Mine
(For context – please listen to and watch the music video for "Mine" by Beyoncé. Stunning.)
Between the two of them there were always walls. Some were stronger and more stubborn to tear down than others, and some were thin and brittle, shattering easily after a few pushes. As time passed, so did their walls crumble while simultaneously fortify.
It was a strange state to be in – constantly going back and forth.
But it was worth it.
Whenever another wall rose, they fought together to tear it down, piece by piece until they finally could see each other clear.
They did that because they knew no other way.
Separation wasn't an option.
xxx
They were different, this much she knew from day one. It was a truth embedded into her heart; rooted into her mind to such an extent she found it difficult to subdue that knowledge when he was near.
As soon as her senses registered him, she went into overdrive. His smell, his presence; all of it lingered heavily in the air, and she found it hard to breathe through her thirst.
She did not understand this feeling, this undeniable hunger that roared to life whenever he was in near vicinity. Longing she could understand – that she had done all her human years, constantly yearning from the other side of the Night Class gates – but hunger, raw, unadulterated hunger which burned in her belly and dried her throat – that she could not comprehend.
But he was so pliable, so gentle and caring.
He'd forgive her no matter what her error was, that was his nature.
When she finally found the courage to let her fangs sink into his skin, she found euphoria and satisfaction.
And it terrified her.
xxx
His past was something he rarely revisited, though it haunted him every waking minute. A detail he could vaguely remember was that as a child his eyes had been sensitive towards light, and so he'd grown fond of the dark.
Funny that now he should live in the same house as the sun itself.
She was warm, and radiant. Tender but persistent, softhearted but not to naïve to the world she now belonged to. Every night he spent with her she blazed in front of him so brilliantly he often found himself lost in the specs of cinnamon swirling in her eyes.
He was an inconsistent creature – prone to slight indecisiveness but always a victim to his contradicting nature. A man made of contrasts, he found it in no way odd that he was attracted to her light, while preferring to remain a shadow himself.
Ancient he was, and inexperienced indeed he was with handling these feelings and coping with sharing his life with her.
Threats jumped at him from every side, a knife blade in form of persistent nobles, a thunderstorm in form of a demanding Hunters Association; had he been a smart man he would run far, far away and bury himself beneath layers of dirt to rest for an eternity.
But the sun kept waiting for him, welcoming him home and beaming at him whenever he was near.
He was no good, by now his nature had shown itself to the point that he felt disgusted with the images and values that clashed and contrasted in his head – but he could not let her go no matter how hard he tried prying his persistent hands away from her.
All of this; all he ever was, all he would be; his decisions and his actions, hell even his taste in tea, added to the conclusion that he was a terrible man, desperately in love with a woman who shone brighter than any other he'd met.
xxx
Separation was never an option.
So why did she pack her bags that gloomy morning while everyone else was sleeping?
It was the feeling that had settled in her chest. That itch that would not be dulled, that yearning that would not quiet, which drove her out of the entrance to their mansion.
She could not understand that feeling.
Whenever she thought of it, her mouth burned like a house on fire, and she fumbled to save the words she needed to say.
Never did she make it in time, and all that was left was remnants of her scattered thoughts and incarcerated heart.
Separation bored a hole through her chest; deeper and deeper for each step she took away from him.
Resting in her temporary bed, in a far away land, she thought of the words that had burned in her mouth.
Their resurrection was swift and easy, and she breathed life into them with wide eyes as realization dawned.
All I'm really asking for is…
xxx
Above him the clouds gathered, their various shades of grey mixing and twirling across the sky.
He wondered briefly what would happen if the sky lost its warmth and light – the sun itself – when he realized that he knew exactly what would happen. Everything would decay; the earth would cave in on itself, rain would drizzle non-stop and in the midst of the despair, hearts would break like glass thrown against walls.
That's how he felt.
Broken. Shattered. Grey and dull like the skies above him.
In this house there were 58 paintings, a few hundred pieces of furniture, 358 articles of clothing, a dozen pair of shoes, books tethering on the edge of thousands, and no Yuuki.
Before Yuuki there had been 400 wineglasses in the mansion.
Now there were 254, lying in heaps of crushed crystal on the floor.
Like him, they were irreparable.
And like him, they scarred and hurt everything that touched them.
