Have started working on 2 new fics named "Atrocity" and "Fade" depending on
how they turn out I may post them on ff.net. But since they have a no NC-
17 rule (Atrocity), it may end up else where. Ro Chan did a really great
pic of Kenshin as a goth, she's very talented in my opinion. Here's the
addy for it if any one's interested.
http://www.mediaminer.org/fanart/view.php?id=126449
My next two updates will take place between the performance at the club,
and Chandra's phone call to Aoshi. Am delaying the K+K scene a bit because
I am debating whether to do lemon or just a tasteful description, I would
appreciate it if you would post any preference you have. And here's a
little A+M while you're waiting. Sorry it took so long, just moved to a
new apt. . .which I think in haunted or something.
~ ~ thoughts " " Speech
Touched
Misao struggled at opening the window, her high shoes setting her off balance on the fire escape. Hells were definitely not made for breaking into the home of her unsuspecting Aoshi. Five minutes later she had slipped into the loft and shut the window behind her. She had left the club shortly after seeing Kaoru vanish back-stage with Kenshin; although she could admit he was hot, the redhead was not her type. She preferred the tall, blue-eyed silence of her Aoshi. After leaving the club she planned to surprise Aoshi at his loft, knowing fully that if she were to show up when he was home, he'd never invite her in. But the doors were locked, taunting her. Pouting at the nerve of the locks, they dared to prevent her from fulfilling her plans, Misao wandered out of the building betting on her last chance's hope. And there it was, a rust answer that confirmed that this was meant to be. The unsteady ascent had left her cold and a little bruised, but all that was forgotten as she walked through the home of her Aoshi, never thinking that she was guilty of breaking and entering.
The loft was simple, everything with a place and an obvious function. A table, it's surface cluttered with neat stacks of paper, and some chairs greeted her. Then the small kitchen, followed by what looked like an improvised training room, and then the door to the bedroom. With little hesitation the green-eyed girl opened the door and walked in.
The bed rested against the far wall, its dark blue blankets looking unused. Beside the door sat a dresser and TV. Curiously Misao paced around the room finding a mat beside the bed, it's surface well worn from hours of meditation. With a small smile and little thought to the room's compulsive order, Misao grabbed the remote and flopped onto the bed to wait.
After the performance Aoshi had paced through the crowd looking for his companion of earlier. But after finding no sign of the giggling green-eyed girl, he left. ~don't tell me you were actually planning on seeing her again~ the logical side of his mind chided him ~you have risen above the desires of flesh~ and when that didn't work, his mind tried a more direct tactic. ~She's what, 18 at the most. And you're 26, isn't there a law about that.~ Surrendering to the chidings of logic, Aoshi turned to walk home. His mind was right, she was too young, just a child compared to him. By the time the door to his loft was opened, Aoshi had sealed himself from the thought of her.
A noise came from the bedroom caught his attention. Cursing himself for the under sight, it occurrence the prospect that he was slipping, leaving the TV on was slight under sight but careless none-the-less. Aoshi walked purposefully through the loft, his hand pushing the door to the bedroom open, and abruptly he stopped. There was a girl lying asleep on his bed, a young girl with dark hair a familiar face.
Misao herd the door to the loft open, for a moment she froze; the nervous anticipation running over her skin and making her feel slightly nauseous as her pulse sped up. Foot steps sounded heavily through the loft as she herd him approach the door, her mind racing she fell back on the bed and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep until she could think of something else. It had been a good plan, but now that it was working she didn't know what to do. She had half hoped he wouldn't come home, would leave her safely wondering about what could have been. But reality had other plans and despite all the courage she had saved up, the situation left her fighting not to shake.
Aoshi stood blinking, the situation not computing in his mind. ~How'd she get in here, why's she here, must she be lying there like that. . .~ The last though caused his eyes to wonder over her still form. She wore a short back satin dress; dark green ribbons tied little bows to hold the material across her sides, and twined into more intricate bows at her shoulders to pass for straps. Carefully he walked towards the bed, each step raising the tension that worked his muscles into stiff knots. Fingers brushed loose strands of dark hair back from her face, lingering over her cheeks. The touch of her skin lead his mind to darker thoughts made painful by how young she looked. His blue eyes, their icy depths caught in a chaos of thoughts, followed the curve of her cheek to her lips. Carefully he leaned down, ~just a simple kiss, that's all. . .it'll help to ease the tension, confront your feelings and over come them, be in control of yourself.~
Misao's eyes opened at the touch of his hand, mere slits of green hidden under dark lashes. She watched the thoughts fight for control behind his eyes, the turmoil out of place in pale eyes. Then he leaned towards her, his eyes closing, his lips stopping just above hers.
