In The Naiivety of a Child
Heart beating fast.
Breath hitches.
Swallow quietly—quickly; maybe he won't hear you.
Oh, but he does.
As does his mocking laughter.
Body tenses.
Fists clench; ignore the beads of sweat that drop to the floor.
Silently… or so it seems.
Swallowed by the darkness.
And it edges him on.
Don't you dare make a move.
Amber eyes flick rapidly—left to right.
But do you see him?
No. Of course not.
Maybe he's gone.
Oh, but that's just what he wants you to think, my dear…
Don't even think for a second that that's the case.
Because things just aren't that simple, lovely.
He just wants you to think they are.
Remember—
He is the darkness.
Chilling laughter at the nape of your neck.
He wouldn't leave you alone.
No.
He never will.
A gasp escapes those lips of yours.
Is it surprise, or is it fear?
Or… is it something more..?
Do you even know, my dear?
You flash your gaze behind you now, gripping the handle of a sword within your sweaty little palms.
"Trembling now, are we?"
Don't even take the time to blink.
Whirl around to the front.
And he was there in front of you the entire time, was he not?
That disturbing laughter clarifies it.
But that deep-throated laugh doesn't turn you away, does it?
No.
It makes you want to chase after him, doesn't it?
"Run, run, my dear."
But you will fall on your scarred little face.
And who will be there to pick you up?
He will.
He and his shaded eyes.
That sickening coat of purple.
Cold, deathly skin.
Those golden eyes that seem to grasp onto every inch of your soul.
Your entire being.
And you will begin to think of him as a God.
Oh the naivety of a child.
Those very hands grasp onto your chin with mocking gentleness.
Those vile, sinful hands.
Hands of a God.
Any idea of how many souls those hands have saved?
The dead will answer that, dear girl.
Dead men tell no tales.
Oh, but serpents do.
"How amusing."
And you will continue to fall for those pretty little lies—the forked tongue of a snake.
A serpent.
A God.
"You and your dreams, my dear."
A chuckle follows, and your eyes will gaze up in the utmost innocence a child.
In awe of the beauty—that deathly beauty.
Those sinful eyes possessing your gaze, your mind, your entire body.
Worshipping him.
Always.
It's happening again.
Those sinful lips of death inches away.
And though you can't see him, you can feel him.
Soft, hot breath escaping that god-awful smirk of his.
Those gleaming golden eyes—gaze of a serpent—upon its prey.
That death grip, fingers holding you tightly in his grasp.
His grasp.
His.
"Tell me, my dear. What is it you desire..?"
Power will be our answer… and you will gasp it out in all the raggedness of half-lidded amber eyes, body already trembling and shivering with sweat.
And something more than that.
That smirk will stretch across that perfect, unmarred face of his.
And do remember: pretty words aren't always true, my dear.
"Such a wonderful feeling to have, don't you agree..?"
You will nod against his grasp, that sinful tongue already lapping amongst your throat.
Spreading fire against that mark of yours.
The mark he gave you.
The one that made you his.
Those lips will curl.
Oh how pleased he is with you, my pet.
But that pleasure will soon die.
Doesn't it always, you pretty little thing?
Oh yes, you know it well.
But, in the naivety of a child, you will fall for it
Every.
Single.
Time.
"I can give you that feeling…"
Can he?
Of course he can, he whispers in those hopeful little ears of yours.
Only Orochimaru-sama can make things that simple.
Don't you want that feeling?
Believe in the feeling, dear child.
Run, run after it.
For surely, you will taste it.
Taste it in all that delicious sinfulness you know is so wrong.
But you want it anyways.
That deep-throated laughter in front of you once more.
Inches, just inches away.
If only you will submit to him.
"You want the world, don't you, dear child..?"
Oh gods, how you want it.
Your breath hitches once more.
You swallow, unable to speak and you nod hurriedly.
The eagerness of you and your sugar-coated dreams.
He smiles in content.
What a perfect little pet you are.
"Then the world you shall have…"
His voice is a whisper now, and he sprinkles it with false love—the forked tongue of a serpent against your own purity.
Ruined innocence.
And, oh dear girl, you've fallen again.
a/n: ohhh my… T.T
i cannot believe i just wrote that.
….anyhows, please review, as it took me a great amount of thought & determination to write this. :P
arigatou