Her note was crumbled, read a few hundred times, and smeared with wine-stains and shed tears. No, he did not cry; the tears that blended with her narrow font were hers, and never before had he wanted to devour a letter like this, if only to feel her tears on his tongue.
"Kaname,
I'm lost.
I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what you are to me.
The way your blood hums in my body both thrills me and terrifies me. "
Those were her words, and in her words he sensed the same feelings he was battling himself.
Boundaries, limits; surrounding them were walls and between them they had both built and demolished walls throughout their time together. But something remained between them, something that was invisible to the naked eye but loud to his ears, roaring with its intensive yearning to be heard.
Another wineglass was hurled at the wall, shattering instantly and swimming down the dark walls like crystalline rivers.
In the ringing echo of solid, heat-forged glass being reduced to nothing but twinkling fragments, he finally knew what had been standing in their way for so long.
Words.
All I'm really asking for is…
xxx
Possessiveness was a foreign feeling to her, and an old friend to him. It slithered like a snake into her mind, and kept her a slave to its every whim until she finally submitted to the reality of the situation. Blood, body, mind, and soul; she wanted to take every piece of him and incorporate it into her own being, so she could have him with her at all times.
It scared her tender heart, it rattled her rational mind, and it felt absolutely exhilarating when she gave into it and accepted it for what it was.
Months stretched by.
The word kept repeating itself in her mind. It was sewn into her flesh, like a tattoo she would never, ever want to remove.
Mine.
He had chains stored away in his mind, heavy and metallic, tough enough to tap away life-source if needed. He had never thought she would come to him willingly, not after leaving him. Birds who were robbed of their freedom were seldom happy, and when they lifted their wings they never once looked back.
The chains were put aside, replaced by his burning revelation and need to voice it.
That final wall – no, that final tower that the both of them had unwillingly built was crumbling. Buried beneath its foundation he had found his resolution, the missing piece of his living, organic love for her. The load roar that had been suffocated by their ignorance, invisible to the eye;
Mine.
xxx
Trudging through the snow-covered woods, her shoulders quivered, but she did not fret over the cold permeating her coat and winter boots; she had warmth in her heart and it was burning hotly.
Meeting in their castle – those outside walls that had trapped them for months – was unnecessary. Once and for all she would bare her innermost wish for him, and she would do it with no constraints.
She sensed him before she could see him. Inhaled his musky scent of sandalwood and mint, compromised only by the slight spice and sweetness that was entirely caused by his yearning for her.
She wanted to see him again, so, so bad; those seconds before their line of sight crossed again were the longest seconds of her life, and she swore they had been drawn out on purpose by some outside force.
As always she blazed like the sun, even in the midst of a winter night. Their steps were rushed, soon they were nearer than they had been for a while, and his heart would not calm itself no matter how hard his thoughts tried coaxing it into calming down.
She had that effect on him. Always had, always will.
Now vocal chords became a necessity. Something needed to be said, but before words could be exchanged they crushed each other in a desperate embrace.
She was small, so small but so strong; fitting perfectly into his arms and melting into his hold on her. He was her favorite tree; ancient, towering above her, always rooted in her heart, never once straying from his place. She buried her head in his chest, savored his scent and the sound of his heart beating, telling her that he was alive and that…
He was hers.
As she was his.
Words – that final boundary, invisible but persistent in its existence...
She retracted slightly from his arms, and his hands landed on her back.
"I belong only to you," she confessed.
"You're mine," He said hoarsely.
Stormy eyes looked up at him. "And you…"
"And I am yours."
"Mine," she concluded with shimmering eyes, staring straight into his soul and pleading for him to understand the extent of her feelings for him.
"Mine," he echoed, stroking her cheek and basking in the fulfillment of claiming her as a piece of him.
This was it. Their lips crashed together, in an explosion of feelings that was akin to chemicals reacting. Everything was melting; crumbling – the world around them could not match the inferno between them.
Actions spoke louder than words, and sometimes the reasons behind those actions were never as clear as the message they carried within them, and so words became a necessity. A tattoo. A symbol. A label that could be burned into skin and memory; a sentiment that relied their devotion and adoration. Words that spoke volumes so loud that they sometimes roared above the decibel level of sensibility.
Fangs in a neck.
Eyes in a staring contest.
Hands travelling places that had never explored before.
You're…
Mine.
FIN.