Yeah, it's a disclaimer: I so don't own Sailor Moon. . . those rights, my
friends, go to Naoko Takeuchi/Kodansha and Toei Animation. However, should
they ever grow tired of that ownership. . . I am SO there!
AN: Jus' wanted to say thank you to those who dropped such awesome reviews on me for chapter 1. You made me so happy! Ok, so here's Chapter 2, and a note here: It's a TAD odd, but I wanted to try it out to see how you like it. Hope you enjoy. . .
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*TRANSLATIONS ARE IN PARENTHESIS BELOW THE PARAGRAPHS IN WHICH THEY APPEAR*.
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Seraphs of Shadow
Chapter 2: So Delicate the Thread that Binds
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where the hell is she?" Lita griped impatiently, pacing back and forth across the apartment that was presently minus its third occupant. Amy sat staring at her computer screen, running figures as usual and having an odd hunch as to where their friend might be.
"Sit down, Lita. You're making me nervous," she ordered, and the brunette plopped down upon the couch as she wished, staring blankly out the window as she tapped her fingers against the arm of the couch anxiously.
"It's him, isn't it, Ames?" she asked, stretching her long legs out in front of her with a sigh.
"Isn't that obvious? I don't know what's happening between them, but it's most definitely something. But you know our girl. . . she can't be cornered or she'll fly. All we can do is be here when she needs us, just as she's always been," the wise one noted, scribbling furiously at her notes as she adjusted another formula to her liking.
Lita rolled her eyes, not at all fond of the idea of waiting. Serena was quite the clever girl, never having any trouble taking care of herself in the least. That much was crystal clear. But lately, she'd been so spaced out and intrigued by the immortal known as Darien that she had been doing anything but thinking clearly. And that, Lita knew, was an open invite for trouble to show.
"I just have a bad feeling about this. It isn't like her," Lita griped, causing Amy to chuckle at her overprotective reaction.
"Stop worrying so much. She's a big half ling. She'll be fine. . . and just think. . . you can pester her for all the gory details when she gets back," she pointed out, causing laughter to erupt from them both.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the door opened, the occupants of the apartment did naught but stare as Darien entered, with none other than the notorious day walker under his arm, so dazed that her eyes refused to even remain open.
Raye was the first to find her voice, the shock turning quickly to rage as she shot up from her comfortable perch upon Jedite's lap, prepared to crucify her brother for his foul judgment.
"Are you out of your fucking mind? What are you thinking bringing her here?" she shouted, though Darien seemed unfazed by her angry barrage.
"She's been hurt and I've taken it upon myself to aid her," he replied simply, half leading, half carrying the diminutive blond towards his bedroom door. Raye, ever obstinate, soon stood in his way, flanked by Jedite and Zoisite as her violet eyes burned with outrage.
"No, Darien. Now that she's come here, she may not leave. You know that," she stated factually, causing the ebony haired man to frown as he adjusted his grip upon his precious cargo.
"Raye, listen well, for I shall only say this once. No one is to lay an ill hand upon her, as she will uphold the same to all of you. She is no threat to you, though you remain too blinded by your own misgivings to see that," he informed them all heatedly, nodding for his path to be cleared.
He soon found that she had no intentions of relenting, and it only served to anger him further. The half ling in his arms was still bleeding, still in need of his attentions, and they were doing nothing to aid in his cause.
"How can you say that, Darien? She lives to kill our kind!" Raye shouted, prompting Jadeite to drape a comforting arm about her. Gods knew they were all in for it now. Once angered, his lover tended to blaze like a wild fire through a forest.
"She is as we are, though you cannot seem to understand that, Raye. Now please. . . move. She requires care," he said, his voice lacking any emotion, though his eyes burned with a steady flame. When it came to such matters, brother and sister were quite fairly matched, though the look in Darien's eyes told the others that perhaps Raye would regret this encounter very soon.
"After all we've been through. . . all we've overcome, you bring her here. Her! The day walker! What enchantment has she cast upon you, to cause you to abandon you wits? Have you no care for you family, Darien? We. . . WE are your family! Not her! She is nothing! Nothing!" she raged, starting towards the girl with intent to destroy what she perceived as a threat to those she held dear.
