Almost finished with P4G o-e Izanami… Oh, the feels. –ahem- So! I'm pairing my two favourite female characters (Margaret's the third) in a poetic, steamy explosion of awesome. Or, at least, I'm hoping it turns out that way. Haha. Tried something a little different in terms of style of writing and POV. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do I own Persona, the Persona series, or the amazingly fleshed out characters portrayed here on in.

-Poetry Feelings-

How do you do it?

From that first moment, caught in dark eyes…

I don't understand this feeling.

I don't remember much—okay, anything—from my past, but Yu says that I can make new memories. He stays by my side and he's a really great guy (even though the jerkface keeps reading my stuff), but—

I find that my mind keeps storing memories of someone else entirely.

I remember… The first time you ever looked at me with those intelligent azure eyes. Eyes like the ocean—endless, powerful, blue. I remember Yu's enthusiasm and the way you smiled privately, those eyes eating me up as you offered your hand.

I remember… The spark that travelled from our touching palms up my arm and to my heart, forcing it to beat in time with yours. I remember the way you tilted your head, quizzical, but that small, enigmatic smile never faded.

I remember… Returning to the Velvet Room with him later that night and bombarding him with questions—who was she? How do you know her?—and receiving a startled stare and stammered responses. He seemed just as confused as I felt by my sudden interest in something that didn't have to do with regaining my lost memories. Go figure.

But more importantly, I asked, "When can I see her again?"

My mind wanders. Soars on snowy white wings. Broad. Strong.

It is free to do as it pleases without limitation.

My mind is on some great quest, bound for inconceivable heights.

And yet it chooses to turn to thoughts of you.

I think the next time I saw you was outside of that place where they serve fsteak. You didn't notice me, but that's okay.

I… Didn't know what to say to you.

You were talking to the old man about something as the two of you walked along the street and he seemed to be completely enraptured by the smooth sound of your voice. I could tell he was lost, though, by the dumb look on his dumb face.

Stupidviolentjerk… I remember this tight feeling in my chest because I wanted to be the one you devoted your attention to. I wanted those endless ocean eyes on me and no one else.

…

I'm the stupid one.

Pure, quiet crimson

Loyal, anxious emerald

Blue?

Beautiful.

You… Are blue.

The others don't make me feel like this. I've met them all—Red, Green, and that loud girl that's always throwing herself at Yu—but they don't make me feel the same way you do. I'm never at a loss for words when I see their smiling faces, nor am I struck dumb by the weight of their gazes.

Only you.

…

I can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Roar!

But you can't hear me.

You wouldn't understand my wordless cry, anyway.

Pieces of me fly free with every roar!—pieces of me that are looking for a place to call home.

Why can't you hear me…?

I wish you could.

"Marie-san—Hello. What are you doing?" I flinch, instinctively covering up the journal I had been scribbling in and you…

It's you.

I thought I had been alone on the hill overlooking Inaba, but it turns out I was wrong. What are you doing here?

You arch an eyebrow—an elegant, questioning motion—and I feel my cheeks heat. Normally, this is the part where I blow up, but I find that I can't.

It's you.

"Nothing..."

Your curiosity is piqued and I know immediately that you'll get your way in the end. The knowledge doesn't stop me from clutching my words protectively to my chest, however. You must be able to read the unease in my gaze, because you say gently, soothingly, "May I see?"

Of course you can. It's you.

Falling isn't so bad. It's easy.

I fall… You fall… Let's fall together!

We can make a game of it.

You're silent for so long that I begin to fidget anxiously, caught somewhere between wanting to know what's on that brilliant mind of yours and wanting to flee from this town forever.

Instead, I wait dumbly, silently begging you to speak.

Anything. Say anything.

When at last you look up from the feelings I have poured onto page after page, your eyes are strangely shiny. That blue is stained a shade darker by… Something I cannot identify. If I were to guess, though, I would say it was reverence—but why? For what reason would you look at me like that?

As if you can hear my thoughts, you reach out, cup my cheek, and smile. It's not just any smile. Oh no. This smile…

I feel my heart skip a beat.

When you lean in—so close that I can make out each individual eyelash—and pause, lips mere centimeters from my own and a question in dark eyes, I screw up all of my courage, then lean in the rest of the way to touch soft pink lips to my own.

I can feel you smile and you linger for a moment before straightening. "Please, come home with me," you murmur at last. "I insist."

Falling… Falling… Falling.

Still falling.

I'm falling into you.

My heart beats fast because I know the impact will hurt.

My heart beats faster because I know only you can make the hurt go away.

Your home—your palace—is lovely. I'm in awe of the grandeur around me—the tidiness and overall you-ness of the simple, elegant décor.

And then I am taken upstairs, to your room.

I'm blushing again and you laugh quietly, giving me that new, meaningful smile. It makes me blush that much hotter.

