AN: Phewww, I'm SO GLAD you didn't hate on me for having not be all that jealous XD Kasienda said a very true, true thing there in the reviews, and it's one of the reasons why I didn't portray him as being jealous: Jealousy is a very toxic thing for relationships, and it's very hard for the partner. It gets romanticized a lot, when really it only shows a lack of trust in your partner, or yourself. And seeing as I try to portray them as having the most healthy relationship as possible (albeit very, very symbiotic - but that's how I imagine a soul-bounded I-can-feel-wht-you-feel-what-you-feel relationship to be like).
That being said, there are of course instances where it's NORMAL, and not that bad, of course. Say, for one, when you're crushing on someone, and you're NOT in a commited long-term-relationship, and that person has other suitors. There is no BASIS for trust,yet, and then of course it's normal. (And yes, there I enjoy reading of it IMMENSELY.)
ANYWAY.
Thank you for all the crazy support on these last two chapters. It's making me write so, so, so much faster, and I cannot thank you enough for it!
Who I also can't thank enough is UglyGreenJacket, my beta. This thing here is book-sized, I'm very aware of it, and she's taking so much of her free time out of her schedule to edit this for me. Thank you, love!
AND, before we go on, another warning:
This chapter contains another M rated sex-scene, so if that's not for you, skip parts of the first scene! I tried, of course, to make it as tasteful as ever, and I'm not "showing" it all the way, really, but... you know. You get to choose if you wanna read sex scenes or not ;)
L
Mamoru woke with a groan; not because of a hangover, of course – thankfully he didn't get those, courtesy of his healing powers – but because Usagi's knee had kicked him in the chin.
He rubbed a hand across it, opening and stretching his mouth and jaw to soothe the jab of pain from it, but couldn't help chuckling.
Usagi lay spread all across the bed, turned sideways, her head barely on the edge of it anymore, one leg flung over his pillow, one foot – attached to the knee that had attacked him, now flat against his chest, both arms stretched to either side of her. She'd kicked the blanket all the way off the bed, leaving both of them exposed. His button-down that she wore was scrunched around her middle, and he rolled his eyes amusedly at the sight of her panties.
There was a small, anime style Tuxedo Mask on the front of it. She wore them, sometimes, to annoy him, and he must have not noticed them, last night, in his drunken state.
Outside the window of her bedroom, the sun had long risen, heating the room as if it were summer. Birds were chirping loudly in the tree beside her window.
He propped his elbow up, and rested his head in it, as he pulled her foot away from his chest with his other arm, and then proceeded to rearrange her on the bed, snaking his hand across her soft tummy to get a grip on the smooth skin of her waist in order to draw her towards him and into the proper angle that normal people, who weren't his girlfriend, slept in – it was easily done, of course, even with one arm. Usagi tended to mold herself against his touch, even as she slept like the dead.
She moaned softly and snuggled into his side drowsily, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder just like Luna sometimes did, and he couldn't suppress the smile at it.
Damn, she was adorable.
It had heated up considerably – unnaturally so – even though it was already October, so her skin was a little clammy and sweaty – which meant that, to him, she smelled downright irresistible.
He contemplated waking her up by running his tongue in the dip of her hip bones, under her breast, in her navel… but she'd had a bit to drink, as well, and he wanted her to sleep a bit more, lest she felt uncomfortable for it. So, he just lay there, watching her, running one finger absentmindedly along the seam of her ridiculous Tuxedo Mask panties.
He hadn't counted on the little whirlwind in the attic, though.
Chibi-Kiju obviously was up already, as well, hopping through the sweet little makeshift room the Tsukinos had made up for her under the roof, which happened to be right above Usagi's, yelling loudly down her set of stairs toward whom he assumed was Ikuko. Ami had promised to take her to the aquarium today, show her more of what the little girl liked most: life. And, unsurprisingly, Shingo had suddenly both developed an interest in watching over his surrogate little sister and all things maritime, overnight, and had agreed to go, as well – something that had amused Usagi dearly.