It was meant to be a quick kiss, a brush of lips, but suddenly the lips he had been so distracted by were responding to him. She wasn't supposed to kiss back, she was supposed to be asleep, but thin arms were sliding around his neck and pulling him down to the bed. He followed their lead helplessly, sinking into the kiss and loosing himself in a flood of fragmented thoughts. He felt his hand sliding down her side, but the action was not his own, he body was controlled by something else, and the poor ration part of his mind couldn't fight against it. Instinct lead actions, as fingers tugged at the green ribbon, slowing pulling the bows apart and leaving the ribbon hanging forgotten from the dress. He felt her fingers struggling with the buttons of his shirt, and smiled at the irritation that flashed behind her green eyes as they refused to give in to her. With a low laugh his fingers slid out from under her back to curl around hers, as he sat up, knees positioned on either side of her legs. Green eyes met his questioningly as he tensed slightly. A moment later the offending buttons clattered randomly around them. The shocked expression on her face was well worth the shirt, but his laughter died as shock turned into a darker look. Delicate hands pulled him down, and again he was lost to instinct and the fascination of touch.
Misao pulled him closer, trying to fight against the slow movements of his fingers as they pulled apart each ribbon. Her fingers slid over the smooth skin of his chest, running curiously over the ridges of scar tissue. But there would be time for that later, and the demanding tingle that had spread through her wasn't interested. Nails bit carelessly into the skin of his back, asking without know the question yet needing its answer. His breath hissed into her shoulder, teeth grazing the skin gently as the last ribbon fell free. With it the warm satin was pushed away and skin met skin. She felt his lips moving down her neck, over her throat and across her collarbone. His tongue teased her, running a wet line over one nipple before his lips closed over it. She arched against him, fingers tangling in his hair as low moans fell heavily from her throat. Blue eyes looked up at her their usual icy depths overridden by uncontrolled wanting, and something softer though just as wild. For a moment she puzzled before the brush of teeth over tender skin scattered every sense but him. Lips left her chest, the sudden lack of such intense sensation startling as open- mouthed kisses lead back to her lips. Hovering over their surface.
"Are you sure this is what you want..?" Aoshi breather the question against her lips, the soft warmth of her skin distracting him, and the last of his control was held to waiting for an answer.
"I. . ." She pushed up against him, her lips seeking his, but when he moved away she opened her eyes to meet his. For a moment the silence tested them, broken as her voice came in a horse whisper. ". . .Yes. . ." The word sounded strange, like surrendering but she couldn't fight this, didn't want to.
That single words was his undoing, breaking the last barrier of restraint left in his mind as their lips met again. The kiss was soft this time, the desperate wanting overshadowed by a subtler tenderness.
Touched
Misao struggled at opening the window, her high shoes setting her off balance on the fire escape. Hells were definitely not made for breaking into the home of her unsuspecting Aoshi. Five minutes later she had slipped into the loft and shut the window behind her. She had left the club shortly after seeing Kaoru vanish back-stage with Kenshin; although she could admit he was hot, the redhead was not her type. She preferred the tall, blue-eyed silence of her Aoshi. After leaving the club she planned to surprise Aoshi at his loft, knowing fully that if she were to show up when he was home, he'd never invite her in. But the doors were locked, taunting her. Pouting at the nerve of the locks, they dared to prevent her from fulfilling her plans, Misao wandered out of the building betting on her last chance's hope. And there it was, a rust answer that confirmed that this was meant to be. The unsteady ascent had left her cold and a little bruised, but all that was forgotten as she walked through the home of her Aoshi, never thinking that she was guilty of breaking and entering.
The loft was simple, everything with a place and an obvious function. A table, it's surface cluttered with neat stacks of paper, and some chairs greeted her. Then the small kitchen, followed by what looked like an improvised training room, and then the door to the bedroom. With little hesitation the green-eyed girl opened the door and walked in.
The bed rested against the far wall, its dark blue blankets looking unused. Beside the door sat a dresser and TV. Curiously Misao paced around the room finding a mat beside the bed, it's surface well worn from hours of meditation. With a small smile and little thought to the room's compulsive order, Misao grabbed the remote and flopped onto the bed to wait.
After the performance Aoshi had paced through the crowd looking for his companion of earlier. But after finding no sign of the giggling green-eyed girl, he left. ~don't tell me you were actually planning on seeing her again~ the logical side of his mind chided him ~you have risen above the desires of flesh~ and when that didn't work, his mind tried a more direct tactic. ~She's what, 18 at the most. And you're 26, isn't there a law about that.~ Surrendering to the chidings of logic, Aoshi turned to walk home. His mind was right, she was too young, just a child compared to him. By the time the door to his loft was opened, Aoshi had sealed himself from the thought of her.
