-*- Adults only here. Seriously. Warning. Notes proper at the end this time; I don't want to ruin things or colour expectations. -*-
- She. Knows. What. You. Are. -
Perhaps I lost my mind days ago, and was left too broken to realize, or perhaps the phantom had left my psyche permanently damaged in some other, subtler sense.
Maybe none of this is happening. This must be the hell that I deserve.
Kilara had been momentarily stunned, but her darting eyes told me that she'd run the moment she felt steady. The girl was terrified. She was, and the situation was far too painfully, glaringly real to be anything but happening.
"Don't," I forced myself to step back, giving her some space. "You don't have to worry about the...about anything I said or may have implied. Kilara, you don't have to accept...me. You could decide to leave right now; I don't want you to, but you could, and I'd still be happier knowing you had the proper tools for protecting yourself. I would. Be happy," the words, more than just the sounds themselves, surprised me. I am not one to speak without thorough calculation, and though I seldom outright lie, I never would have allowed myself such honesty. Especially not when I believed it wouldn't help.
My breathing was erratic, and I could feel the rapid pulse across my temples, especially loud within the stifling room. Sweat began pooling in my gloves, and the dark humor of that previous thought - the need to remove them - it stung; doing so offered nothing to help regulate my temperature. It was so warm, could that explain why my eyes began to...perspire?
Not even I believe the excuse. Not that I didn't want to.
My head ached, tinnitus rang loudly in my ears; it was impossible think, let alone think clearly.
I do not want her to see me like this...weak...
I couldn't read Kilara's expression, only that it shifted; there was now a hardness in her eyes. She must have reached a decision.
No..please...
I threw everything, every shred of energy remaining, into keeping my composure. 'SOLDIERs do not cry, they do not feel! Not when anyone could be the enemy who betrays us!' Hojo's lectures echoed, invading my thoughts and daring me to claim objection. I might have tried to argue with the memory, but something outside, in the room and in the present, commanded my attention.
Kilara was moving, slowly, and doing something that was not fleeing in disgust or fear. She wasn't leaving, wasn't running away, nor anything else I worried that she might. No, Kilara was stepping towards me, albeit cautiously. I watched her pull something from one of the pouches on her belt, half expecting a dagger in my throat.
But the flash that followed was not the glint of light on steel, and the object was far too small to be a weapon. I hadn't even moved to block.
Kilara didn't say a word, just stopped in front of the heap into which I'd crumpled, motionless and staring down the item in her hands. Her eyes remained cold, but the tension in her jaw betrayed a struggle to maintain the icy mask.
At least, I tried to hope that's what it meant.
I watched, confused by every aspect of Kilara's body language.
She hasn't answered, that doesn't mean no, or yes...or no or yes... She hasn't left yet.
Truly not meaning to be coercive, afraid to speak for fear I might, and doubting my sanity would survive outright rejection, I listened. It was all I had left to try. I know how crazy I must have sounded, I did. I'd felt less sane only once before, and even then the girl had stayed.
But I also knew that I still needed her, somehow. I wanted her, beyond base physical attraction, and in a way that was painful beyond what I thought possible for the mind to conjure. The woman was my own personal goddess, sent to save me, wasn't she? How else to even begin describing what had happened? Or why she'd even bothered to come back, or help, or believe in me.
Or let me almost kill her...or...
I didn't even want to think about what my hands had done, and true to form, she made it so I didn't have to.
Kilara whispered, eyes locked to a spot between us on the ground, "She had the gift..the curse...too, that's why I didn't chase her off. I tell this to myself...heh." I had understood the words, but had no idea what could be the meaning. I could not grasp the relevance, but talking was not fleeing. My head refused to lift, but I could listen - not an impressive feat to most, but that I could was something to grasp onto. Next, I would try to breathe again.
"I thought I could help, but hers was diff-er-ent than mine," her accent thickened once again. "I can see how some things are, some-of-times, but she...she always knew of things to come, things she had no business knowing or how they would work out. Things a little kid should not have had to be thinking always or about." Kilara's voice caught in her throat, continuing so softly that I had to strain to catch the words. They still didn't make much sense.
"I was going to buy one, once. A real weapon, my own proper piece of steel-and-sword," the slightest hint of a smile passed and faded quickly. "Finally I'd saved the money - all of it. But it was something like her birthday anniversary that same time. She said this was something from a dream, and that I had to get it made into something that was real. Said, not just for her, but for us both. Emile - she begged, and how could I not? ...heh... She'd turned - umm - it was ten, we think. An age to celebrate, for ones who came from places like we did. And it was a beautiful thing, the sketch she'd made. This thing. I think...she thought...please-Iamsorry, it is hard to keeping track sometimes..."