He could hear her voice loud and clear, it was so loud – whenever she got excited she passed for a Tsukino effortlessly.
Usagi groaned, her voice muffled by his shoulder, her brow scrunching up adorably and Mamoru had to chuckle.
"Why does that kid have to be so louuud all the time?" she whined.
He raised an eyebrow, even though she wasn't looking. "You mean unlike you?"
"Hgn" she made, thumping her wrist loosely against his side, offended, and he chuckled again.
"I'm not that bad," she murmured, eyes still closed.
"Right, no," he smirked down at her, unseen. "You're not quite as loud as a four year old, no."
She huffed, but snuggled closer against him, yawning loudly.
"I'm really not as childish as you always seem to think," she mumbled, her voice becoming clearer, as she rubbed her eyes and pointed down at herself. "See? I even slept in a normal-person position tonight."
He laughed, his frame shaking her. Right. If only you knew…
Then he grew serious, frowning, and turned fully on his side to look her in the eye.
"You know I don't mind, right?"
"Hm?" she said, angling her face up from his chest to look back of at him.
"That you're loud, and sleep crazy, and eat unhealthy food, and make me dance and a fool out of myself in public?" he said with a soft smile, as she started pouting in mock-offense. "I love those things about you…"
She smiled – it was a bit lazy, not yet completely and fully awake. "You didn't make a fool out of yourself," she started. "And I know for a fact every girl in the room was jealous of me."
He rolled his eyes. Yeah, right.
"No, really!"
He raised both an eyebrow and one side of his lip in a cheeky smirk. "And you don't think they were just jealous because a certain pop idol seems to be so smitten with you?"
"Ugh," Usagi grunted. "Not again"
He chuckled. "It's ok, I'm just joking."
He looked over to the clock, and had to blink twice. It was past noon already – he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept that long. He grunted, and disentangled himself from his protesting girlfriend.
"Noooooo," she whined, clinging to him.
But after more than a year of this, he was well practiced in countering her strategies, and slipped from her effortlessly, even when that pout of hers clearly and definitely was her strongest weapon against his willpower.
Still, he managed.
He withdrew what he wasn't surprised to see to be the last clean shirt he had at hers, from his designated drawer, and slipped it on, leaving it unbuttoned still, before awkwardly folding his long legs into yesterday's black skinny jeans.
Usagi rolled onto her stomach, propping up her elbows, as she watched him dress with her head cocked to her side.
"So, do you like him, now that you've actually talked to him?" she asked.
He was confused for a moment, not knowing what she was talking about, until it came to him. Oh, Seiya. Right.
He shrugged. "I guess."
She rolled her eyes at him.
"Well," he said, inclining his head, "I do see why you two get along that well."
She furrowed her brows. "Eh?"
He shrugged again, fingers starting to work his buttons from the bottom up. "You two are exactly alike…"
She looked absolutely bewildered, causing him to grin at her. "Huh? What?" she exclaimed, appalled. "I'm nothing like that womanizer!"
He smirked, eyes twinkling. "You just don't realize it."
"What? No!"
"Usako..." he said, directing her with that look she liked to call his 'frustrated explaining' mode, and he always rolled his eyes when she said that, but, anyway…
"Both of you can entertain and charm an entire room with your little fingers, put everyone at ease," he said, voice low, eyes soft. "His emphasis might be a bit more towards the entertaining and yours more towards the ease... but you two are so alike it's scary... and so yes, I like him. Of course I like him. He irritates me, but I like him."
The last bit, finally, caused her to smile happily, and he nodded. Mission accomplished.
She did look adorable, the way she lay there on her stomach, face propped on both hands, feet dangling in the air behind her.
"He's much more like Minako, though," Usagi said after a while, her head cocked sideways.
"You're forgetting that you and Minako are pretty alike, too," he answered with a soft smile and a calm voice.
