A/N This is my first time writing Yami no Matsuei fanfiction, I apologize ahead of time for any grammar/spelling errors, but it was 12:40 in the morning when I wrote this ; I hope you like it, if you do, please review.
He was like coffee with cream, bitter with an almost sweet aftertaste. He was someone whom you had to acquire a taste for. He was also the refreshing rain after a sweltering day. He was sugar upon the tongue, dangerously addictive. Yes, without a doubt you had long since fallen for him. You needed him, more than you ever thought imaginable, as cliche as it sounded, it was true.
You loved his pale porcelain features, his butter soft hands. That sly smirk of his that sent playful shivers dancing up and down your spine. His almond eye watching your every move, observing you observing him. His moon kissed tresses held the luster of a thousand suns. You would love to run your hands through those attractive locks, if only you could. You thrived off of him, your heart, soul, and psyche depended upon this man, though your mind argued against it.
Thoughts clamored through the fog his very presence instilled upon your mind, each one screaming to be heard. Each one brought up painful memories, reasons for you to refuse the sweet promise of seduction that this man spoke of. Oh how you longed to throw logic to the wind and give in, give in to those alluring caresses. Amethyst eyes closed briefly, memories of those hands ghosting along your body, playing behind tired eyelids. These pleasantries soon replaced by bloodstained hands and pillars of Touda's fire feasting, consuming, twisting up, up, forever up. Destruction, death.
One would have thought that it would have ended there, but no, he came back. Whispers of temptation escaping promising lips. You nearly gave in, almost allowed yourself to be swept up by deft hands. Hands that, only hours later, struck the ground with a soft thud, pale, immobile, lifeless. Crimson life stained your hands, his life. The life of your tormentor, aggressor, enemy, ... beloved.
Eyes empty, devoid of their usual cunning, hands still, skin unusually pale, ice tinged lips slightly parted. You stared at his corpse, his shell, for what was to you an eternity. Lavender eyes filled with the sorrow of the broken hearted, lavender eyes closing, tears falling quietly. You turned around on your heel and left him like that, sprawled about on the ground. This was the price of logic.
Owari