Gowns
**REUPLOADED: Sep 20, 2012
A/N: The "long-awaited", but not really, sequel to Dresses! It's been such a long, long time. I'm not even sure if this counts as a sequel, but it can stand on its own as well. Takes place inside the Campania (manga-verse), before my Corpses fic (which I suggest you read)
He came crawling on his knees as soon as the grand ballroom on the third floor was clearing of walking corpses and filling with dead ones. Now, as if the bodies weren't that foul-smelling enough, he was thankful that most of the bodies only took a certain space of the room. The rest were scattered about, tossed around, hanging from ledges, and lying at tables.
And the last of them fell, a pained groan from its mouth, as a bullet shell 'tinked' on the marble floor.
He looked up from his hiding place from behind a buffet table; sad though, the food was soiled with dead blood and decaying entrails.
His angel came with bullets and lace.
His mouth was agape, and before his mind could register his actions; he was running over bodies and skipping through plates.
He literally crashed onto her left leg and was embracing it as if she was Aphrodite.
"Would you let go of my leg, sir?" His savior asked him in a disturbed tone.
He was busy gasping and moaning his gratitude over her leg.
She sighed, rolling dark blue eyes as she did so. Locking the gun into place on her back, she repeated in a more threatening tone, "Sir, unhand my leg else I will be forced to break bones."
He looked up, and gazed upon her face; soft skin framed by short, wispy black hair with two glinting sapphires as eyes—he muses—she looks like, she must be!—his eyes widen in sudden recall.
"My blue bird!" He tightens his hold on her leg, placing kisses on the skin her sock and skirt failed to hide.
"Unhand me!" She shouts, grabbing his forearm, giving a quick yank away from her, pulling him up on his feet.
He counteracts smoothly; placing his free hand on the one on his forearm, he slides her hand into his, taking the opportunity to place his lips on her (unfortunately) covered fingers.
"How could you forget me, blue bird?" He speaks casually as he rises from her hand, caressing the back of her palm with his thumb, a gentle look on his face.
"Sir, I honestly do not know what you are talking about." She states, pulling her hand and plucking her fingers from his. "If you are without your lover this evening, I cannot fully assure you that she is safe from any harm."
"Ah, but you are right and wrong on that matter, blue bird." He says, "I am without a lover, for my lover is to be you." He draws unpredictably close.
"Sir," She sighs, but stills in place, "You must have me confused with someone else, I will take you to the deck and then you find your missing lover, alright?" She nods.
"My dear blue bird," He reaches a hand to her cheek, stroking it, "How can one mistake you for another?"
She presses close; he could feel her chest press into his as she exhales, her lips tempting as they were close, "Well, for one—"
"We have never met until now." She harshly shoved him away, an arm's length between them, "And frankly, I do not intend on meeting you again." She spins on her heel and starts to parade away.
He stops her with a rough pull on the junction of her elbow—he's been playing with the occult—she thinks.
"Ah, but fate has brought us together," He presses his cheek to the back of her head, "And it shall not drive us apart, again."
"You're delusional—" She spins and strikes a fist at his head, wanting to bash sense into him. He counters by pulling on the incoming fist, sending him and her crashing into him. She retorts with a sideways kick, but he hooks his other hand behind her knee, pulling her flush against him.
"And you're beautiful." He congratulates himself by sending a soft kiss on the corner of her parted lips; he then captures her lips gracefully.
The searing sensation makes him loosen his grip on her wrist, which she gratefully uses to smack the side of his head. He stumbles away from her with a shocked gasped.
"Do not touch me, ever again." She dusts herself off and fixes her slightly skewed skirt.
He recovers quickly and smoothly, having the opportunity to reveal a rose from his coat pocket, "I, my lady, am the Viscount of Druitt," He raises the pink rose to her cheek with a flirtatious grin on his face, "Aleister Chamber."
"And I," She smacks the rose away from her and walks past him, thankful that he doesn't follow her, "—am not interested." She looks at him a final time, eyes scrutinizing.
"Ah, but we shall meet again, blue bird!" He remarks confidently, she walks off and out of the doors, but not before a quick;
"The deck can be reached by climbing the back stairs of this room, the living corpses have been cleared and you are safe until you reach the boats."
"And I shall know your true name!" He shouts after her.
His angel came with bullets, lace, but without a name.
"Until we meet again, blue bird."
A/N: May or may not be part of the prequel series for Onnashituji, hell revisited.
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