This earned him a frown, her head momentarily perking up and off her hands. "But you hate Minako!"
He blinked at her, and started spluttering. "NO, I don't?" he said, as she raised an eyebrow at him.
"I like her!" he said, and her second eyebrow was raised in answer, joining the other, so he went to elaborate because of it.
"I don't get her, most of the time, and I'm jealous of her, but I don't hate her?"
"Wait," she said, lifting herself up a little straighter. "What? You're jealous of Mina-P?"
He threw her a look that must have conveyed utter confusion. Did she not realize this? Really?
"Of course!" he said, incredulously, and she blinked at him.
He shrugged, and felt a little naked all of a sudden. "I know it's different, but... the bond you two have? They way she loves you so very unconditionally? Of course, I'm jealous…"
"Wait…" she said, and awkwardly sat up. "So, you're not jealous of Seiya, who you claim likes me, but you are jealous of Minako?!"
He shrugged.
"Huh," she said, frowning. "I didn't realize that…"
It looked adorable, of course, as she always did, and he smiled at her amusedly.
Usagi shifted positions, and now sat cross-legged on the bed, sighing. Obviously, she was done sleeping, as well, if rather reluctantly, and started cursing the sun, and how could it get so warm again in bloody October. He kept glancing back at her – even after so long, the sight of her in bed in just his shirt distracted him to no end, but he swallowed it down, and at least tried to focus on the task at hand; shuffling his dirty clothes from his hamper to his duffel bag, as she whined a little more about the heat and the unfairness of it all.
But he couldn't help wondering, and so he interrupted her after a while… "He's way more like you than I am, you know…" he said, his voice coming out more unsure than he had intended.
This caused another frown on Usagi's face, a different kind, and she inched a little closer on the bed.
"Umm... I know you aren't… " He started, shook his head, and dropped the bag, before standing up fully in front of her, instead, raking a hand through his hair which must already look bedridden and ridiculous. "I mean, I feel it, and you don't need to worry I'd think it, but… why me and not him?"
He couldn't help the embarrassed flinch at the end of his own sentence, there.
She looked up at him bewildered, as she wriggled her little hand between them. "You do feel this, right?"
He rolled his eyes and smiled.
She frowned. So hard that it created a deep ridge between her eyebrows, making her look positively stern, and he had to chuckle, which earned him another glare, but he lowered himself back on the bed next to her, turned towards her, as she began her halting speech.
"You're my other half…" she began, the frown disappearing as she talked. "Yes, I like him, and I get him… but you get me, much more than anyone, and there is not a single soul in this universe that I … I have no words for this. You're my most important. For you I'd… I dunno. It's you. It's here." She wriggled her hand between them again, as if she expected to grasp at a rope spun between them, and he could understand, he felt it, too. He felt it always. "I'm not putting this very well… I.." she frowned again, grasping at his shirt and burrowing her hands in his button border, her knuckles brushing against his bare chest in the process.
He smiled, and raised his hands to cradle her face gently. "It's ok. I know. I don't doubt us. Ever. I was just curious."
Her shoulders slumped in relief and she smiled, and he bent down slowly towards her face, still framed by his hands, and watched her eyes flutter shut, as she pulled him toward her by his shirt, hand still burrowed in his button border.
He loved this mindful little moment, just before the kiss itself; when she had already closed her eyes, so completely trusting, letting herself fall into his hands, waiting – and he had these two, three seconds of watching her lashes brush against her cheek, her lips puckering so slightly and falling open, her breath coming short, anticipating, and he could feel the pull of her through their bond, could feel she felt his breath on her lips, could taste it, and her heart flutter with it, before he would allow his eyes to fall shut, as well, when their lips brushed against another, soft, with the barest of pressure.