"I..." I shut up. I couldn't even be sure Kilara was really speaking to me, though she didn't seem to have lost herself again, at least not like she had before. Not yet, anyway.
And I had no idea what I was supposed to say, let alone the ability to do so with any eloquence. Whatever was happening, though, I didn't like it - neither the "far-away-ness" nor the idea that I might be the cause.
It made no sense, but there seemed to be a correlation. Still, there's no chance the girl could've survived this long if her thoughts were constantly pulling elsewhere.
That, and it hurt, somehow, to hear this kind of sadness, though I didn't fully grasp my own feelings or why any of it mattered now. I wasn't permitted to have those often...feelings. And who's to say I even had, or properly recognized them anyway?
Emile? That was the child, it did not survive their encounter with the creatures...
Kilara must have been working through an attack of feeling or emotion, I realized. Yet, she was also starting to look better - calmer, in a sense. But that distant, remote look still troubled me. Never had I found the description to be so accurate. And now that my own focus was returning, slowly, again I wished to shake the girl and snap her back into the present! But, that, and probably anything I might do, could make things worse.
The thought of her injured, again...by some force I cannot see - fuck! Those bruises had been awful. I'd had no recourse.
It was an interesting take on fear, not that I was afraid of anything. Maybe for, but certainly not of. And that wasn't going to happen this time, I would find a way to stop it if it did.
In either case, I found grounding in the analysis. This was good.
What is that other place? Could I see into it somehow? Am I a part of this world you're in, Kilara? Can you hear, or see me? Come back?
Of course, Kilara did not "hear" I'm sure, but her eyes flicked up for a split second, as if to confirm that she was, indeed, speaking to me. Her eyes weren't as lost or cold as I'd initially presumed; there was an intensity similar to what had drawn me to her in the first place. Kilara was not going to leave or run away. Better, she was still here.
But why?
And still a puzzle.
I was given nothing but a continuation of her monologue in answer.
"So I had it - the thing Emile dreamed and drew - I had it made into a something she could hold and feel, of course," Kilara forced a laugh, swallowing, "I commissioned for this thing the best artist I could afford with the whole sword-savings, and some extra I had saved just-in-case. It is a beautiful piece..." she sighed.
"This, and then she said it wasn't really for her, but that she'd be happy holding on to borrow, until sometime. I think she knew...hnngh..."
That sound - physical pain? Should I try to do something? How does one apply … apply what?
Was I even capable of providing comfort to another? I had no idea how to protect her from ghosts or memories, but felt this pull, an almost need to try.
Something?
I had not the faintest clue of what to do. How did people train for situations such as this? There was no blood, no wound I could just stitch or spellcast away. Everything I'd worked for - strength, power - it was hollow, seemed meaningless now.
Fine! I admit it, I'm helpless. I do not understand, I don't even know I'm not the cause...just tell me how to help, or stop, or fix… I can't...can I? I don't know how. Would I be capable, even if i did?
No answers magically surfaced before Kilara took a seat beside me, toppled as I was - still crumpled on the floor and emptied by further realizations.
It was an embarrassing situation, or would have been if I'd any pride left at that precise moment.
"The story, it is not much interesting against yours, I think, but it is the one I had to offer. And this, this thing is not so priceless, but it is the thing that I would trade, if you are so insisting, and are willing to accept." Subdued, but here, Kilara settled in beside me; we were now eye-level, or very close, due to my position on the floor.
"Accept? Trade?" Why would she think that necessary? "No, you don't need to give-" The girl's look of desperation mirrored almost exactly what I'd felt.
But why?
"This is not the need, it is the would. I do not not believe you, but this," she tapped a finger to her head, "thinks, you will see it when you see. If you wish to...for… Well let us start with seeing, yes?"
I examined the pendent in Kilara's outstretched hand: two metallic wings - one dark, almost black, and one white, or maybe something close to gray. They folded over and around each other, the mismatch in both size and material enhanced, rather than detracted from, the overall design. There were small stones, one green with just a hint of blue, embedded in the darker side, and a light purple jewel in the other. Even from a generously kind or desperate artist, this piece would have cost no small amount. The detailing was exquisite, especially for the pendent's size, not to mention the materials.
Tourmaline and amethyst...