I can't help but bite my lip and avert my gaze when you croon, "Marie-san…"

Is it weird that I adore the way your lips, tongue, and teeth work together to form the sounds necessary to make up my name? Such a simple name and yet…

When you say it, I feel as though it means so much more.

I loop my arms around your neck, lose myself in the blue of your twin oceans. There's a storm brewing.

"May I see?" you ask again, long fingers tugging at the tie around my neck. The first button on my top comes undone and I know exactly what is on your mind—knew all along, but couldn't believe it until this very moment.

I nod, unable to find my voice again, and I'm rewarded with the gentle press of soft lips against my temple. "Shall we take this to the bed?"

Roar!

Can you hear me?

I'll tell you everything you need to know—just listen.

I am stripped bare and you're not very far behind me, your short blue hair tickling my nose as our tongues dance eagerly. Fsteak can't hold a candle to your unique flavor and I honestly think I could go on kissing you forever.

You have other things in mind, however, and you break away, chuckling when a disappointed sound leaves me before I can help it. "Patience, Marie-san."

Why do you have so much power over me? It doesn't make sense.

"I don't want to be patient," I insist. It occurs to me that you can see every bit of me and I gasp, pressing my thighs together and crossing my arms over my chest. Even as I do so, my eyes are drawn to the incredible sight of your breasts cradled lovingly by the simple white cups of your bra.

Who could have guessed you were so well endowed under all those stuffy dress shirts?

Before my mind can register my hand's intent, I'm reaching out and touching you—pale, perfect you—and you shiver, a sharp breath causing you to fill my palm. I give the rosy nub an experimental tweak and a low, incredible sound escapes you.

I want to hear more.

The tables are turned and, soon, I have you as naked as I am. We are on equal ground. But that's a lie; your form is so much lovelier than mine—beauty beyond words.

I nuzzle the curve of your throat, nip gently at the porcelain perfection there, and you tilt your head in silent askance for more. A faint, flowery scent hits my nose and I can't help but smile. Somehow, despite your too-serious, androgynous appearance, you're surprisingly feminine—albeit in subtle ways that are easy to miss if one isn't observing carefully. When my hands stray too far south, you tug me upwards, claiming my lips once again and reducing my brain to mush with your skilled tongue.

Is there anything you can't do?

Heat pools between my thighs and my core is molten, throbbing. You slide your thigh up between mine and your eyes go wide as you register just how much of a mess I've made.

How much of a mess you've made me.

"No sense in making you wait any longer," you husk, easily switching our positions so that I am the one on my back and you are lording over me.

I like that.

Your lips brush against my collarbone, leaving a trail of burning sparks—I wasn't aware that electricity and flame could mix in such a stimulating way—in their wake as you kiss your way down my body. I can't help but whine, my hips bucking of their own volition as I feel a rush of wet heat in response to your gentle actions.

You look up at me and my breath catches in my throat—how is it possible for the ocean to contain such raw want? I can feel it like a physical touch and I moan, my thighs parting invitingly.

There's no time to be embarrassed because your fingers are slipping sweetly between my legs, spreading the wetness you find, using it to-to…!

Can you hear me…?

I buck, back arching at that first shallow thrust and, though I can feel some resistance, I encourage you to go deeper with throaty moans and ecstatic sighs. You oblige me for the time, steadily pumping, stretching me—until my core aches for more. Deeper.

You hesitate and the storm calms momentarily. "You… Have you done this before?

'Huh?' "N-no. Never."

"Could it be that you were born without one?" you mutter, more to yourself than anything.

Guess that's yet another weird quirk of mine.

Still, I can tell you're a little put out by your discovery and that makes me feel stupid awful. "I, um… Sorry." I use that word so infrequently that it feels weird coming out of my mouth. "I don't know what's wrong with me—"

You chuckle and I fall silent. What's so funny? When your mirth dies down a bit—though there's still some glinting in dark blue orbs—you say, "You are incredibly cute, Marie-san."

Me… Cute? I start to shake my head, but you silence me with a look.

"I speak only the truth. Please, have faith in me."

There is such tender sincerity in your tone that I feel tears prick my eyes. What the hell is wrong with me? My smile is weak, but there is genuine happiness behind it. "T-thank you…"

You lean in, kiss me. "Relax. Allow me to take care of you."

I do just that, biting down on my bottom lip at the indescribable sensation of being filled to the brim as you thrust into me. Deep. Your talented digits seem to know every hidden sweet spot that makes me lose my mind and, eventually, you have me riding your hand, my mind a haze of profanities and torturous bliss.

… You can hear me—I'm sure of it.

I'm screaming for you.

I had never thought such pleasure to even be possible and I've never been happier to be proven wrong. Your cheeks are red and your eyes heavy-lidded—the tantalizing sight makes me clench and absolutely gush wetness.