He was always amazed how relaxed Usagi's face tended to be. Any other person, himself included, tended to tense up their facial muscles constantly. Lips pulled taut and rigid, turning hard, jaw set, the ridge between the eyebrows set in various stages of tension – so continuously and rigorously that it usually felt like sweet relief when letting your face go lax for a change… but Usagi…
Usagi's face was always open, relaxed, ready to be pulled from one expression to another. When Usagi's lips fell open they were pliant, movable, soft and somehow limp, even when she moved them against his. He could feel how the slightest press of his lips on hers would mold them, form them; how the barest of touches would have such an impact on a portion of her body.
He loved nothing more than her lips against his. The soft press of her lips as if sculpting her lips onto his, slow, deliberate. The way her lips would catch just one of his, then let go and capture the other, and how her teeth would sometimes brush against his lower lip when she felt he attempted to release her lips much sooner than she'd like. How the kiss was flowing, effortlessly, and how he felt her heart flutter in her chest, the bubbling pressure in her chest and throat and core that he felt through their bond, her emotions flaring up, as if they didn't know where to go, what to feel, too much, too bright, but so right.
This was one of those kisses. His lips formed hers, as if impressing the form of his lips on her mouth, and she opened up with a breathy sigh, welcoming his tongue as he snaked one arm from her face to her waist, pulling her into his lap.
She came all too willingly, tangling her hands into his hair, pulling at his roots as he deepened the kiss, as if he wanted to disappear inside of her, and maybe he did.
They sat like this for a while, roaming hands and hungry mouths, and one of his hands had slipped beneath the shirt of his that she wore, but it only was when he felt her fingers start to unbutton his shirt that he pulled away, his lips leaving hers with a loud smacking sound.
"Gnnn, please?" she pouted, hands extended as he stood up again, the first two buttons of his shirt now undone.
He chuckled, winking at her. "Maybe later?"
She grumbled, and let herself fall back on her stomach on the bed, as he went back to rummaging through his book bag and various belongings, pulling out books to stay, and notebooks to go.
She threw him a confused look. "What are you doing?"
He looked up, equally confused. "Packing?"
"What?" She sat up with a start. "Where are you going?"
He cocked his head sideways at her. They'd discussed this yesterday…"My apartment... we talked about this, I need to do laundry? Get some new clothes?"
Her face fell into a pout of enormous proportions. "Oh…"
She usually didn't get like this… for all the amount of time they spent together, she had no trouble being apart, whatsoever, would use the time apart with one of the girls, or even Naru, gloat at the opportunity to get the juicy gossip that she only got to hear when his ears weren't listening in, too. But today... he did feel it, too… There was something in the air… he didn't know what it was, but it made them both feel as if they shouldn't be away from each other today.
Which is why he was not-so-secretly very relieved, when she immediately asked, "Can I come? I mean… Chibi-Kiju's gonna be out for the day, anyway, and I… um."
"Of course!" he shot out, directly, and blushed, sheepishly. "I mean…sure. Um… didn't you need to write an essay, though?"
She rolled her eyes, in a 'duh' kind of way, and 'who's thinking about schoolwork on a Saturday, was she him?', and he chuckled, telling her to get dressed, then, he didn't have all day, these were easily three machine loads of washing ahead of him, with a cheeky grin on his lips.
She hopped off the bed and out of the room to shower, claiming she was a normal person who sweats in heat, other than him, as he finished packing up his big duffel bag that he usually used for carrying his belongings to and fro between his apartment and his home…
Maybe they really should look for an apartment for the two of them, if Ikuko allowed it? Somewhere really close by? But, no… He shook his head, decisively. Not with Chibi-Kiju around. They wouldn't leave the Tsukinos alone with her. Someday, then… Maybe he should just downsize and bring everything essential here? He really didn't have that much stuff, minimalist that he was, and then he could rent out his apartment, to save up on money when they did go apartment hunting… Hm…
She was done impressively quickly, standing on tiptoe in nothing but her underwear in front of her wardrobe to fetch between her summer dresses, which she had already put in the back of it in exchange for her autumn attire, and pulled out one he was pretty sure actually belonged to Minako. A thin, sleeveless, mint colored dress with a bow at the back of it. But he could be mistaken – they tended to share clothes all the time, the two of them. Might just be it was hers and Minako had borrowed it for an extended time. Who knew these things?
