I do not own Loveless or any characters. Only Yun Kouga can do their beauty justice. This is my first story, so please enjoy.
Heavy, copious raindrops dissolved against the window. Distant thunder faintly rolled, a soothing pulse to the rain. Intermittent blazes of lightening shone into the room, silhouetting two figures sitting on the floor. A soft scent of black tea, sandalwood, and amber lingered, a familiar smell that did little to calm him; did little to mask the aura of fear.
He sat on his heels, his hands trembling minutely in his lap. Pale gold hair slipped from behind his ear, catching the glow from the small lamp in front of him. He kept his eyes down, hiding behind his glasses and hair while his mind battled his body. Instinct told him to get out; reality told him this was what he had been waiting for. Swallowing the edge of his fear, he raised his head, wearing the stoic face he had mastered out of necessity for all the lessons with his past teacher; lessons not of spells or defense, but of submission and obedience, pain and endurance.
The dark-haired boy across from him watched him idly as he also listened to the rain. He sat patiently, his hands folded atop his crossed legs and his arcane eyes fixed on the blond. He noticed the long fingers quivering, the eyes tightly shut, the strands of hair framing the lean face. Seimei decided he liked his fighter best this way, like the nervous anticipation before a storm. After all, Soubi belonged to him now.
Lightening flashed as slate eyes met charcoal ones. Their gazes locked through the thunder until Soubi's fell to his hands. With a slight smile, Seimei's gaze drifted over his Fighter's slim figure once more before he quietly shifted across the rug separating them.
A warm hand reached up, gently tucking the blond hair back in place then trailing lightly down the smooth jaw, fingers tracing the sharp chin. Soubi felt his coat being slipped from his shoulders and pulled away, cast aside. He remained still even as Seimei reached for his glasses, laying them with his coat. Despite the continuing rain beating on the window, time seemed to slow in front of Soubi, every brush of his master's fingers creeping along his skin. He would not shout, would not resist, would not fight back. His training had taught him to silently bear the pain he knew was coming.
His passive light eyes followed Seimei's hand moving to his pocket. A small silver piece extended from his hand. Even before the light caught its sharp edge, Soubi knew. Sable hair flipped to the side as Seimei raised his free hand, bringing his fingertips again under his fighter's chin. Slowly, he tilted up the impassive head, revealing Soubi's pale, smooth neck. He let his hand slide to the cheek, lightly cradling the beautiful face in front of him. Dark eyes glanced up to watch the blue ones flicker from resolute to anxious. As he quickly brought the razor to Soubi's skin, he decided he liked his fighter this way even more.
Warm blood streamed from the raw gashes, sanguine pools saturating Soubi's shirt and staining his master's hands. His own hands clenched his legs tighter until the knuckles were as pallid as his face. With his body screaming at him he fought to stay quiet, only his sharp gasps betraying his training. The smell of blood was overwhelming; the taste filled his mouth as he bit his already torn lip more. The room spun in front of him even after he closed his eyes. Seimei continued to slice and tear at the sore skin, methodically leaving his mark on his fighter. He stopped only when he finished the last letter. Leaning back, the sight in front of him was mesmerizing.
Still flowing from the open slashes, thick blood matted the long blond hair and coated his fighter's neck. He noticed the shaking fists and taut arms, the way he kept his head back and still. While he watched, Soubi began swaying. He sank to the floor noiselessly, his blood soaking the rug. Quickly fading, he watched Seimei pick up a towel and crouch over him, dabbing at the blood on his neck. Just as he slipped into unconsciousness, he heard the rain slow as Seimei's fingertips softly traced the painful letters crossing his neck, the proof of their bond-
Beloved.