Not the most rare or expensive gems on their own, but I saw something priceless. It felt like something more, though I could not tell you how.
Do you believe in fate?
A question she had asked me, straining against that evil force and vying to keep my focus. Had this been what she meant?
How could this be anything but, I wondered, marveling at the coincidence, or more the implications of the piece's origins.
My own eyes, unlike most SOLDIER, are a darker hue than the sky blue usually associated with mako, and almost green in most lights. Jade...jaded was the joke, I'd heard, but this was no time to sulk about the past.
This is not jade though. Green tourmaline, yes, and amethyst...not quite purple, but lavender. They match our eyes, but how? Eyes?...eyes...
Kilara was waiting, I like to think, but it doesn't matter. She was there when I finally willed my own vision up, away from the floor. Satisfied, I believe.
"I'm not just giving to you this as only trade, or because I feel obligated or for any debt. You said a kind of promise, and I am holding you to that, Mister FriendSephiroth." Kilara decided to attach the necklace to me, leaning in so close that I could feel the smile in her cheek when it brushed against my shoulder.
Is she the strange one, or am I? Or both of us?
This gesture was not expected, not unwelcome, certainly, but not what I'd expected. The necklace had to have been clasped or tied by now, but Kilara hadn't moved away; I felt her playing lightly in my hair and sighed, content.
I also felt a tempest just below my chest, raging, rising, churning thoughts..feelings...a stormflood straining against my self control; and felt terrified of what I would do to her if it broke free.
Is she shaking, or am I? Does she know what this is doing to me? Gaia, it's so hard to not...
In fact, it was impossible to not.
My hands were first to test, tracing the slight curve of her hip while the other meandered up and down her back; every movement fest so natural. When I pulled our bodies closer, Kilara offered no resistance, allowing me to cradle her head, to angle her neck just so. Gaia...her neck - it was right there! But I knew I could not trust myself.
And her cheek was even closer; it was safe, and so soft and smooth and then she made a little noise and writhed while I traced the contours of her jaw, working toward her lips with my own.
I need to stop. We need to breathe. I need to know - fuck! What if this isn't; what if I'm doing something wrong? None of this feels wrong, but...
Uncertainty and guilt, all worsened by the sheer force of how badly I wanted more. I felt as if my body itself might burst, would rip apart unless I held her closer, and so much more tightly. It wasn't just a desire to touch and feel, but to squeeze, and to crush her body into mine, merging us together into one complete and perfect being!
*breathe*
The idea, the phrasing and imagery my subconscious chose was unsettling, but it was fleeting notion, and quickly replaced by other, much more tangible impressions. My head was swimming, brimming with a carnal creativity, but still thankful for the pause, forced by our collective need of oxygen. Kilara's heart was racing; I had her now, close enough to feel the pulse echoing deep within her chest. But it was her eyes, always it would seem, that drew my focus home: pupils so dilated by need and tension they were almost fully rounded.
That, and fuck, she's so, unbelievably soft, and kept fondling my hair. It all did these things to me. Things I didn't want to stop.
And I know I should've asked or said...something. But I didn't.
No, I seized Kilara's head and shoved my tongue deep into her mouth, sparsely coherent words tumbling out between moans - or, perhaps some manlier version of the sound, all the while praying I wouldn't move too fast, grip too tightly...wouldn't break her into pieces with my terrible, deadly strength.
"Fuck, I..." I know. I hadn't forgotten details that I'd learned, or deduced, or even guessed about the girl.
But...
The important thing is that I would have stopped, if she'd given any indication that I should. Kilara's legs wrapping themselves around my waist didn't seem, to me, anything like a sign to stop. And her hips - her whole body - moved with this excruciating, slow, achingly fantastic rhythm against what had become a very, incredibly sensitive region of my own.
"I want this..."
Human or not, on some level, I am only a man.
Somehow, admitting it was freeing. I could reign myself in, let her decide what 'this' would mean, or try to. But not here, not on this floor when better options were mere steps away. I could figure out a plan, one where I - maybe - wouldn't damage Kilara further or irreparably. That's the last thing, beyond the last thing I could ever wish.
And there was so, so much more I wanted now.
That plan could wait. I didn't want to lose this, any of it: the path from Kilara's mouth, down to her neck, each line sharp and with its own sweet taste. Why hadn't I ever felt such intensity before?
I'd gone out, I'd picked up women…
I wasn't lacking in experience.
It didn't matter - why was I even thinking of other...of anything else!?
No.
Pushing them away was easier, they were just normal memories and thoughts and didn't try to invade my entire being.