My world is flying to pieces and I can only clutch at the plush purple bedspread beneath me, futilely attempting to ground myself against the tidal wave of ecstasy that threatens to sweep me up in its impossibly strong current. My walls clench desperately, each flex of silken muscle sending white hot lightning bolts of pleasure zipping from synapse to synapse. As the building swell rears up to crash down on me, I dig my nails into your back, toes curling, spine arching.

I think I actually scream—a wordless, wanton sound—and, just like that, everything goes hazy.

…

"M-Marie-san? Have I harmed you?"

I stir, the satisfied ache between my thighs causing me to smile widely. I must look like a crazy person because you stare. "I'm fine," I assure you, my fuzzy mind finally resuming some of its normal activity. "Really."

I don't realize how concerned you are until I witnessed the way your shoulders sag with the sigh that leaves you. "Thank goodness. I—mmph!"

My fingers are in your hair and my tongue in your mouth, but I hardly think you mind as you kiss back, soft, pleased sounds escaping the tangled twist of warm, wet muscle. I waste no time cupping and kneading one of those exquisite mounds with my free hand and soon I can't resist leaving your lips to taste a rosy peak that is standing at attention with your arousal.

You release the cutest little sound—as though I've surprised you—and your head falls back, your thighs parting as though in invitation.

I would be a total idiot to turn down such a request; I move on instinct, slipping a hand between your legs and my fingers into tight wet heat.

Actually, "wet" is a gross understatement at this point. You're so slick with your own juices that my fingers slide right in, plumbing the depths of—

Your hand catches my wrist and I look up, righteous fury burning in my gaze. I quiet when I register the seriousness of your expression. Then, you clear your throat and fidget a bit—the first sign of nervousness I've ever witnessed breaking through your poised calm. "This is my first time…"

"You could have fooled me!" I blurt, my feminine walls throbbing as if in agreement.

A chuckle. "You flatter me. Nonetheless, my hymen is still intact, s-so there will be some discomfort on my part."

At that, I balk. No part of me wants to harm you. Ever.

"I trust you completely, Marie-chan," you assure me, smiling warmly. The change in honorifics isn't lost upon me and it's strangely pleasing. "Just be gentle with me."

Gentle? I can do gentle.

When you release my wrist, I press into velvet heat until something blocks my path and you wince slightly, smiling reassuringly when I hesitate. "Please…" You look away, suddenly unable to meet my gaze as your cheeks flush a pretty pink. "Take me."

And I'm the cute one?!

I nod and lean in to claim your lips, swallowing the hiss of pain you release as I thrust my fingers as far as they will go and the subsequent moans of pleasure as your body adjusts; I'm impossibly deep, your womanhood pulsating wonderfully around the intruder. I nip at your bottom lip before pressing a trail of kisses along your jawline, moving to whisper into your ear, "More?"

You shudder and nod, dark eyes unfocused, and I add a third finger, simultaneously speeding up my pace. I spread my fingers slightly, attempting to loosen the vice-like hold you have on me and you actually squeal, your knuckles going white as you clutch at the sheets. Your eyes roll back in your head when I repeat the action and a thrill goes through me at the hoarse, throaty cry.

The sounds you make are like a siren's call, wiping my senses clean and ensnaring me—a slave to your desires.

My thrusts become more vigorous, deeper, and you lose it, shouting my name as your muscles spasm and, from the feel of it, I'm not too bad at this. I raise a thumb to the tiny button nestled at the top of your feminine lips and gasp a moment later as you swear, burying your fingers in my hair and kissing me with such ardor that our teeth click together and I can faintly taste copper.

I love every moment of it.

I don't know how to describe these feelings.

I can't find the words.

No matter how hard a look or how determined I am to find an answer—

It's impossible.

You take them from me, leave me mute.

…

I'll show you instead.

Eventually, you calm. I wrap my arms around your slim waist and press a simple, sweet kiss to your lips. Our skin is sticky to the touch with a combination of sweat and arousal, but there will be time to deal with that later.

"What have I done to deserve that?" you murmur when I pull away, your expression slightly awed. There's a small smile quirking the edges of your lips and it thrills me to know that I'm the reason for that expression.

"You're just you," I respond truthfully.

You laugh and ruffle my hair. Anyone else would have received a death glare, but I pout instead, knowing full well that I would allow you to do basically anything you wanted.

"I, um… Really like you." You bury your face in my throat, but I catch the quiet words nonetheless.

I'm glad you're hiding your face because my cheeks go hot and I grin like an idiot before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I like you, too. A lot."

I've never said that to anyone before, I think. I had never done any of this before—none of the kissing or cuddling, none of the, well, feelings.

Only for you, Naoto.

-Fin-