Hello my dear people! How're you all?
Here Misty comes with a blast. This fic is very special for me because it's my 100th work in this site as well as my 10th RayXSalima. Once again, I've come here to make you gasp and shiver with the melancholy, sinfulness, forbidden-ness of this hell, this black couple. (No matter how black they are, after all, RaySal is the kohl that mesmerizes the eyes of this Misty *Proudly smiles*). So, here it remains!
This work, just like "On the dance floor", "Ame No Yoake" and "Moonbow", of course, silent. No dialogue has been exchanged here between the characters. No thought of any character has been quoted here. The lyrics inserted in this story aren't owned by me, Rabindranath Tagore is their rightful owner *Bows head in respect* (Oh Sir, how many KaiHil and RaySal materials did you write? Simply amazing they are! *_* *_*)
This story contains a twist in the end. Be prepared for it and read at your own risk.
Warning: An unexpected thing and slight intimate things :P
Dedicated to: I, me and myself. (Because Misty loves me and I love Misty :P)
Anyways, enjoy! :D
Another note: The reader who'll review this one-shot first, I'll personally dedicate a one-shot to him/her, written of his/her favorite Beyblade couple. So, go on!
His long, lush, silky ebony hair got dissolved with the starless, moonless, ink-smeared monsoon night of Japan. If the hair wrap hadn't been present to hold his tresses tied, he would surely have been mistaken as bald-such unbelievable depth and darkness the night had. Quarrelling with the bunches of rainclouds, where the stars disappeared, it couldn't be known. Maybe, the moon desperately followed them too. That's why, no ray was present there to enlighten the murky aura…no, a mistake it was. Ray could surely be seen there though it was quite tough to be guessed whether he was there for illuminating the environment or to increase the thickness of the dark. To clouds, he was Ray. To the earth, he was shadow.
Maybe, both were true.
However, he didn't go to intervene the complex debate regarding light and shadow. Propping his back against his mechanical, two-wheeled black horse, he kept his eyes closed and let his fingers drum the silver strings of his classical ebony guitar. Hearing the permutations and combinations of seven tunes emanating from the abode of his heart, traversing through the narrow lanes of the metal chords, crossing the secluded area of the ligneous instrument, the clouds gathered above the head of the raven-haired guitarist. They were so desperate and restless to hear them that they didn't realize how and when they collided with one another. They weren't so pleased with the fact. Consequently, tearing their vocal cords, shivering roars came out.
They were only drums of his band. Thus, his reckless fingers showed no sign to stop.
A much-needed phenomenon it was; specially for mother earth. The clouds rumbled again; he was deaf to them. Bolts of lightning danced, hoping that they would be able to dazzle his eyes. No, he was blind to them too. In a metrical way, needle-like raindrops descended from heaven from the darkened, dimmed eyes of the blue as she whimpered. Nope. Neither his skin was affected, nor was his heart bothered. Losing all sensations, sacrificing every emotion, not caring what was happening around him, like an ascetic, indifferent to the world, he was playing that musical instrument on the rhythm of his own heartbeats. The abrupt downpour drenched his body but couldn't remove the ever-lasting, expected, chronic thirst of his heart.
My lamp blew off while plodding alone.
Gale has picked up, O dear; I get the storm my companion.
Destroyer at the corner of the sky
It sniggered every so often,
Plays chaos in my crazy robes and locks.
Puzzled, I fail to follow the path I was moving along,
I'll have to search my path afresh in the darkness.
Rumbling thunders might give a crack on new course,
The world, which should see the night through.
All the efforts and barriers made by his auditory and optic nerves were crushed within no moments, by his own olfactory sensors when the smell of burning sandalwood set fire into his nostrils. His ears twitched at the clear footsteps, surpassing the heart-wrenching cries of the continuous rainstorm. His fingers halted, so did the seven tunes, ceasing to mesmerize the aura. Very fatigued, he let his eyes see the atmosphere. Through the rain, she was coming towards him. Yes, only towards him, dressed in a single-strapped, sleeveless black net gown. Thick, scarlet hair was tied into a messy bun, tresses hiding her forehead. With matched black diamond earrings, her bangs caught a black rose over her right ear. She was mysterious, she was sensational-just like the night.
