Continuity: Volumes six and seven.
Other: First part of a hopeful many.
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Obsessions
Aren't you lovely, little birdie, dark hair like a boiled carrot tumbling down, down, and oh you were kind. I haven't felt guilty tricking someone in years, haven't cared about using someone, but weren't you gentle and kind and lovely, little birdie, and I wondered how your skin would feel (around your neck, fingers squeezing; touching your wrist to feel the pulse, deep and primitive, beating, beating; wrapping hands in that long carrot hair and pulling, hard, beautiful, angrily). See the soft light in your eyes, and thinking your skin must be as soft as you are, gentle and downy and easy to break; I was you once, and I remember breaking, bleeding, crying as my hair is pulled (beautiful pain, horrible pain, obsessive pain). But you are timid, hiding like a bird in winter, and I was never that...
Pulse in your throat, under my fingers, pounding, pounding, and warmth just under the surface as the redness flows below the skin (soft, weak, want to protect you, want to kill you). Saw him hurt you, the rat with dark dark hair (Aoki kill him hurt him keep him dead, bleeding, blood all over my hands and warm) and little birdie on the ground, in the dirt, carrot hair sprawling about and rain on birdie's cheeks; kill him for birdie who I once was, and no one is allowed to hurt birdie, my birdie, my thing to protect and hurt and trick and hate.
HE stopped me, the one I want to be (not you I used to be), and angry, angry, want to hurt HIM for stopping wrist and hand; my birdie to (fool and love and make bleed) hurt with love kept safe by HIM, and I hated you and HIM, for neither wanting me or needing me (and HE I've loved since I saw I could make others bleed, to give back all the evil love Aoki gave me, liked to see HIM hurt the rat).
Little birdie cried and fought, and hate you hate you hate you but want to love birdie, touch the hair and break soft skin, gentle eyes believing the best and not understanding that pain is love and love is pain, and want to make you bleed birdie, want to love you. And aren't you soft, birdie, now that I touch you, want to make you feel that I can be gentle, too, hands like snow around your beautiful hot pulsing soft throat for a moment before putting pressure on
(forgot I was a man, birdie, thought I was slow and weak like slender you, but never never forget I'm still a man, still strong, still quick, and I only hurt you because I love you, make you bleed because I want to keep HIM dark like I hope to be and because, because I want you to stay pure, birdie, love is pain is love is hate is blood)
and pushing you slightly against the rail. Rain on your face again, it's raining raining raining, and don't you love me, birdie, I love you birdie, deeper than I love HIM (hate HIM, love HIM, want to possess and become HIM). Only want to cut you, hurt you, take your blood for mine, birdie, don't you know that I won't hurt you the way Father Dearest did, don't want your body unless you give it, but isn't a pity, birdie, have to kill you to keep HIM dark.
Wanted you, birdie, bleeding and crying (because pain is delicious, agony and affection are the same, aren't they birdie, raining raining), and
(birdie bit back, birdie is fighting to live why fight because Father Dearest killed that part inside of you that makes it so you can't love HIM the way HE wants, hate you birdie hate hate hate you)
you made me bleed, birdie, and I don't understand why it only hurts but you'll never see (confusion and nothing makes sense inside, unconnected and snapping off again on again round and round), trick you so you only see cold calculation.
So sad birdie, sad and love you hate you...
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Notes: I hope to God this came out at least half as choppily creepy as it's meant to be. :] This is something I've wanted to write for nearly a year, as Beckna-chan well knows (and was promptly infuriated at me for).
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Souryo Fuyumi, much to my sadness; I merely own this fanfic.
Feedback: Appreciated. Any questions about the psychology/philosophy behind this part can be directed to WolfHowlN2@aol.com, or leave an e-mail address in the review. ;]
Other: First part of a hopeful many.
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Obsessions
Aren't you lovely, little birdie, dark hair like a boiled carrot tumbling down, down, and oh you were kind. I haven't felt guilty tricking someone in years, haven't cared about using someone, but weren't you gentle and kind and lovely, little birdie, and I wondered how your skin would feel (around your neck, fingers squeezing; touching your wrist to feel the pulse, deep and primitive, beating, beating; wrapping hands in that long carrot hair and pulling, hard, beautiful, angrily). See the soft light in your eyes, and thinking your skin must be as soft as you are, gentle and downy and easy to break; I was you once, and I remember breaking, bleeding, crying as my hair is pulled (beautiful pain, horrible pain, obsessive pain). But you are timid, hiding like a bird in winter, and I was never that...
Pulse in your throat, under my fingers, pounding, pounding, and warmth just under the surface as the redness flows below the skin (soft, weak, want to protect you, want to kill you). Saw him hurt you, the rat with dark dark hair (Aoki kill him hurt him keep him dead, bleeding, blood all over my hands and warm) and little birdie on the ground, in the dirt, carrot hair sprawling about and rain on birdie's cheeks; kill him for birdie who I once was, and no one is allowed to hurt birdie, my birdie, my thing to protect and hurt and trick and hate.
HE stopped me, the one I want to be (not you I used to be), and angry, angry, want to hurt HIM for stopping wrist and hand; my birdie to (fool and love and make bleed) hurt with love kept safe by HIM, and I hated you and HIM, for neither wanting me or needing me (and HE I've loved since I saw I could make others bleed, to give back all the evil love Aoki gave me, liked to see HIM hurt the rat).
Little birdie cried and fought, and hate you hate you hate you but want to love birdie, touch the hair and break soft skin, gentle eyes believing the best and not understanding that pain is love and love is pain, and want to make you bleed birdie, want to love you. And aren't you soft, birdie, now that I touch you, want to make you feel that I can be gentle, too, hands like snow around your beautiful hot pulsing soft throat for a moment before putting pressure on
(forgot I was a man, birdie, thought I was slow and weak like slender you, but never never forget I'm still a man, still strong, still quick, and I only hurt you because I love you, make you bleed because I want to keep HIM dark like I hope to be and because, because I want you to stay pure, birdie, love is pain is love is hate is blood)
and pushing you slightly against the rail. Rain on your face again, it's raining raining raining, and don't you love me, birdie, I love you birdie, deeper than I love HIM (hate HIM, love HIM, want to possess and become HIM). Only want to cut you, hurt you, take your blood for mine, birdie, don't you know that I won't hurt you the way Father Dearest did, don't want your body unless you give it, but isn't a pity, birdie, have to kill you to keep HIM dark.
Wanted you, birdie, bleeding and crying (because pain is delicious, agony and affection are the same, aren't they birdie, raining raining), and
(birdie bit back, birdie is fighting to live why fight because Father Dearest killed that part inside of you that makes it so you can't love HIM the way HE wants, hate you birdie hate hate hate you)
you made me bleed, birdie, and I don't understand why it only hurts but you'll never see (confusion and nothing makes sense inside, unconnected and snapping off again on again round and round), trick you so you only see cold calculation.
So sad birdie, sad and love you hate you...
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Notes: I hope to God this came out at least half as choppily creepy as it's meant to be. :] This is something I've wanted to write for nearly a year, as Beckna-chan well knows (and was promptly infuriated at me for).
Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Souryo Fuyumi, much to my sadness; I merely own this fanfic.
Feedback: Appreciated. Any questions about the psychology/philosophy behind this part can be directed to WolfHowlN2@aol.com, or leave an e-mail address in the review. ;]