A noise came from the bedroom caught his attention. Cursing himself for the under sight, it occurrence the prospect that he was slipping, leaving the TV on was slight under sight but careless none-the-less. Aoshi walked purposefully through the loft, his hand pushing the door to the bedroom open, and abruptly he stopped. There was a girl lying asleep on his bed, a young girl with dark hair a familiar face.
Misao herd the door to the loft open, for a moment she froze; the nervous anticipation running over her skin and making her feel slightly nauseous as her pulse sped up. Foot steps sounded heavily through the loft as she herd him approach the door, her mind racing she fell back on the bed and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep until she could think of something else. It had been a good plan, but now that it was working she didn't know what to do. She had half hoped he wouldn't come home, would leave her safely wondering about what could have been. But reality had other plans and despite all the courage she had saved up, the situation left her fighting not to shake.
Aoshi stood blinking, the situation not computing in his mind. ~How'd she get in here, why's she here, must she be lying there like that. . .~ The last though caused his eyes to wonder over her still form. She wore a short back satin dress; dark green ribbons tied little bows to hold the material across her sides, and twined into more intricate bows at her shoulders to pass for straps. Carefully he walked towards the bed, each step raising the tension that worked his muscles into stiff knots. Fingers brushed loose strands of dark hair back from her face, lingering over her cheeks. The touch of her skin lead his mind to darker thoughts made painful by how young she looked. His blue eyes, their icy depths caught in a chaos of thoughts, followed the curve of her cheek to her lips. Carefully he leaned down, ~just a simple kiss, that's all. . .it'll help to ease the tension, confront your feelings and over come them, be in control of yourself.~
Misao's eyes opened at the touch of his hand, mere slits of green hidden under dark lashes. She watched the thoughts fight for control behind his eyes, the turmoil out of place in pale eyes. Then he leaned towards her, his eyes closing, his lips stopping just above hers.
It was meant to be a quick kiss, a brush of lips, but suddenly the lips he had been so distracted by were responding to him. She wasn't supposed to kiss back, she was supposed to be asleep, but thin arms were sliding around his neck and pulling him down to the bed. He followed their lead helplessly, sinking into the kiss and loosing himself in a flood of fragmented thoughts. He felt his hand sliding down her side, but the action was not his own, he body was controlled by something else, and the poor ration part of his mind couldn't fight against it. Instinct lead actions, as fingers tugged at the green ribbon, slowing pulling the bows apart and leaving the ribbon hanging forgotten from the dress. He felt her fingers struggling with the buttons of his shirt, and smiled at the irritation that flashed behind her green eyes as they refused to give in to her. With a low laugh his fingers slid out from under her back to curl around hers, as he sat up, knees positioned on either side of her legs. Green eyes met his questioningly as he tensed slightly. A moment later the offending buttons clattered randomly around them. The shocked expression on her face was well worth the shirt, but his laughter died as shock turned into a darker look. Delicate hands pulled him down, and again he was lost to instinct and the fascination of touch.
Misao pulled him closer, trying to fight against the slow movements of his fingers as they pulled apart each ribbon. Her fingers slid over the smooth skin of his chest, running curiously over the ridges of scar tissue. But there would be time for that later, and the demanding tingle that had spread through her wasn't interested. Nails bit carelessly into the skin of his back, asking without know the question yet needing its answer. His breath hissed into her shoulder, teeth grazing the skin gently as the last ribbon fell free. With it the warm satin was pushed away and skin met skin. She felt his lips moving down her neck, over her throat and across her collarbone. His tongue teased her, running a wet line over one nipple before his lips closed over it. She arched against him, fingers tangling in his hair as low moans fell heavily from her throat. Blue eyes looked up at her their usual icy depths overridden by uncontrolled wanting, and something softer though just as wild. For a moment she puzzled before the brush of teeth over tender skin scattered every sense but him. Lips left her chest, the sudden lack of such intense sensation startling as open- mouthed kisses lead back to her lips. Hovering over their surface.
"Are you sure this is what you want..?" Aoshi breather the question against her lips, the soft warmth of her skin distracting him, and the last of his control was held to waiting for an answer.
"I. . ." She pushed up against him, her lips seeking his, but when he moved away she opened her eyes to meet his. For a moment the silence tested them, broken as her voice came in a horse whisper. ". . .Yes. . ." The word sounded strange, like surrendering but she couldn't fight this, didn't want to.
That single words was his undoing, breaking the last barrier of restraint left in his mind as their lips met again. The kiss was soft this time, the desperate wanting overshadowed by a subtler tenderness.