Before she could take a step, she was met by the fierce gaze of her brother, his eyes alone stopping her in mid step. Raye saw him pull the girl closer, shielding her from any violence she had intended to inflict upon her.
"And I find it hard to swallow, dear sister," he began, his words dripping malice even as he attempted to keep his composure, "that after I have kept the world at bay, provided everything we have ever had need of. . . that you would dare to stand before me and utter such idiocy. Have you forgotten who I am? What I am?" he demanded, feeling the small body in his embrace shift as the fury built steadily within him.
"You are a fool, Darien, if you think that she will pass over the chance to kill you. Perhaps she is like you. . . but she is nothing like the rest of us! We know our place, accept our fates. And she hates us for that! She hates us, brother! Will you not see that until your blood is spilled by her hands?" she questioned angrily, only then noticing how badly injured the girl in his arms truly appeared.
Blood trailed steadily down her face, crimson standing out boldly against her porcelain skin. Her golden hair was stained cherry in patches, her body now unable to stand on its own. Raye saw her hands, moving slowly up her brothers chest, gripping desperately at the fabric of his shirt as moments ticked by.
Something struck her then, like lightning traveling through her limbs, the sight before her enough to force her rage to die. This girl. . . was indeed in desperate need. Though her hatred ran hotly through her veins, the look in her brother's eyes, darkened to cobalt in anger, told a tale that had yet to be spoken.
Never had he allowed harm to befall them, in all the years they had walked the Earth. They had always trusted his judgment, relying on him to show them the way past all the perils that life tended to lay before them. And now, as he stood before her, she understood why he was behaving so recklessly. That fire. . . it would only glow so brightly for one in any eternity. And she. . . gods, the girl by his side was just that.
Though her mind still protested, her heart ultimately forced her to step aside, violet eyes shining with crimson tears that would never fall. Even she would never dare to interfere with this, for she understood well the feeling of insanity that swept across the soul when confronted with such things as intrigue, possession, lust. . .love.
Raye had been fortunate enough to unite with one of her own race, an immortal that had been able to soothe her battered soul and wash away the guilt upon her heart. She knew how it felt to be made witless by barrage after barrage of emotional onslaught. . . and that knowledge granted her the ability to see what was just before her. Though it was unheard of, perhaps even perilous, she could do nothing but allow her brother to pass, hands clenched at her sides the entire while.
He lifted the nearly unconscious blond fully in his arms, cradling her like a child, her fingers still clinging weakly to the front of his shirt.
"Have it your own way. When she's tearing your throat out, don't expect us to stop her," she muttered coldly, watching as the two disappeared into her brother's room.
"Raye. . . love, do not. . ." Jadeite tried, only to be silenced as she held up a hand.
"I'll hear none of it. If he so wishes this, it shall be, though I will not be forced to approve. I believe that now is the time for rest at any rate. I'll not be caused to lose sleep over the day walker," she proclaimed, emotion still thick in her voice.
Zoisite, who had silently witnessed the entire fiasco, understood that her rage had stemmed from nothing more than her love for her brother, who had indeed been their pillar of strength throughout many trying times. It was to be expected that she would react so.
But, as he took in the sight of his blood brother, the possession he felt for the girl held close to his heart more than obvious, he knew that nothing born of any world would dare to change his mind about her.
He wasn't a man to act without reason, and he had made it apparent without uttering a syllable that her life was now in his hands. Zoisite, being the most sensible of them all, smiled to himself, an all knowing smile. Perhaps this held more gracious possibilities than even he could imagine.
~~~~~~~~~~
Darien sat her down gently upon the dark sheets of his bed, hands guiding her shoulders down until she was stretched out across the mattress, her eyes still closed and each breath too shallow for his liking.
In truth, she looked like hell, blood flowing from the many cuts and lacerations upon her beautiful face. He pitied her then, for the vicious assumptions everyone made about her. . . for the beautiful soul no one dared to see.
"Such a waste," he muttered, leaving her for a moment to retrieve a few items from the adjoining bathroom. He soon returned with a wet wash cloth in hand, only to find her crystal eyes gazing up at him, full of hurt and confusion.
