Sorry if You're not into this pairing. I'm exploring all my options. I rolled my ankle so I have been typing a lot today.
Because in the end, he never lost himself, he just veered from the path. He was propped high upon a pedestal. He fell to the ground from it. She was awarded with his unconcious body. It was thought that she had suffered the most out of everyone. It was said that she had a right to his torture.
She never shed his blood. Slowly they began to talk. An unsteady aliance was forged between mistress and pet. And so began the story of Sakura Haruno and the Man Who Wouldn't Die.
It was so smooth. So very fragile. With a little pressure, it would shatter under the tips of her fingers. Just a push and it would be nothing but broken shards of a past beauty.
The mask was white. It made his skinny face look even paler. The ghost of his former self peaked from behind the porcelain. She longed for that. He would resist her so long ago. There was no fight left in him now.
His once bright yellow eyes were now flat. The plans he would make inside his head where gone now. Replaced by compliance and the want to please. He never tries to bite her hand anymore. He sees no point in it.
She misses the challenge he presented. He stood for the impossible. He was the one who could not be broken. Now he was little more than a pet. "Come to me Orochimaru." she whispered as she entered the room. He heeded her call.
His gait was slow but even. Something was different about his captor today. Her eyes were always cold and hard, filled with dislike and anger. Today they seemed as empty as his own appeared to be.
She slowly reached for his arm. He let her. Today there would be no games. She curled herself against his chest and shivered. He pulled both of his restored arms around her. She nestled herself in deeper.
"They have done it." she says quietly, wanting to cry so badly, but being unable to. She thinks he does not know of what goes on outside of his little house. He heared the voices through the walls. They spoke of the termination of the last jinchuuriki. The Nine-Tailed Fox.
The last of her team had been stolen from her today. She was once again all alone, just like himself. The tears that rolled that day were not her's, but his. He remembered the smiles of his team-mates after a victory. He remembered their shock as he betrayed them. He remembered the lose of a teacher and friend.
The girl in his arms was alone now. Alone just like him. He thinks maybe being kept here won't be so meaningless anymore. He thinks that she will be full of life again soon. Just as she longs to be. Just as he longs to be. It feels so wrong to compare the two. He knows this.
He was empty. He was the embodiment of greed. Now he is a toy for someone else's amusement. He knows this should trouble him. It doesn't. It is so easy to become lost. He is disgusted with himself because of it. He looks down at the small frame in his embrace.
He will not become disgusted with her. He will help her stay on her own path. Maybe it will be for the better. The spark is returning to his eyes. Maybe she will grow to understand. His face becomes less pale. Maybe she will see herself as I do, as the rest of the world does.
And for the first time in years, Orochimaru kissed someone with passion and care. They made love with his mask still on, because he couldn't let her see the emotion on his face. Weither it was for her sake or his own, it mattered not.