Disclaimer: I was watching an AMV of Into the Night, and I got inspired. Hope no one is too OOC. This isn't my normal happy style, but it needed to be done. Every author needs an emo story. Italics are the story underneath. You decide who the angel is.
In the place of all things beautiful and good, the angels were enjoying their eternal lives, playing games and acting like happy children.
Music filled the dingy night club, as dancers swung round and round on poles, lithe bodies sweaty and shimmering. The music pumped from the stereos and the walls hummed with the bodies grinding and pressing against them. Girls danced with girls, primitive and beautiful, while some danced with boys, lustful and intense.
In the endless hours of nightmares, the punished growled and snarled, cursing those not among them. Those that could fly freely, those that could soar to new heights forever.
At the stroke of midnight, the skies opened and water pounded the pavement. No one in the crammed building seemed to care about getting home. Tonight was a night to live.
In heaven, the angels sang and laughed. Only one looked down on those that had fallen, those that had lost their wings. On the fallen.
But one lone soul seemed to be determined to ignore the blood stirring beat, and sat at the bar, shot glass in hand. His eyes were slightly unfocused, but he was sober enough to think and speak in coherent sentences. Occasionally, a dark haired boy would break through the crowd and tap him on the shoulder. He would shake his dark head in a firm no, and turn back to the corner.
No one could slip out of those gates of Hell, no one could join those that were free.
Out of the corner of one bright eye, a single dancer singled him out, and danced for the boy, the man, sitting alone. Her hair, which had grown long and thick, was down around her hips, and clung to her sweat soaked body like a curtain. She jumped up on her pole, and twirled down seductively, bucking her hips. The men around her cheered and waved bills. She snatched up them all and stuck them firmly in her boot, then changed her mind, and pushed them into her lacy bra followed by a firm squeeze.
The man, her man, did not noticed how one dancer, that was just another face in the hordes of people, became a sudden star. She danced more boldly, more openly teasing then ever before. Girls jumped on to the platform with her, and danced along, as whistles, catcalls, and more money then ever filled the air.
A lone angel spirals down the dark hallway. It isn't forbidden, but no one in their right mind would tread there. So she has come.
The man at the counter signaled for another shot. The dancer's carefully lined eyes glistened with a new light of mischief, and she beckoned over to one of her friends on the floor, and pointed to the man drinking by his lonesome. Her friend danced and squirmed through the crowd, slapping off wandering hands and mouths. She tapped the brooding man on the shoulder and pointed back at the dancer, who began dancing still more erotically. She clambered to the very top of the pole and bumped her way down, splitting her teasing smile in half, and hiding the open crotch of her lacey panties. The man raised an eyebrow and wordlessly followed the girl towards the dancer.
One angel descended to the lowest circle of hell and looked at all the lost souls.
The twirling dancer grinned and moved harder and faster to the increasing beat of the music. The DJ, an old roommate, had too noticed the dancer working for the attention of the lonely man at the bar, and pushed the music to the breaking point. It seemed that the club would explode in itself.
The man looked up at the spinning girl, the smiling face, and the sparse clothing. She extended a hand and he
A monster of the underworld finds an angel in the darkest pit of hell.
took her hand, and she pulled him onto the stage. And he looked out at the dark room, full of people and life, of the need to feel human and joyous. He looked down at the glaring men, the jealous ones, and pulled the dancer onto the dance floor, inviting her to step into the fray of bodies.
The demon extends one damned hand, and the angel lifts her delicate arm, and accepts.
The dancer, who just became a woman, jumped down onto the floor with the man, and he pulls her back into his chest. Other men lean into her slender hips, but he pushes them away with an angry snarl of a beast. She moves one graceful arm up, up his strong chest, up to the tips of his dark hair, and tentatively drapes it around his neck. He almost loses control at her touch, almost shivers from the feeling of cold fire.
The angel and her monster dance in a circle, swaying as the foulest and the most broken look on. They try to understand, but no words can form in anyone's mind, as the two dancers wind tighter and tighter, becoming one.
The man wraps two hands around her flat stomach, and traces the hard lines with his fingertips. He looks carefully at her face, and sees that her eyes have closed and she can only sway to the pressing music that binds all of the souls in the room together.
The other beasts of hell jeer and howl angrily that this is not the world of angels; it is theirs and theirs alone. The monster and angel retreat to the stairway from which they had met. They must part, for angels cannot stay forever, and the monster with a heart of gold cannot pass through the threshold to heaven.
He begins to move in sync with her, something new, and he feels a speck of uncertainty. But she is there and she won't let him fall, because she can catch him, pull him up so he can soar. They rock with each other, not following the music, just swaying. And she startles him and turns around so his face is only inches away. And she opens her eyes, and he sees how they catch the flickering light.
The demon of hell traces the angel's face of smooth perfection, and feeling rush into the heart he does not possess. The angel smiles, and whispers a promise to return, one day soon, when they can dance and dance. They can meet at the staircase, and they will wait for each other to return. Because that is all they can do.
And as the DJ announces this will be the last song for the night, she leans close to him, and he tries not to notice how perfectly the bulge of her collarbone fits in the hollow at the base of his neck. And those gleaming arms drop down slowly, tracing his dark shirt like a raging stream subdued. Her breath tickles in the smooth shell of his ear, and for just a moment
because that is all that they have
he can't breathe, can't think, can't remember why this stranger is tight in his arms. And then the moment
their moment
passes and it comes back when she whispers, "My name is Hinata."