to being the girl who tries to save the world.
Sometimes I wonder if there's anything left worth saving.
I do not feel alive today.
Heartless, cold. But there is still a pulse under my skin, and that alone feels like a surprise.
I need air, to breathe. I am so used to feeling nothing, that sometimes I forget I am still here at all.
I go to take a bath in the springs.
He follows and watches from the trees. It is easier then I thought it would be to manipulate him, though now, I have no space, no time, to be away from him.
I may have started an obsession.
I am loosing my thoughts.
Everything is overpowered by fake smiles.
I am not queen of hearts.
For the very first time, I feel like she would. Hollow. Dead. Fake.
Though my skin is warm, and blood runs through me, I have no more guarantees that I still remain.
I decide it is time.
I am not queen of hearts.
Only the broken ones.
After I take my bath, I slip on the rocks, right on the shore.
He catches me before I fall, like I knew he would.
He says nothing, just presses his lips to mine, finally, desperately.
I let my eyes fall closed, feel him next to me.
He pulls of his clothes, dropping them to the ground, and lays me carefully on top.
I feel like a porcelain doll, something he's afraid to break.
Also, because I don't think they feel much at all.
I don't feel much at all either.
His hands trace, trail, search. His mouth burns my skin with its intensity, and not once do I open my eyes.
Once he is inside, he struggles, pushes, harder and deeper into me.
This wasn't how it should've been, but life is a funny thing that way.
He clings to me afterwards, panting and clutching me to himself like I will float away.
I open my eyes, finally, and let him see just a glimpse of what resides behind the fake smiles, what I couldn't push back enough to open my eyes before.
I think it scares him.
It's not hard to convince him to leave me with Kouga for safe keeping while he takes the rest of the group to fight the demons.
And Kouga does not need much prompting.
As soon as we are alone, his arms wind around me and he smiles his wolfish grin. I realize I am dreading this much less then what happened with Inuyasha.
There is still something about him that makes me want to scream and cry and jump up and down in frustration that no one else can copy.
I can only thank God for that. Not that I imagine he's too happy with me at this very moment.
Inuyasha barges in right after it's over, and I raise the blanket higher, covering my skin from his angry eyes.
"What the hell are you doing?" he yells, which is typical and doesn't surprise me.
I do not smile, or apologize, or make excuses, because I do not need the façade anymore. This, right now, is what its all about.
"I think the right question is 'Who are you doing?' and the answer to that is pretty obvious." My eyes slide towards Kouga, who is grinning happily behind me, running his hand up and down my side. "Now get out Inuyasha, so I can put my clothes on."
"You stupid-." He starts.
"Get. Out. Inuyasha." I repeat slowly. I have no intention of making this easy for anyone. I do not feel bad, at all, when I see the despair in his eyes.
He doesn't like the change, but I love the power.
He yells all the way to the clearing while I ignore him. When he asks what I'm thinking, I tell him Kouga, just to get him riled up all over again.
In detail, I start to describe Kouga's body, descriptions I picked up from reading books in the R rated section of the library.
Inuyasha doesn't like that much either and storms off, disregarding any previous concerns he had about my safety, about my being a helpless little girl and all that.
In my head I wonder if I have a shirt low enough that'll convince Sesshoumaru to do me, since that should really get Inuyasha to crack.
When I walk through the clearing, everyone is staring at me. I shrug, heading for my bag.
"You slept with Kouga?" Miroku asks in confusion. For the first time I remember Miroku is also a guy, but I don't want to ruin whatever he might be trying to do with Sango.
"Yup." I answer shortly. I pull out two pills and a water bottle, swallowing both pills in one go. Getting pregnant is not in the plans.
"Why?" Sango asks.
"Why not?" I answer philosophically.
"Because she's a stupid slut that's why!" Inuyasha yells.
"Go fuck yourself Inuyasha." I tell him nicely.
"Why do that? I have you don't I? You seem to wanna do everyone in the 2 mile radius." He snarls back.
"Oh Inuyasha." I laugh. "You are so naïve. Here's the thing. You? You're never touching me again. That first time was bad enough. I expected better, but then again, screwing a clay pot probably isn't good practice, huh?"
He bristles. "You're never touching Kouga again." He warns.
"Or what Inuyasha?" I ask, arching a mocking brow. "You don't own me. You have no claim on me. I am not your wife. I am a single woman, and if I decided to screw Kouga again, you sure as hell aren't gonna be a deciding factor in that. And if I feel like screwing your brother, then so help me God I'll do him too."
I pulled a chocolate bar out of the bag, broke a piece off and popped it into my mouth. He charged towards me, probably to drag me off by my hair and teach me how women are supposed to behave.
Except he walked right into my shield. It fizzled, slamming him back. He shook his head, glared up at me from the floor.
"Careful Inuyasha. If you mess with fire, sooner or later, you're gonna get burned." I dropped the unfinished chocolate back in the bag.
"Why are you doing this?" He was still on the floor, staring at the ground instead of me.
"Just to prove you're not the only one who can play games." I glanced back before picking up my bag. "And to figure out if people always want what they can't have. They do, by the way."
Something new I'm trying, I know Kagome seems like a bitch here, but I kind of like her character like this. Too many people make her over into a goody-goody and it just bugs me. Anyways, tell me what you think.
P.S.: I have no idea who Kagome will end up with. Maybe she'll come back to him after all. XD