I believe that it was DemonUntilDeath who thought that Kurama's reaction to Celia's death was not visited properly and slightly out of place. It was out of place, wasn't it? Very out of place. Hm. I wonder why that would be?
If only you could see me grin right now.
xo
Chapter Six
Four days later, Kurama stood beside a deep pit in the ground; it's dark, open mouth yawning up to swallow the polished wooden box that was slowly being lowered into it. The priest mumbled a prayer, accompanied by the sounds of crying from the living that stood behind the redhead.
He stood solemn and silent, refusing to cry. He couldn't. He simply could not let these innocent mourners know how their loved one had met her end. It would be too cruel, and none of them would be able to understand anyway.
And so his cheeks remained dry as he tossed a single red rose into the hole with the casket, where it mingled with the white wreath that sat atop the wood, a solitary, bloody testimony of his guilt.
Switch
Hiei sat cross-legged before a faded stone, surrounded by the monuments of the dead. His fingers idly traced his father's name upon the whether-roughed surface, tranquil in the crisp autumn air that toyed with his hair and clothes. He murmured softly to the stone, telling his father of his life, of the things he had done, poured his heart out to the silent rock, knowing it would forgive him without judgment. It certainly beat confession.
If only it were his father that he was whispering to, who would forgive him and tell him he had done the right thing. But Hiei had quickly learned that regret does nothing but slow you down and torture you with "what ifs" and "if onlys." He had suffered enough from his guilt; if only he had tried a little harder, what if he had gotten there sooner… but then his father would be alive, and he would not be what he was today.
And while it was terrible, he liked who he had become. Strong. Powerful. In complete control. No one would ever take that from him ever again.
The only problem he could find with the foreseeable future was that boy. Yes, the bartender was taller than him, but with his carefree attitude and easy smiles, Hiei couldn't help but think of him as a child. The dark-haired man had spent every night, from nine o'clock up until one, at Nocturne's Nest, waiting for the other to show up. But he never did. The place was full of his presence, so Hiei knew that their meeting was no accident, Kurama frequented the bar often. So why hadn't he been there in the past week?
Hiei was determined to have him, but how did one lay claim to something one could not find? Frustrating.
Lifting his eyes to the mass of black-clad people gathered around a freshly dug grave, his attention was grabbed by a splash of red hair engulfed by more subtle colors. He only knew of one person with red hair that long and vivid… Watching intently, he was rewarded by a flash of green eyes and that beautiful face, drawn and sad, an answer to his silent prayers.
Unfolding himself from the ground, Hiei brushed off the back of his pants, thrust his hands in his pockets and began to walk toward the dispersing crowd.
Switch
A hand came to rest on his shoulder, turning Kurama gently around. He did so slowly, eyes drinking in the sight of the beautiful man that had walked into his bar a mere week ago. Had it only been a week? Hiei. His name was Hiei, that much he remembered.
Kurama felt his legs weaken under the scrutiny of those mesmerizing red eyes, feeling his own well with tears he struggled to hold back.
Hiei scanned the redhead, dressed all in black, emphasizing his pallor and his valiant fight to remain unemotional. Grasping Kurama's hand in his own, he pulled, leading the passive bartender from the crowd.
"Come on," Hiei whispered. "Let's get you out of here."
Switch
The aroma of coffee that steamed from the cup in front of him brought some measure of life to Kurama's eyes as he wrapped his long fingers around the mug. Lifting his gaze from the white ceramic, he looked up at the man across the table. Hiei looked like some barely tamed wild thing, his hair a mess of black, his white t-shirt almost too tight, tucked into black jeans. His angelic face was turned towards Kurama, a worried look fading to be replaced by a smile.
Not really a smile, Kurama corrected himself, more of a twitch of the left side of his mouth, which was the closest he would get to the real thing. His own lips curved tentatively in response as he lifted the mug and sipped at the bitter brew.
Nodding in approval, Hiei did the same, not once taking his eyes from Kurama. When the redhead set his cup down, he asked "Better?"
"Much," Kurama hesitated. "Thank you."
He brushed it off with a shrug. "You looked like you needed to leave. But you're alright now?"
Kurama began to nod, but the tears that stung the back of his eyes called him a liar, and he knew the other saw it.
"Tell me," he commanded.
Kurama chuckled dryly, ironic that the only person who would ask him was a near stranger. Ironic that he wanted to tell him the truth.
"Her name is… was Celia. She was my girlfriend," he confessed, and Hiei felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. Damn. "And, uh, the last thing I said to her was that she was a conniving bitch and basically that I never wanted to see her again."
Hiei relaxed fractionally. Better, they had broken up. Still not good though.
"I mean, how's that for closure? So she left me sitting at a restaurant table, and I followed her… I found her in Central Park… she was dead…" Kurama lifted his hands to his face, coffee forgotten. "I just didn't know what to do… she was sucked dry, there wasn't any blood left in her body."
Across the table, Hiei had stiffened, face carefully blank. "What do you mean, no blood?" he asked.
Kurama giggled hysterically, "I know! The police think it was one of those wannabe gangs trying to make it look like a vampire attack." He giggled again, hoping it would hide his guilt. "Seriously. Vampires…"
Inhaling deeply, Hiei took another sip of coffee. "Vampires. Jesus."
Scanning the small, pale face before him, Kurama reached out with both hands, wrapping them around the smaller ones holing the coffee cup. "Thank you… for getting me out of there. And for listening. I know it sounds unbelievable."
Hiei nodded, setting down the cup and turning his hands so he held the other's in his own. "Your hands are freezing." Using his thumbs, he rubbed tiny circles around the backs of Kurama's hands, trying to coax some warmth into them.
Kurama stared intently at him; face tilted down, fiery eyes focused on his self-appointed task. The sensation of the not-quite innocent skin on skin contact sent a shiver coursing through the redhead. He sighed, allowing himself this one small pleasure.
His fingers stilled, simply holding the now warm hands in his palms before grasping them lightly. "Come. Coffee is not what you need."
Switch
Kurama hoped to whatever god was listening that they would not crash. The motorcycle flew down the streets, the buildings a blur as they passed. Cars in New York barely hit forty miles per hour with so many stoplights and pedestrians, but the bike… Oh, why did he agree to this?
Hiei had chivalrously given his only helmet to the redhead, who clung frantically to him, glad that the reflective visor kept his eyes safe from the dark hair that whipped behind Hiei. Turning his head to rest it on Hiei's shoulder, Kurama felt the hard muscles shift and squeezed his eyes shut as they zoomed around a corner. He swore he felt the pavement brush against his polished black shoes and held on even tighter.
In front of him, Hiei was trying not to grin in elation. The redhead's slender but strong arms were wrapped around his waist and clutching the shirt over his chest. He could feel the entire length of Kurama pressed against his back, shifting when he did, keeping their bodies in tune as Hiei drove at breakneck speed through the city. He could feel the warmth of the redhead though his shirt, combined with the contact and the speed sent a thrill of exhilaration down Hiei's spine. It was better than the hunt. It was even more primal, more basic. Sex and danger.
Giving up his struggle, Hiei grinned demonically against the wind. He would make Kurama forget his pain, and then he would finally rid himself of his obsession.