WOOOOHOOOOOOO! Hi.

There are just not enough Bel x FemViper fics out there, am I right? So I decided to write my own (crappy) one and contribute. I like this couple a lot. (Only when Viper's a girl in it, though. BelViper yaoi seems weird to me - that's only my opinion though, so please don't take any offense to it if you think differently, heh.)

I don't own KHR or the characters or anything, which is saddening. Though, if I did, Gokudera would be a lot more angsty (IDK why I like him like that), there would be MORE BLOOD, all the Shimon people would drop dead and Mukuro and Chrome would just freaking get together already. Seriously. Oh and if there are any mistakes in this, please let me know so I can fix them right away.

Le Prince Sanglant (A/N: French title FTW!)

She took the rag out from under the running water and wrung it out with her thin, manicured fingers. Sighing, she turned to see the man slumped onto the bathroom floor. The bathroom was quiet save the whistle of the sink, which was extinguished shortly thereafter, as the red puddle beneath him grew.

It was uncanny how he could still retain his dignity when blood was spilling from him in multiple places.

Viper was wearing that black lipstick he loved, a silent and personal way of encouraging his luck in battle, though she still kept her hooded cloak on and the top half of her pale face shadowed. The man in the bathroom with her never quite knew why she kept herself so covered up, even when she was all assuredly alone in the castle.

He only stared at her through his blood-matted bangs. The way he looked, if you didn't know the circumstance, you would say he had just walked through the annual Tomato Festival and got tired. She only wished it were the simple and innocent.

She bent down and gingerly touched the white rag to his wound. He winced, but didn't make much of a sound. It made her jump regardless. It didn't take long for the small towel to be completely corrupted by the deep ruby red, over and over again, yet she rinsed it diligently until as much blood as was extractable from the cloth was down the drain and forgotten, liquid royalty long gone in the pipes. Though, she felt she was going in desperate circles of futility; his wound was not closed, so he continued getting drained and dirty. Every movement he made, no matter the subtlety, made him spew forth more blood, and brought him closer and closer to death.

Eventually, she left and came back with rolls of Ace.

He was still and numbly cooperative while she bound him with the white bands. His breathing was wet and heavy, and he continued gazing at her.

Viper smiled sadly as she tucked the end of the bandage roll underneath another band to stay in place. "I think you may have overdone it this time," she said grimly, and she spread her hand on his floundering chest.

"You know, you are kind of sweet when you're half-dead…" she said tragically. She sifted her dainty fingers through the individual strands of his hair, brushing it slowly sideways until she had revealed his eyes and was cradling his heavy head with one of her hands. "…Belphegor."

His eyes were cloudy in his shocked state; this was frightening as they were normally so clear and awake. Viper looked like a blur to him. He smiled haphazardly at her fuzzy half-face and let out a very faint, breathy, delirious chuckle. His teeth barely showed. She sighed and tried her hardest to smile back at him.

Viper had found her only sanctuary in Prince Belphegor. They were both outcasts, both so messed up, drawn together. Belphegor trusted her, too, more than anyone he ever had before. He trusted her enough to let her rid of his sacred blood, be the only one in the world to see his gorgeous eyes and touch him and take him away from his all-too-real reality of blood and pain and suffering. She stayed close to him, softly squeezing his shoulders, and nothing made her happier than to hear him breathe. His wheezing steadied over a little bit of time.

She laid her head on his white chest, focusing intently on the prince's heartbeat that became so beautiful to her. He still seemed out of it. She subconsciously slid her arms around his abdomen and pulled herself closer. She was practically in his lap. Normally he would react adversely to anyone touching him, but at that moment he didn't care – he was too weak, and she too beloved.

Immediately she felt her hood slipping down the back of her head. Her wide eyes and her fair forehead hit the air. Strands of her dark, dark locks fell out from under the receding hood. She sat up and let go of Belphegor, only to suddenly find her black lipstick rubbing off onto him.

Then she held tighter, and her eyes came to close into blackness again, and for a second, she forgot he was injured, and they both forgot that there were other people than themselves in this world, and he forgot his lonesome philosophy.

He fell limp. She felt a frigid discomfort flow through her and she shivered under her cloak. His heart rate became slower.

She stood and stepped back. There was color in his inanimate face now. He was going to make it through a rough time. Viper never minded the blood on her shirt, but collected herself, grudgingly flipping her hood back up over her head.