A/N: Blame boredom…and the anime… blame that too, for putting thoughts in my brain…
I don't own Akuma no Riddle.
Washing Away Crimson
It was metallic, distinct. Sticky, red, and full of the vibrancy of life, or signaling the lack of it. She was a killer, she knew what it would be like, what it meant to rend her victims with every strike of her blades. Cutting into nothingness, was all that she knew. Yet, before this class, she had never taken the breath away from another person. It was all theory, applied logics, and failed apologies. Lessons with no true answers were her only lullaby.
She was merely an assassin without a cause.
The heated spray of the shower fell over her, coloring the floor pink with the remains of her battle as it drained away. Weary, she sighed, leaning into the off-white tiles that felt chilly against her back. She stood there, her breath echoing, her eyes piercing like the very daggers she carried, and for what…
Or rather…for who?
She licked her lips, the taste of blood still on them…of sweat, of trials and error. The beseechingly empty, and bitter sweet success, left a nothingness in its wake. A pyrrhic victory. Little more, and little less. She could be okay with that.
Her eyes cut to her roommate, feeling the sense of hunger deep within herself, a confusion she could not yet explain tingled in her gut. She wondered what this odd sensation was, and yet, she knew there was no answer of which to be found. Instead, she swallowed hard, forcing back the clenching in her gut, whenever she saw those beautifully protected scars. She wanted to run her fingers across them, awed by the mystery of what drew her in. The girl slept so innocently, almost giftwrapped in her blankets.
Tokaku turned off the water, her dripping wet, naked body crossing the threshold of the bathroom with all of the grace expected of a predator. She loomed over this girl…this Haru…and her temptation, curious like a cat, got the better of her.
One perfectly manicured nail, sharp and steady, ran across one of the sensitive scars, waking the sleeping girl with a jump, frightened for only a moment.
"Tokaku!" She admonished, both relieved and slightly amused. "What are you doing?" Haru's unassuming eyes gazed into the blue eyed killer with little more than trust. Completely and totally defenseless, at ease, with the softest, and most gentle smile the assassin had ever seen.
The deadly woman was silent, the water dripping from her hair, and onto the sheets as her finger trailed that very enticing line again. Her ears picked up a pleasant sound, a giggle turned into something more...something undefinable. Tokaku had never heard such a melodic sound before. "Scars." She murmured, a scowl forming glints that spoke of fixations best left unanswered…unspoken between them, and untold to others. "Too many."
She leaned down, her lips trailing that line where stiches once held together flesh. Confused, cold, and wet from her shower, she could do no more than slide under the covers, wishing to taste something else…something other than the crimson that so engulfed her world. Why she wished to taste the milky white flesh of the woman below her continued to be a mystery, but the kisses she lavished upon the woman's skin required no answer.