I do not own Inuyasha
His hands, to others, they are the hands of the destroyer, the touch of death and despair, the long, slim, pale fingers and sharp claws that shows lives no mercy. The hands that make people, humans demons alike, screams begging for their lives. The clean looking hands that never have a spot of dust are the very same hands that have been covered with more blood than any others'; of hundreds, maybe thousands of unlucky victims. They are his hands. The hands of the "killing perfection"
Sesshomaru.
Yet to her, his hands are the hands of life. The hands of warmth and protection. The big, long, slim fingers and sharp claws that have the touch of soft clouds that wraps around the earth. They give her pleasures like no others could ever give. The warm feelings in her chest, the butterflies in her stomach, the excitement that run down her spine, the hands that makes the sky blue, flowers blooms and the warmth of the morning sun. Just one light touch of his hands on the little girl's head and it would make her day one of the best.
To her, his hands are the world.
A/N: First of all, i apologize for any grammar mistakes. i did try my best to fix it.
I might delete this story later depending on your reaction since it is pretty random.
I don't know why but I have been obsessed with writing about his hands for the past two days. I can't even write about it until now. I have hit writer's block, so for those who are waiting for my other stories to be update, I would like to apologize because it will take a while, (I don't know when,). I have been trying, believe me I really did, but I can't seems to write anything. So wish me luck. Thanks for the read.