24/100 Dark. Sephiroth/Genesis
Totally stolen.. I mean inspired by one of Sphinxofthenile's drabbles...
I forgot just how fun it is writing in first person... I must do it more often...
Dark
Only For You
I never stopped loving you.
Not for one second. Even when you stood there, in the reactor, as your mind broke down and I spewed up the bitter truth you were never meant to know, I wanted nothing more than to see you smile.
It was fear that drove me then, a fear that as this degradation continued, as I slowly died, I would never hear you laugh again.
It is fear that drives me now; fear that I have changed you into something you should never have become. I twisted you with these hands, tainted with blood, tainted with the sins of my dark past.
You've become a monster, a servant of a force you can't even understand.
I stand here, still loving you, begging for you to turn back. Your cells, the ones I need to survive, don't matter to me anymore. For now, I just don't want to see you fall in such a way that I can no longer see you. But as I stare into your once beautiful emerald eyes, I witness that the man I love is there no longer.
The goddess had played us for fools.
Are we but pawns of fate that were never meant to be together? Then why did it feel to true standing besides you?
We are a wicked circle, you and I.
I abused what we had, disfiguring our affections into the acidic hatred that eats away at me as you exploit my weakened state.
I say nothing.
I move no longer.
Unable to call tears to these faded eyes you once only had to glance at to smile.
I am your broken doll, as you whisper, pushing me down onto the cold, hard ground and not even the black, satin texture of my wing brings me any comfort. There is no affection, no love in your touches. I'm certain if you wore no gloves, your nails would be digging into my skin. Your fingers hurt as it is, gripping so tightly as you work away at my clothes. I just watch, not with a smile as I had so often before; not with my hands caressing your beautiful face and moonlight hair, I just lay and let you have me, because I deserve to be used.
After all, had I not done the same to you, just without physical contact?
Oh, you poor marionette, you've never been set free, someone has always been grasping at your strings. Even now, you think this is what you want, your eyes seem certain and your hands are relentless, but it is her that is driving you. It is her voice that is screaming for you to break. And break me you will, three of your cold fingers enter me, but I'm grateful for this, a little show that some part of you still feels for me, that she hasn't seized all of you yet.
You laugh as you work inside me, as I bite back tears but sacrifice control over my mouth and I moan for you, a sound that I'm sure you hate. You don't want to know that I'm loving this, and I can truthfully tell you I'm not.
A creature driven by passion, but I am a man craving affection.
You knew this once, an attribute you adored, but I fear to open my eyes and see how you find it now.
Are you smiling?
Because this is proving how much power you hold over me?
Is this malice making you feel any euphoria?
I wish I could feel, but it is not the degradation that is numbing me now. It's not even the searing, white-hot pain as you pierce inside me; something that had once taken us away to our private paradise, that now lay in ruins and burning, with my own hand holding the match.
Your smile grows as you smell my blood, a taste you love and share with me in your bruising kiss.
I assume you expect me to struggle, to scream and to hate you, but I cannot because this is not you. As more skin is torn and I bleed for you, finally I cry out your name, as if I thought it would bring you back to me.
You stop and stare. Foolishly I open my eyes, praying this was all a wicked dream, but the Goddess has abandoned me and I meet with your bitter grin.
You spit bitter remarks at my face, how I wanted this, planned this, just to receive your cells. I am self-centred and nothing more than a depraved, scheming fox, that was once my namesake you once uttered with a smile, and I was destined to decay.
I cannot lie, for I can no longer speak.
There is nothing else to say to you, nothing that you would ever listen to will ever be uttered from these lips, split and bleeding on account of you.
You leave me, like I left you, heeding her calls. Her. Your new mistress.
I lay there, crying for you, pleading that the Goddess shows you mercy, that the fates will treat you fairly, because you, the little marionette, were never given a choice.
And even now, through all this, I've never stopped loving you.