He hefted his large duffel bag across his shoulder, and they were off into the hot and incredibly humid air. Since his girlfriend was involved, though, the five minute walk to his apartment took them on a two hour detour to ice cream and the park, and they were now on their way to the Crown and Motoki to just 'say, "Hi" quickly and see how hung-over he is?', which Mamoru was sure was code for milkshake.
And possibly a deep need for air conditioning, as he worried again about the flush of her skin. She really didn't do so well in the heat.
This was where they were headed, when suddenly, completely out of nowhere, the sky broke.
Out poured water as thick as one could imagine, drenching their sweaty forms in mere seconds with thick heavy warm drops of summer rain in autumn, which felt just that tiny bit cool on exposed, slightly sunburned skin.
Usagi shrieked and they took off running, but before they had time to find shelter the damage was done. They were both drenched from top to bottom. Mamoru heaved, having run after her - she was faster than him, always, even without half his now wet wardrobe hanging from his shoulder, but caught up to her as she slowed, suddenly, to a walk.
He slowed down to a jog and came up next to her, looking at her bewildered, through the thick wall of heavy rain.
She shrugged, an amused half smile on her damp face, hair slack and wet, her fringe sticking to her face in thick wet curls. "It's kinda pleasant, don't you think?" She smiled. "We're drenched now anyway."
He blinked at her and then chuckled, running a wet hand through wet, ebony hair that had grown too long again.
It was pleasant. Warm rain on sweaty, sticky skin. A breeze that came with the storm cooling them down.
It rained heavier, and heavier, and they just stood there, letting it all come.
What could they do to change it, anyway?
He laughed, shaking his head at her, and she grinned up at him, scrunching her eyes shut a little against the raindrops that tangled in her eyelashes.
They didn't go the Crown, then, drenched as they were, but walked, hand in hand, in a leisurely pace toward his apartment through the heavy rain, while around them people hurried to get out of it, and others with umbrellas looked at them strangely.
It was inside his apartment building, stepping foot into the elevator – after he'd looked at her completely wet form, as if she'd stepped into a tub with all her clothes on, and laughed at her giggling face, that his mood turned.
The imagery, the opening sky, falling down on them, unstoppable, suddenly didn't seem a laughing matter to him anymore.
Suddenly, he felt desperate, as if this were an omen. As if the sky pouring down were a sign for all the horrors to come.
He looked at her, eyes widening, and he had a moment then, in which it felt to him as if she were disappearing, flickering away. Panic shook him for a moment, and she looked up, startled, noticing his emotions, just as he crushed her to him, wet clothes be damned, as if he had to keep her in this world like this.
His heart was thumping so loudly in his throat he could taste it, and Usagi wound trembling hands around his back.
"…Mamo-chan?"
They both felt it, then.
He saw it, like a lucid dream – blood skies and a hurricane, destroying it all. His dream. Just that he wasn't sleeping. And then a new bit in it. A golden queen, standing amongst the ruins, crying and laughing all at the same time. Like a vision – just a moment.
Was this it? Was it about to start?
Not now. They still had time. Not much.
Her eyes widened and she gripped at his arms, her fingers clawing into his bicep.
The fear lodged itself into his throat, an odd, vague sensation, as he clutched at her more tightly. As if the very Earth was calling out, seeking refuge, seeking something grounding that he just couldn't give it without her.
But much larger was the fear that gripped him, as he looked down at the crown of her head.
Please, no. Please not again. I need her. Don't take her from me.
It was the panic acting, but suddenly, he was desperate, needing. He needed to feel her, needed to make sure she was here, she was his.
