Disclaimer: this is just for fun, i don't own anything at all! © to obata & oba

A/N: the formatting was intended. if you read, you'll understand (or so i hope oO)
yeah, and the title is weird. kinda doesn't match, but i like that... like always, english is not my first language, so beware of possible grammar and other mistakes. Otherwise, I hope you don't regret investing your time in reading this.

and again, a special thanks to all the people that read and reviewed my other stuff! hugs

afterglow

His hands were everywhere. On her neck, stroking, on her breast, just brushing lightly, on her thighs, gripping. She couldn't concentrate, couldn't quite grasp what was happening because he was everywhere, all over her and she just took in all the sensations he offered, seemingly for free. Her well-manicured, black-painted nails dug into his rich hair, and it was as though it got lost there, the softness and firmness sucking her in, like see-dung in the deep of an ocean. Lips, dry and wet, his or hers, meeting and parting, like the change of light and darkness that went on forever. Nuzzling just underneath his ear, she held on, trying to see past the fuzziness that had overtaken her view, past the shapes and colours and gods, the touches. His hands. Cool and smooth and just a tiny bit coarse. She never wanted them to stop. The hitched breaths, the gasps, was it his or hers, sweet nothings from mouth to ear. Sweet, from mouth to mouth. Their tongues, dancing like two rivers, fighting, then flowing seamlessly together. It made her whimper and he didn't seem to care about her puffy cheeks and red-kissed lips. Because he was going further down and her impatiens made her push him, farther, until she got him were she wanted him or he wanted her. It didn't matter, because the feeling was all that counted and she didn't care about the shapes or the light, that was actually non-existent and cold fingers, cupping her, caressing, so lovingly. They connected like it was the most natural thing, like people tend to connect sometimes, because it was natural, and she held him even tighter and he hissed her name, or was it his, and she then knew what he was all about and she was sure she could define him in one word if she just concentrated enough. They were almost one and she couldn't imagine how it would feel not to be. She, soft and yearning, he, rough and lust driven. What a cliché, but they matched so perfectly, still, and she swore to herself as he guided her to that one moment that would decide everything, that she would never let him go. Their gasps were a single melody now, crooked and out of key but they matched and there was only so little left, almost there, lips crying out, a name, his, hers and-

Her eyelids snapped open, the dark and stillness of the room greeting her, almost mockingly and she needed a few minutes to comprehend that despite the sticky feeling underneath her sheets, tears were streaming down her cheeks, falling soundlessly on her silken pillow. She couldn't believe what her lips had spoken, magical syllables that had woken her up like the kiss the sleeping beauty. She shifted, hands clutching the rim of her blanket, feeling her bangs sticking to her damp forehead. It was just a dream, a dream…

She went still and listened: a steady breathing rhythm. Perfect. So unperturbed by her nightly outburst. Like always.

She turned her head to her left. Raito lay there, the streak of madness tainting his features even in deep slumber. But he looked peaceful. In his own way. How could she…

Misa closed her eyes again and couldn't suppress it, this time whispering it instead of crying it into the night, almost guiltily, as if to sate a wandering spirit.

"Ryuuzaki…"