Common
A/N: Alright, Vampire Knight, here we go! First fic, so don't be too harsh. I was inspired by a fic with these characters, but somehow, I can't find it. . .
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Knight—if I own it Seiren would have more screen time in both the manga and the anime.
Warnings: possible OoC-ness and cliché-ness, language, some errors, some spoilers(?)
There is nothing common between the both of them.
They rarely speak to each other; chances are they don't even know each other—other than by name, of course. They don't talk with each other, if so, it would only be short, simple words; "Thank you", "Excuse me", "Sorry", and "Goodbye" would usually be it, other than that there's noting else.
He's seen her countless of times, always with Kaname, always protecting him, always with him; if not with him, she would generally be alone observing the group from afar, watching for possible sources of danger.
She was beautiful—like most vampires, but she held a beauty nearly incomparable to others. Her chin-length lavender hair gave off and silvery glint, sometimes it shone like glitter when she stood beneath lights. Her eyes—her eyes were sharp, beautiful; light lavender, with the same silvery glint as her hair. Her eyes were hard, often stone-cold, but sometimes—luckily sometimes, they would soften.
Her well-chiseled face, her pale skin tone, her serious-toned voice, and her legs—good lord, her legs; there was always something about them as he's observed. Maybe it was because they could go on for miles and miles, or because of its soft and supple shape, or maybe because of its flawlessness and tone; whatever it is, he almost always found himself staring at them every time he sees her.
She has undying devotion and loyalty, but to someone who acts like he doesn't need her. But she's still there, always watching, always protecting, and always waiting—she's always there.
He's seen her often outside the Moon Dormitory, waiting for her master and his mistress—even in the pouring rain without an umbrella. He thinks it's stupid that she doesn't go without any form of protection when it's clearly visible that a storm is coming, but his more sensitive side tells him to get out, get her inside, and get her warm despite of what she'll say—he doesn't do anything, but he watches her from the window.
Her clothes cling to her fragile form, he is no pervert, but he can clearly see the finely-formed curves of her body. He looks away, at the right moment her head points in his direction, her eyes narrowed as she wrapped her arms around herself in a futile attempt to warm herself. But for a split second their eyes connected, silver met amber as a small warmth emerged from the both of them.
He is ashamed of himself for simply staring at her in her condition, but at the millisecond that their eyes met, he felt a strong urge similar and yet very different from bloodlust.
She isn't angry at him, she is just uncomfortable, twitchy—having those pair of warm, warm eyes staring down at her, she cannot help but feel violated. When she met his stare, an electrifying shock coursed through her, for a moment she felt as if she was burning.
When Kuran arrives, he is quickly shaded with an umbrella by her. He takes a hand from his car and welcomes his love as they enter the building. She is only greeted by a mere "Thank you," and nothing else.
He sights the expensive limousine far off and exits the room with a thick blanket. He runs down the steps and stops when the Kuran couple enters the hall. He greets them with a quick "G'morning," before dashing off to the door and to the soaked vampire.
At first he thinks to scold her, for having an umbrella and not using it for herself, but he restrains himself and quickly pulls her by the wrist and onto his chest. He places the blanket over her shoulders and pulls away—she stops him.
She stops him by latching both of her hands onto his hips. He is terribly warm, as much as she would want to knee him in the groin, run off, and save her pride, she stays. The couple is now far off in the other room, leaving them completely alone. She mumbles something as she presses in closer, finding his body heat ever-so tempting.
He is slowly getting soaked as she presses against him. She doesn't know how aroused this makes him feel, but they are still teenagers—physically, and are doomed for the rest of their lives to feel such sensations. He wraps one arm around her shoulder, as he buries his nose—his lips, into her hair. Despite of the rain, she still gave off that indescribable scent—he is intoxicated by her. His other arm then goes to wrap itself around her waist—
She spins out of his grip in caution, but quickly regrets losing his warmth. She pauses, finding herself staring into those eyes of his. Slowly, she feels her insides melt in the intensity of his eyes. She shakes out of it, slowly whispering "Thank you," she nods, never mentioning his name.
She pulls the cover closer around her body as she makes her way to the steps. He nods to her, watching her from the corner of his eye, choosing to let her ascend before he does, thinking of the awkward situation if ever they went up together.
Late in the afternoon, a knock repeats itself onto his door. He groggily rises from his bed, dragging his feet along the floor. He places a hand on the doorknob, opening it with a grumbled "What—?" He stops, pauses, eyes widening at the unexpected visitor on his doorstep.
It was her, thankfully with a change of dry clothes, not that he didn't wish for her to be in those soaking, curve-hugging clothes. She held out the blanket to him with an outstretched hand. "Thank you, for this." She said monotonously.
He stared at her, and then at the neatly folded blanket; he blinks, exchanging glances between her and the blanket. She was still, her eyes never wavering.
"Um, sure, no problem. . ." He managed to drawl out as he took the blanket from her hands, sure to brush his gently on hers.
She gasps near silently at the touch, "If that is all, Akatsuki-san, I'll be on my way now." She whispers, he stops her with his hand gripping her forearm. He pulls her inside, closing the door along with the action.
"I'm sorry, but I just can't let you go without having an answer to my question." He pins her to the wall, her arms on either side of her head, his hands holding them in place.