She looked so helpless lying there, forcing him to fight his body's overwhelming urge to forget his promise and descend upon her like a night predator. So beautiful. . .yet so deadly. Like some poisonous flower awaiting a being foolish enough to attempt to pluck it from it's home.
"So perfect," he breathed, unaware of whether or not she'd heard him speak. She blinked a few times, trying to decipher her whereabouts as his hand stretched towards her.
"Lie still," he instructed gently, and straight away her body shot up from her reclining position upon his bed. In an instant she was crouched upon her feet, though still a bit unsteadily, her hands finding her guns by sheer force of habit.
Darien smiled slightly, his hands upon hers before she was even able to draw the silver demons from their holsters. She was nowhere near her natural capacity, and he was made well aware by the look in her eyes that he would have to convince her to allow him to assist her.
"Tu. . . che cosa vuoi adesso?" she demanded, her eyes wild with a fear he'd not seen in them until that very moment. He could feel her small hands shaking beneath his own, and it disturbed him to think that he would ever cause fear to grace her heart.
(You. . . what do you want now?)
He was touched to hear her speak to him in their native tongue, one he'd gone far too long without hearing. The words still rolled as sweetly off her lips, delicately spoken and yet still laced with the heat than only she could wield.
"I dare not speak of my desires. . . but for the time, all I wish is to help you, fair one. You are in need of my assistance, though you'd rather lie there and bleed to death than admit it," he answered, leaning in closer as his hands closed about hers, drawing them slowly away from her weapons of destruction.
Her body shied away from his touch, though internally protesting the entire action, her eyes locked onto his as she attempted to read what lie within them.
Whether subconscious or not, the longing for his touch upon her skin remained, though she dared not admit it aloud. Darien's eyes seemed to soften as he looked down upon her, attempting to reassure her of his benevolent intentions.
"Non temere, serafino. Non ti succedera nulla. . . lo guiro," he promised softly, his fingers stretching towards her. Habit forced her to draw back, but only a bit, allowing him to inch ever closer as she watched him. Her eyes grew wider as his fingers touched her cheek, caressing it softly, as if he feared harming her should he be any more forceful.
(Have no fear, seraph. You will come to no harm. . . I swear it.)
Her mouth hung open in shock as his hands drew her gun belt from about her waist, his fingers unbuckling each holster from her thighs with a collectiveness that was unparalleled.
"What are you doing?" the blond demanded, stretching for her guns only to have him dangle them just out of her reach.
"You have no need for these at the moment," he told her, managing to sling them under his bed as she gawked at him the entire while. Only then did she realize the ache that plagued her body, her strength having faded considerably due to the loss of blood she'd experienced. Not only that, it seemed, but her heart as well had begun to bleed.
"Be still, sweet half ling. You have many wounds to be tended," he told her. Yet, as he expected, as she had always done, she refused to allow herself any relief.
"Tu traditore," she said darkly, her teeth clenched as both physical and emotional pain struck her all at once, showing her no mercy. She was forced to look away as she saw the hurt appear in his own eyes, which still shown like navy storm clouds in the evening sky.
(You traitor)
"No, fair one. Never I. By now you should realize the reasons for my actions. Had I not taken them, you would have known the consequence," he told her, his hands taking gentle hold of her shoulders as he prepared himself for the hurt to come.
"Is that what happened?" she asked, fighting the damnable tears that were presently welling up in her eyes, anxious to flow but being held back.
"Is that why you abandoned me? To save me?" she nearly snarled, the pain stabbing through her body becoming almost too much to bear.
Memory invaded him, as he sat staring into the eyes that had haunted him for more lifetimes than he could dare to recall. Pain still lingered in their crystal depths. . . pain he had inadvertently caused while trying to do just the opposite.
To this day he was unsure of how or why he had allowed it to carry on for so long. Perhaps at one time it had been his pride that had kept him from seeking her out. Perhaps his own fear.
But now, the reality was so biting that he could not turn away. Not again. . . never again. So complex was the day walker and he wished to dedicate every waking moment to rediscovering each little quirk she possessed.
