"I think it's broken." Marluxia's voice all but whispered.
Vexen jumped to a height that he would never admit to in polite company later. He rounded on the other man to find him close, far too close. Several questions may have assaulted his mind had the panic not set in so quickly; concerns like 'how did he infiltrate my labs without detection?' or 'how did he sneak up on me without my even noticing?' flew into oblivion when he unceremoniously back up into his own lab table and only managed to snap one, angry, broken word in response, "What?"
It seemed to encompass his confusion, but Marluxia had no intention of answering to anyone it seemed. "Your wrist." He observed in a soft, careful monotone. His hand shot forward, impossibly fast to grab the limb in question and while all of Vexen's senses had not quite returned to him, enough had to stifle a yelp of pain into an angry grimace.
"Perhaps your arm." The Graceful Assassin continued relentlessly, twisting the arm gracefully, his grip tightening around the limb as Vexen's hand tightened on the edge of the table behind him. It had happened so quickly, so thoughtlessly that he hardly had time to catch his breath. The pain triggered the immediate response of of an attack. He felt ice forming on his fingertips and in seconds he felt crystalline claws forming, but they were as frail as his current mental state.
Marluxia knew it. He sensed it like the spring senses the waning of winter. That calm smile proved him right, and that smugness made Vexen want to scream far more than the pain.
"And definitely a few ribs." Marluxia grabbed the right side of his torso with a particularly spirited viciousness that left the academic breathless. Vexen's mind went blissfully blank as the ice crumbled from his grasp, pain shooting through the majority of his torso now, distracting him from the agony in his twisted arm and all he could bring himself to comprehend was how very overpowering that scent was. It was cloying, that flowering odor of lilac and lilies all wrapped up in something that he might have classified as sakura blossoms if he knew even half of it.
Vexen hadn't noticed but his body had given way, his free hand clawing at the surface to bring him back to functionality, but in one horrifyingly fluid, beautiful motion Marluxia slammed him down on the table's cold, metal surface with seemingly zero effort whatsoever. His dazed head now smarting along with the abused muscles of his back, he felt a soft weight on his chest, and a feather soft ghosting of hair across his cheek. Before he could even try to manage words past his winded state, a whisper in his ear silenced him.
"I know that you failed the Superior. I know he was not pleased, and apparently neither was his lap dog." Marluxia's voice was so impossibly smooth, so horrifyingly monotone. "You cannot avoid me for much longer, I know exactly what you want. Your days are numbered." He paused, as if allowing him time to digest. "Side with me."
Vexen took a shaky breath and tried not to comprehend how warm his companion felt as the adrenaline masked the pain. He tried not to see the contented look in those crystalline eyes, the smug smile on those impossibly full lips as he pulled away, lingering for a fraction of a moment to observe.
"That look suits you, Number IV." He twisted a strand of cornsilk hair between soft fingertips. "Panting, beneath me. You should stay down there." And before he could even begin to comprehend that pandora's box, Marluxia withdrew and all but dissolved into the darkness surrounding him, Graceful Assassin that he truly proved himself to be.
Vexen lay on the lab table for longer than he'd realized when he finally was able to push himself upright once again with one clawing hand and only half a functional mind full of confused, horrified and exhausted thoughts. One suggestion bubbled to the surface above all the others like a horribly timed joke.
He really needed to invest some time developing in a good weed killer.
Vexen laughed dryly and then passed out.