He dove down, meeting her halfway, grabbing underneath her bum to lift her up, mold her against him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her drenched clothes slipping against his noisily. Her face was damp, as was her hair that wound itself around them, sticking to skin, as well as her hands that slipped into his dripping hair, grabbing at it, holding his face to hers so she could attack his lips.
It felt desperate, and it was feeding right back to her, and so she was gripping him harder, her mouth and tongue turning more demanding, and she writhed her hips and panties against his hardening front, as he ground her into the wall of the elevator like a drowning mad-man.
He had enough wits left about him to stumble out of the elevator, as it arrived on his floor, gracelessly and almost falling, but never dropping her.
He was dimly aware, as Usagi ripped her mouth from his, that she was apologizing to someone – someone must be on the floor with them, but he had no brain cells left to take notice, instead his mouth lodged onto her neck, as he pushed her against the door of his apartment.
She groaned, and slipped a hand between them, down his pants, and ugh – This time his knees nearly buckled as she came in contact with his crotch momentarily, but that wasn't her destination, her hand slipped further…
Why… why would she…? He frowned into her shoulder, licking the rain off her exposed skin.
Her hand wriggled further, he felt her growing frustrated, but couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what she wanted.
"Keys," she rasped between moans. "In your pocket. Mamo-chan. We need to – Uugnn."
Her voice gurgled, as he bit the spot right beneath her jugular, the one that made her come, sometimes, when he licked it while moving inside her. God, did he need to be inside her…
"KEYS, Mamo-chan," she yelped, eyes rolling back into her head, as he ground himself against her crotch.
Right. Still outside.
He fumbled for his keys blindly, missing his pocket, mouth at her throat, licking a path to her cleavage…
He managed at the third try, and equally blindly thrust the damn thing at the door – miraculously it opened, and they stumbled in.
He didn't bother with his shoes – in fact he forgot about them completely, and instead just carried her straight towards the bedroom on shaky legs, almost falling, losing his balance, as she pushed his heavy bag from his shoulder and it landed with a loud, wet thud on the plushy carpet.
He laid her, wet dress, wet hair, shoes and all, onto his bed, and started to peel off her wet clothes frantically – his mouth following his hands, determined to drink every last drop of rain from her skin himself.
He immersed himself in her wildly beating heart, the flush of her skin, the ragged breathing marking her arousal, the way her legs clenched together slightly as she became wetter and wetter, how she ground herself into him, clawing her fingers into his damp skin, feeling into her needs and urges – bringing his lips wherever she craved it most.
As deeply inside her emotions as he was, he hadn't noticed at all how she had managed, but in moments he was almost as naked as her, his drenched and wet dress shirt hanging open, buttons everywhere, pants pooled around his ankles, stopped by the shoes he still wore. He kicked them off, the pants alongside, and kneaded his hands into the soft, damp skin of her hips, as he buried his tongue between her slick, slick folds.
The cry that exploded from her lips elicited repeated loud banging against the wall, from the apartment right next to his.
He didn't care. He'd make this last for the rest of the bloody day. Draw it out as long as he possibly could.
It was utterly insane, he knew it was, but somewhere in the back of this mind was this voice that told him … Whatever danger had been lurking for them, whatever these months had been leading up to, it was starting, right now.
This might be the last he had of her.
L
Tomoe walked slowly to the window in the dark confines of his bedroom, and looked out into the shadows and creeks that night turned his backyard into. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the cat, its paws clawing into the tree. He drew the curtains shut with a sigh, and slowly started stripping out of his clothes, his fingers working the buttons of his white shirt quickly.
Alone. Finally.
He breathed a relieved sigh. He was tired, so tired of it all.
"Because you primitive, disgusting little rodents have no power of endurance."
Well, as alone as he would ever be again, he thought, sighing even more, as he opened the buckle of his belt and slipped it off.
This was why he nearly, very nearly, shrieked and jumped, as another voice joined the chorus in his head.