Otherwise, who would dare put the red blood of love in the ink of disgraced, forbidden love? It was his turn to be mesmerized.
Keeping the guitar on the bike, the neko-jin walked towards her. Travelling through her curves, her dressup, her hair, his gazes stop to take a rest at her deep onyx orbs. After it, they forgot to move from that, feeling as if those ebonies had been his eternal address, his tombstone, his heaven, his hell-yet, not the world. Their tryst didn't belong to this material world. Either it was quite higher, or was it much lower. But…why were his tombstones looking so dry that day? Did rain forget to drench them? How careless could it be? Ray cursed the downpour; the thirst hidden in her paradoxical eyes caused his heart to bleed. Instead of shivering, he started sweating-though it couldn't be understood, thanks to the shameless thunderstorm.
There is thirst in my eyes,
Extreme thirst pervades my core
I am a rainless summer day,
With a scorching soul.
Storms rise from sultry winds,
Taking my mind to the distant void—
My hair flutters away.
The blooms that lit up the garden
Wilted turning dark.
Who fettered the fountain's flow—
It's tied to the ruthless rock
At the summit of woe.
When there was only a centimeter of distance between the completely drenched bumblebee and the arid red rose, the former fastened the slender waist of the latter in one of his beefy arms and pulled her closer. Did she shiver? Maybe, because it was a while since he'd touched her. Her nose rested against his. Despite his sudden action, she didn't become nervous a bit. Her thirsty onyx orbs quenched the honey from the tavern of his shimmering golden orbs as fire was put in his beryl pupils, fuelled by the coal of her peaceful, yet, restless ogles. Subconsciously, one of her palms found its way on his left broad shoulder. The rest of their respective hands discovered themselves intertwining each other, with much passion, with much zeal. She mildly kicked at his toes, signalling him of something.
Getting the hint, he led the dance. The rainclouds envied the streams of kohl ravishing…no no, getting ravished around her eyes. That's why, like killjoys, they sent their arrows of rain, only in order to wash them. They miserably failed, the kohl dissolved on the fair cheeks of the redhead. In his color, she colored herself. The bleeding of his heart increased as he adopted her shades too. Their feet splashed the puddles, water sprinkled in 360-degree angle. Whether their hearts listen to their ankles or their ankles offered themselves to their hearts, could it ever be guessed? They moved in a criss-cross way, curving their legs and retreated. Sometimes, she was taking the charge of attacking and he was defending. Sometimes, he decided to be furious, attempting to shove her.
They were dancing on a bridge, a narrow, yet, deep brook flowing beneath it. The bridge was shaking in awe, watching the couple dance on it. The clouds shuddered more, colorless, neutral heaven met liquid, black crystal paradise streaming across the chest of the evergreen earth.
Deeply overcast is the sky of downpour, dark is the night.
How would a weak-souled lady venture on the bush-laden path.
Crazy winds swelling up the black, disgraced river,
Thunder squeals every now and then,
Bursts of lightning, uprooted trees lay on the road,
Body shivers again and again.
Patter-patter, patter-patter spray drops of rain.
Deep, dark and lonely woods make the walkway perplex.
In the cadence of wild dance, she wrapped one of her legs around his waist and leaned towards him, her other leg formed a 60-degree angle with the rain-gushed ground. His neck was swathed in the garland of her arms, her midriff wore the belt of his sturdy biceps. At a chance, he took out the black wooden hairpin, freeing her lush red hair from its dungeon. He clasped the black rose as its petals, one by one, got torn and landed on the ground, very carefully, so that the world couldn't wake up because of their disturbance. She also didn't want to lag behind. Her fingers tore the wrap binding the black strands of the neko-jin. They both unfolded each other, in front of the world, not caring.