She is silent, but when her mouth opens, her tone is unmoving and strong, "Akatsuki-san, if you do value your current status, you will release me."
"Fuck my status," His tone was rough, "I need an answer from you." His breath surrounded her—hot, hot air driving her senses wild.
"If you want an answer, Akatsuki-san, you could have asked nicely." He blinked his eyes in bewilderment, was that an amused tone in her voice?
"Why devote your life, your entire being to someone who doesn't care?" He spoke slowly along her ear.
She was silent for a moment, "Because he needs me. I am his shield, his sword, his protector, his guardian, his lover if needed be." The last words came soft.
"How could he need you anymore? When he has this prefect beside him?" His words were harsh; it struck her like the hard rain from the morning.
"She can fight, she can protect him, she loves him and he loves her, so why? Why devote yourself to someone who already has someone else?"
That was true. She can fight better, and with her pureblood status, she can protect him more than she ever could—and she is the true mate of her beloved master. It was painful.
"I live to serve Kaname-sama and Yuki-sama," She paused before saying the last two words—
His grip tightened, and looked straight into her eyes "I'm asking you, I know of your devotion to him, so why protect that girl as well?"
So he knew of her devotion, her infatuation, and she knew of his as well.
"Akatsuki-san, if you are comparing my relationship with Kaname-sama to your relationship with Ruka-san, those are two—"
"I don't care about her!" He stopped her with a loud exclamation. "No, not anymore. . ." He whispered.
"Then I will answer you this," She said, "As I've read in some novels, if one loves another, he should do everything in his power to let no harm come to the other and his partner." Her tone seemed to soften; she seemed to whisper to him.
He noticed that the arm's length distance between them was no more, his body was straight against hers, and she didn't complain or threaten him.
"I am their protector, both of them need me."
His eyes softened, he grip lightened, encasing her hand with his, as he laid his lips on her cheek, "Don't you ever think. . ." His mouth tugged at the corner of her lips. "That someone else might need you?"
"Akatsuki-san, please—" He could sense her discomfort, "Don't make this—"
"Be mine, Seiren. . ." He whispered her name in such a way no one could ever repeat. "Be mine and surely, you wouldn't be unneeded anymore."
Slowly, but surely, his lips found hers and he placed a firm, chaste kiss onto her. His lips were warm, warmer that she'd ever thought possible; she could feel her lips melt and mold along his. His fingers crossed themselves loosely with hers and the other hand found her back, pulling her close. She didn't budge, she didn't move at all; she was still as he continued down her neck. She would kill herself for being so vulnerable, and being violated by him of all people—but she can't help it, he gave her sensation she thought no one could ever do to her.
"Please, Seiren. . ." She heard his bloodlust, she should be out of his grip before the worst comes to fruition.
"Please," She felt his fangs prod her skin, too late; his fangs sank into her neck as she gave a moan in sick pleasure. His tongue dances on her skin and he sucks on her neck, she feels her knees go weak, but she is quickly pushed hard against the wall.
Only two vampires were ever allowed to feed from her, Akastuki Kain isn't one of them, but that sickening desire within her influences her to make him an exception. . .
Now he is far from her, beside the opened window, letting the scent of the night breeze mask her's. He is surprised that she is still there, still resting on his bed—fully clothed, of course—the two bite marks on her neck visibly healing. What surprises him more is that she didn't slap him, or punch him, or knee him in the groin.
"I'm sorry. . ." He mutters, but loud enough for her to hear.
". . ." She is silent, still breathing deeply, her chest heaving up and down.
He feels the bloodlust dissolve, wiping her blood off his chin with his sleeve, he nears her cautiously, "Are you alright?" He sounded concerned.
"I'm fine, Akatsuki-san, no need to trouble yourself with me." She replied calmly as she still lay on his bed.
He sat parallel to her, but he never glanced to her direction, "What you said earlier. . ." She asked, "Was it all true?" She rose from her position and slid backwards, so that she was beside him, only in the opposite direction.
He was at loss for words, "I-I—"
She placed her hand over his, hearing him gasp softly, "If I say yes, Akatsuki-san, what would become of us?"
"I-I don't—I wouldn't really—Would you—?" His train of incoherent words are stopped by her; she placed the other hand on his cheek, making him face her. Here eyes were half-lidded and her lips were plump and pink. He never saw her like this before, he doubt anyone—even Kaname—had.
His hand reached to cup her face, but as he touched her cheek, she turned her head away from him.
"What would become of us, Akatsuki-san? You and I both know that we have pledged our loyalties to others."
"Fuck them," He muttered, reaching out to pull her onto him. She turned to him and smiled, she smiled, she smiled. . . Seiren smiled.
He paused, sensing him doubt, she pulled herself perpendicularly onto his lap, her legs hooked on his waist. He didn't know what to be more surprised with; the fact that she smiled, their current position, or both?
"Seiren—" She placed her hands on either side of his neck, "If I say yes, Akatsuki-san, will you grant me permission to drink from you?"
"A-As-as much as you'd like, if you stay with me and grant me the same. . ." His voice grew softer and softer, as she reached up.
She pressed in close, closer, closer, until they met.
FIN
A/N: Wow, huh, longest one-shot I've created. . . Read and review please? I'm sorry for OoC moments. . .