"Go on, take all of it off. Let me see you."
For a second he thought this was it. He was schizophrenic after all. He was mad.
Before he turned. Whirled around, his open, white shirt flying about him.
In the armchair in the corner by his room, only lit by the soft yellow, dimmed light that came from behind him, sat a woman. Clad in nothing but a white shift, long golden hair that cascaded down in waves, becoming darker and darker at the tips. Gold. Sand. Copper.
The look in her eyes so piercing, superior, demanding.
His heart beat wildly. Had they discovered him after all? Who was this?
For once Germatoid was silent, as well. Taken by surprise, just as he.
"It's very intriguing, your little experiment," she said. Her voice was like honey, but edged. "And you. I've never met anyone like you. We are alike."
He blinked. Who was this?
It wasn't his mind that solved the puzzle, of course. Even he admitted that his human mind was limited. Not psychic like Germatoid's, who recognized the darkness in the woman immediately. Like a twin, recognizing its equal.
Souichi Tomoe frowned, narrowed his eyes at the woman sitting half naked in his bedroom.
"You carry Chaos in you, too."
She laughed. It sounded malevolent, sneering.
"Chaos," she repeated, a soft smirk around her lips. "I like that term."
She got up slowly, rising with the elegance and air of royalty. He stood rooted to the spot as she walked around him, looking him up and down.
He drew a quick breath as her cold hand touched the warm, naked skin of his chest, and she raked her nails across it, just barely.
"'Carry it', you say… It doesn't consume you, either, does it?" she said, a gleam in her eye, and wonder in her tone. "We are alike. I wouldn't have thought it possible. In a mere human no less."
Then she pushed him, without moving her hand. Like a wave of energy that pummeled into him, pressing all the air from his lungs as he fell, flew, plummeted to the opposite wall of his bedroom.
He pressed his eyes shut in reflex, but the impact never came. He opened them, blinking.
With a flick of her wrist the woman held him hovering in the air. A glare, authoritative, in her eyes.
"But you have no power. None. You are weak."
She spoke the last word with a sneer, like a curse, stressing the consonant with force.
"You are a puppet," she whispered, inclining her head ,as she lowered him, slowly, with a soft wave of her hand, her voice adopting a strangely seductive tone that ran a shiver down his spine.
His gaze hardened. He blocked out Germatoid's leer of approval.
"What do you want?"
The quiver in his voice frustrated him endlessly. Especially because it made her smirk only widen, as she lowered her chin to her chest.
With another flick of her wrist, he was petrified. He stood stock still, couldn't move a muscle, not even breathe, as she moved around him once again, mustering him.
She brought her lips to the shell of her ear, leaning up only slightly. He felt her breath running down his neck.
"The same as you, it appears."
He would have frowned, if he could have moved any muscle in his body. Which goal did she mean? The one he followed for the Death Busters, the destruction and terra-forming of this planet, bringing Chaos to Earth – or destroying Chaos, ultimately.
She cocked her head.
"The latter," she said.
His eyes – the only thing able to move in him, currently, whipped to hers. Mindreading?
She sighed, and flicked her wrist again. He collapsed in a heap on the floor, clutching his chest as he heaved, deeply, gulping in air.
"But you seem to know as well as I that for that, destruction is inevitable," she said, as she sat back down, lowering herself back down in the shaded armchair he had found her in.
"It is intriguing to see, that you had the same idea as I. Combining Chaos and Senshi power in order to control it, and destroy it. But you're not thinking far enough, little puppet," she whispered.
He frowned, and closed his eyes, confused, thinking, for just a blink of a moment.
When he opened them back up the armchair was empty.
L
AN: If you wanna hear some creepy music for that Tomoe/Galaxia scene, I wrote it while listening to the following two songs: 'The Turing Test' by Ben Salisbury, and 'Fresh Blood' by Kyle Dixon. ;)
LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK, PLEASE?!