The burning sandalwood smell neared his nostrils, blazing them again. Her olfactory nerves were only soothed, touched by the cologne of rain-drenched, blue lotuses, emitted from his body. Absorbing from, absorbed in the fragrance of each other, they brought their mouths near. For the first time at that night, Ray shivered as Salima's hands found their entry in his shirt, caressing his collarbones and the lines of his mesomorphic thorax, down the lane of his well-built jaw and Adam's apple. Her soft mounds of flesh under her gown, yet, letting her cocktail glass cleavage be visible through her neckline, fondled by his chest, raised a pulsation in his heart. This time, no bone of his hard, toned trunk could obstruct them.
Seduced enough the bumblebee was, enchanted by the full youth of the red rose which wasn't arid anymore. They closed their eyes, breathing from the lungs of each other. The rain tasted sour to their taste buds; they needed to replace the taste either by sweetness or by something spicy. They didn't know which resided in which. Yet, they decided to proceed with their lips. In every flowing moment, bit by bit, two pairs of lips were approaching each other. Soon, they could touch each other, very soon. The gap between them tended to almost zero. Their breaths caressed their chins and cheeks, warmer, warmer, and warmer…
Tell me dear, in this catastrophe why he should bother.
Play his guitar crying so loud for her
Adorn Her in jewel-studded robes,
Jasmines-garlands on Her tresses.
Darkest of nights, dear girl, do not set out for the young guy!
Intermittent squeals of thunder, fearsome,
Says the night, your servant.
The fear of the neko-jin came true. Their lips couldn't touch each other. Before only a second of it, she started vanishing. No no, not so fast. Very slowly, very gently, she was dissolving, losing herself in the darkness. Gasping, Ray stretched a hand but couldn't stop her from mixing her existence to the vanity of the darkness. In front of his horrified eyes, she remained no more. Closing his eyes and biting his lips, Ray tiredly leaned his back against his bike. The clouds moved away, the sky became much peaceful after mourning for a long time. The neko-jin didn't blame it. It needed some rest, maybe just like the redhead.
Yet, his heart knew that rain could come again in the monsoon, very soon. Not the scarlet rose.
How would she? On the same day, before three years, she'd jumped from the bridge into the bottomless tributary, ending her life. Her only guilt had been to love the neko-jin immensely, endlessly. Ray had begged to her again and again, not to do so. He'd even stood before her, expanding his arms so that she could shove him but no, she hadn't done so. Maybe, to her, her own life had seemed cheaper than his. Thus, she'd lost herself in the black, disgraced water of the brook, trying to wash her own disgrace with it and making it blacker.
But love never dies.
That's why, he kept returning to her, on her death anniversaries. Together, they used to cherish their love. Taking it as the only solace of his heart, the neko-jin smiled. The rain had already stopped. Otherwise, the droplets clinging to his cheeks could easily have been introduced as the boon of the rain.
He remained there alone, with a scarred, injured, baffled heart, carrying an immense amount of thirst which could never be quenched in this life.
He knew that she would destroy him one day if he kept continuing it. Then again, he wanted to be destroyed.
When the birds retreat to their nests,
As the shadows of day-end extend,
When the bells of evening venerations ring,
My life's last flame shall glow; my worship of sorrows is yet to end.
So many tales of so many days,
Restlessness, tie me with threads of pain.
Today, they all in my mind, fill in.
When the stars immolate the holy fire one by one,
To the sky, they'll fly and attain salvation.
Diffusing the portrait of the setting sun will this celebration end?
My worship of sorrows is yet to end…
Hehehehe...*Creepy laughter* Did you like it? The twist in the end? How was it? Good or bad?
However it was, I'm so glad and proud of myself that I, Droplets of blue rain aka your own Mistyflower, have successfully and finally completed my first century in this site! Hurrah! Yay! *Jumps in joy*
So, as I told, the first reviewer of this story will be dedicated with a fic of his/her favorite beyblade pairing written by me, so do review it at first. Pardon all the grammatical and spelling errors. Take care and stay safe :D
-Misty ^_^ ^_^