Disclaimer: ...good one.
A/N: I still don't know what exactly this is. But there's definitely some Rayne now... couldn't help it.
Spectrum: Two
by Tince
She liked that he was violent.
That he enjoyed the pain and pleasure of a fight, blood pumping and stomach clenching. It made him feel alive, tethered, important. When his fist - the size of small boulder - was rushing towards your face at an ungodly speed, you tended to forget everything and everyone else.
He became the centre of the world: kicking and punching and smashing and destroying. He became a demon, smiling and growling and dragging his enemies down to a fiery hell.
His force came from muscle and sinew and bone: straining biceps and iron-hard fists, built and maintained and cultivated to deliver pain and victory. He controlled his body, calculating the angle necessary, the weapon needed to conquer and eliminate.
Hammering down blows, merciless and grinning.
Solid. Like rock and earth and everything warm. Unshakeable, immovable, steady.
Grounded.
He liked that she was violent.
That a tiny, fragile ballerina could snuff the lives out of dozens of men - hard-as-nails mercs and trained soldiers alike - spinning and whirling; dancing a fatal routine without thought or effort.
She became unhinged, without equal in fierce beauty and power. She was exceptional in many ways - most ways - but when she was fighting, she was something else... transcendent.
She hid it well, so well that it never failed to amaze him. Hid the strength and stealth - that combined made her the deadliest of all weapons. Crafted to kill, without mistake or failure.
Weapons like that were sleek, minimal, almost delicate... beautiful.
The results were always astounding: the lethal force unleashed and impossible to defend against.
Her face would settle into an unshakeable mask of calm, of concentration, intent on total victory. And her body would take over, the staggering ferocity of her blows almost comical in relation to the hands and feet delivering them. She was so much greater than the sum of her parts.
Angelic. Rhythmic and flowing, like a soft breeze, like a rushing stream. Twisting and turning to the sounds and sighs of the universe.
Free.
A/N: I reckon I'm not going to beg for reviews childishly anymore.*
(*unless you would like me to)