Back then you didn't know, you didn't remember what- No.
This was not a test. The tests were gone, over. And I'm fucking thrilled he'd failed at making more, or at whatever the point had been.
And there would be no way in all of Gaia or the universe that I'd let that bastard poison this!
Maybe Kilara agreed, or maybe it was coincidence, but she chose the perfect time to recapture my attention.
Overrode all but the most basic functions of my brain might be a better way to phrase what happened next.
"FUC-NOOH ohfuck, K-!" Every muscle, every nerve, every. thing. stopped. It took everything I had to stave off what was coming. Or maybe I didn't.
It had been a very long time. But, I couldn't let things end there, not on that note, not yet.
In either case, the pace would need to change.
"Mmm, do you know" my voice was thick, lusty - of course I used it to it's full advantage, nipping here and there with minute doses of what she'd just done to me. My weakness goes both ways. "What that does to me, Kilara?" Just to punctuate the point, I put one arm around her hips, lifting and moving us towards my bedroom. "Please," I needed her to look at me, to see how difficult was to hold back so much want.
Kilara stared straight into my eyes, "You don't need to be holding back so much."
How was I supposed to...?
Did that mean...?
Fuck!
"This is mine now." Her neck was mine, starting with that diamond just between her collarbones; this time I allowed myself some freedom. I had to, this game was getting dangerous; I had to show her. I couldn't trust myself.
I had to hold back. I am tall, strong even for a SOLDIER, and she was so petite. I feared I would break something with the force of my passion, even though she was strong, wasn't brittle in any sense.
— Self control is much more fragile —
I'd managed to remove it all one-handed, save my pants, between kicking closed the door and laying Kilara on the bed as gently as my current state allowed. This felt so right, but guilt lurked behind the feeling, threatening. The memory of my hands on her neck..the blood..she hadn't screamed, hadn't fought then either.
"I...can stop." Just let me kiss you one time...
"If you don't want..." Here, and here...
"Please you have to tell me..." I would stop, I could, but only if she told me to. Maybe I couldn't, but promised I would if she'd just say it; how could she see me as...as anything but what those visions, and the things that happened, proved I was?
Kilara ran her hands roughly through my hair, wrapping her fingers in the overlong strands...pulling me down, closer. "Se-fea-rothe, I do not wish to stop."
Thank Gaia for button-up shirts!. I forced myself, savouring the agony, to go slowly, to cherish every moment, fearing something would come to take it away. Each button undone revealed a little rectangle of beautiful, pale, almost otherworldly flesh, and Kilara writhed, moaning softly as I graced each new shape with soft attentive lips. I'd worked my way down, taking the bra she didn't really need along the way.
"Wait, wedon'tneed-" Kilara spoke as quickly as her arms hugged around her waist, covering what I'd just exposed. Her body moved reflexively, as if to curl into a ball.
I'd known they were there, the scars. I'd seen them when healing her...but when I saw them all...again.
"I'm sorry..." When I heard the fear in her apology - an apology that wasn't hers to give - everything went red!
I will fucking skin him alive! Kill him so fucking slowly...
I knew the ploy - the incisions made with surgical precision, some with 'scientific' purpose, some for no reason but sickness of a demented, deranged mind. All were easily fixed, sans scarring, with simple, and I knew plentiful to him, materia. I could hear he sneering lines, "Maybe next time you'll cooperate, and we won't have to leave you this reminder. I'm making you look this way to make you stronger; you don't need the distraction of others. They'll fear you, and with good reason, my perfect killer. This..this will be a warning flag, maybe this time enough to keep those dumb broads away." The speech to Kilara could only have been worse, though not much different.
I shifted, lying on my side beside her, "It's not your fault." Testing, I placed a hand over hers and tried to move them; the resistance to my pull was weak, but enough that I didn't want to push her farther. I could feel Kilara's body trembling, and she kept her head turned away. I should've stopped.
But, I'd asked...but...
And then I'd felt so angry!
"Are you afraid," I asked, "of me? I didn't mean to-"
Kilara finally turned, her hands wrapping the one I'd left in place. "No, not afraid of you. Afraid for you see and...and...they're repulsive. I'm not - I'm- " The words wouldn't come to her, but they didn't need to. She was wrong. How dare, on top of everything else, how dare he make her think anything like that could be her fault!
"You're beautiful," I finished simply, not wanting to betray how dark my thoughts had almost grown or stayed.
She softened, allowing my embrace, my kisses, and showings of sincerity, all the while combing through hair. This relaxed us both, and I shelved my anger, praying for the chance to enact vengeance - but another day. This would not be tainted!
Then it was as if we'd never stopped.
Yes, I was delighted restart my journey down her curves, though perhaps a little faster this time. I was enjoying holding back, reveling, rejoicing slowly in every new sensation, but still taking my time of course. I'm thankful that I took my time, even as I reached the buttons on Kilara's trousers, "Is this okay?"
"I- yes."
She paused, why? Should I-
"You can tell me to stop. I will."
I will try...
I hadn't yet, but put my face to hers - my eyes on hers - and watched, sliding a hand beneath the damp cloth that tried in vain to block my way.
"Sephi," Kilara inhaled my name, or a part, the rest lost into to most luring, siren's song of moans that left not room for doubt. Whatever I had feared was wrong, had to have been wrong. Worry, uncertainty - it all melted even further away than I thought possible.
I was touching her in earnest now, battling against myself to hang onto some thread of control, but losing ground each time Kilara's body arced, enraptured. Closer. Each time she pulled my face to hers, fingernails just sharp enough to tread the line between pleasure and exquisite pain.
Everything melted away; everything but us.
I felt alive, amazed by the reactions one could coerce with just a hand. Eventually a mouth.
Words devolved to sounds, sounds gave way to breathless pants; I abandoned any thoughts of stopping. I could have this. She was mine.
But. But I couldn't move us forward.
Kilara's tension was apparent, squeezing, wrapped around my digits. She was so warm, so soft. So perfect. So innocent.
"I don't want to hurt you," Her neck was sweet. I could feel her pulse, her life, thrumming just below the surface, but Kilara's lips were even sweeter - stolen while tensions of my own urged deeper and brought them to a gasp.
My remaining clothes had disappeared. We'd shifted so that I held Kilara in one arm, using the other to support my weight above.
"If we," my body nestled between her legs, waiting, testing - trying so hard to not take. Her body shivered at my whispers, "if you're not relaxed, I could..."
I could hurt you. I don't wan to.
I didn't want to open my eyes, to see disgust or fear on that ethereal, lovely face. This meant I couldn't see the look that wasn't those, that drew her hands down along my sides. I could only guess what made Kilara wrap herself around me, inviting.
"If slow," she panted, seeking to draw me into another kiss, "you won't. I want."
Want - that word was all I needed.
Slow.
Slowly the resistance faded. We began to fall into a rhythm.
Slow.
I had to focus on my breathing - everything felt heightened; it was difficult to concentrate. Even still, the pleasure, the feelings, were almost overwhelming.
Slowly.
Deepened kisses led to deepened movements, then greater struggles. So close, but was I closer? I wanted to feel her at that moment.
Faster now, not too much.
"Se-a-ah! I can't," Kilara struggled to form words with what air short, rapid breaths allowed, "is so. so much. sensation!"
More. Faster.
Kilara teetered on the edge, "You can," I focused on our bodies - on hers. "It's okay..."
"I can't-can-OH, fu- .imi ci'irpa'i!" She plunged over the edge, howling in that language I didn't understand.
Or maybe not, it was hard to tell syllables apart; the squeezing, holding grip of her body wrapped and tangled around my own carried me down with her.
"Kil-OH-I-fuckIlo.."
Electricity and chills flowed up and down our bodies as they worked, synchronized as one. My last coherent thought was pivot, rolling so that Kilara collapsed, exhausted, on my chest. I didn't want to let her go just yet, not when I felt so...complete again. Not with that missing piece of something no longer acting as a vacuum deep inside of me.
And, of course, I also want to squash her.
What I did want...
There were many things I wanted to say, but "Stay with me." - that was the only one I managed. It was enough.
I might have wanted to say "I need you" or "you complete me, in a literal sense" or maybe even "I would die if you left now" - but those words all sound cheap and overused. One could hear them ten times a night at any movie theater, or in any book.
As for the other ones...
- What if I can't...correctly? -
A/N: Finally, right? This one I'm glad I re-wrote, I truly am. It's still a bit self-indulgent, but isn't that the point? I think I can shoot for "quarterly" and maybe stick to that, but (as always) there are no promises...for all three to five of y'all. Heh.
She had been a virgin, at least as far as anyone could tell, initially. I wanted to make that less tentative in the proper story though.
Beyond that, just working to make it read a a bit less like something trashy in the bargain bin. A little trashy's still okay, though.
That shit's difficult to write.