Though predestined to face one another on opposite sides of the field of battle, it seemed that fate had indeed been deceived. For no matter the obstacles that stood in their paths, twin stars could not be parted, by time. . . by space. . . by their own uncertainties. It was now time. . . far past it in fact, for all truths to come to light, no matter how dreadful they indeed were.
"E stato amore a prima vista, mi angelo," he whispered, pulling her small form against his chest, arms folding about her with a strength that would never fade. He felt the shock flow through her, dissipating quickly as she tried to push him away.
(It was love at first sight, my angel)
But he felt her sorrow, the pain within all too familiar, and he only held her closer, bowing his head over hers as his lips brushed against her golden hair. She trembled like a leaf in the bitter breeze of autumn, and regret for so many years of apathy gnawed away at all that was left of his soul.
"Forgive me, fair one. The gods alone know of the nights I have faced without you. So many years. . . lifetimes without feeling the beating of your heart next to mine. I have no need to lie to you, for I have nothing at all to gain from it, should it mean that I would but lose you again. That I shall not do. Vivo per voi," he told her, breathing in the delicious scent that was hers alone.
(I live for you)
"Non mi tocchi!" she cried, her finger nails digging hard into his back as her own pack of demons broke free, intent on destroying her. She knew that her memories would eventually catch up with her, no matter how far she fled, no matter how slowly time crept by.
(Don't touch me!)
So long she had been to cowardly to face this, and yet she now found herself with no other choice. For in her heart, a truth dwelt that she had not the strength to admit. Without him, she had not been whole. Never had she known loneliness until fate dealt the critical blow, leaving her bitterly contesting all points of sanity.
And she could not turn away, just the way she'd been unable to in so many moments before. He was with her now, his voice like velvet smoothing across her heart, attempting to ease the suffering that ran so deeply within.
She managed to pull back from him slightly, crystal blue eyes filled with crimson tears, a few falling down her already blood stained cheeks as she gazed up at the man who had owned her from the moment they had both been born unto the Earth, so many ages ago.
Looking through the windows of his soul, she saw her own pain reflected ten fold, her heart consumed with the fire that she had long ago thought extinguished. How could this be? She could not allow herself to become lost once again, knowing the severity of the outcome. It was always the same: unfathomable bliss, followed by such devastating heart break that she thought she would never again find any shard of sanity.
No matter what she attempted, it always ended in grief. He was always taken from her, leaving her alone to face the wrath of the world that seemed to have a grudge that would not die. But gods above, how enchanting it was, to have him so near once again. . . to feel the warmth that only he possessed, surrounding her in the only comfort she had ever known to exist. Yet doubt remained, forcing her to question the lunacy that had engulfed her.
"Perche lo avete lasciato. . . Endymion?" she asked, her eyes closing as his hand ran tenderly along her cheek, fingers brushing away the tears of red marring her perfect beauty. He thought he had known the full sting of pain, until witnessing her tears. The sight alone was enough to cause him to curse himself, for the many mistakes he had made in the past.
(Why did you leave me. . . Endymion?)
How could he have hurt her so? Such a perfect creature. . . so true and devoted. . . and he had done naught but drive her away, until he had gone mad because of it.
"Per conservarli dalla morte, mio Serenity. I will never allow it to take you. Siete mine, angelo. Then. . . now. . . forever more," he said clearly, wishing that he could shoulder the full burden of her torment, take away the hurt so wrongly granted her for so very long.
(To save you from death, my Serenity) (You are mine, angel)
Necessity soon stepped in, though there was yet much to be discussed after it had been dealt with.
"Hear me, mio tesoro," he asked, his eyes holding hers as she fought for her composure.
(my treasure)
"You are yet in need. Those wounds shall not clean themselves, nor the sting vanish on it's own. You must be still and allow me to see to them," he informed her gently, his hands now stained red as well from stroking along her cheeks.
It was that crimson demon that had done this. . . kept them apart for far too long. If not for the hunger that burned without mercy, never would he have turned from her, left her without explanation as to why.
But now, as he stood gazing down upon her, the only being ever able to move him to feel, realizing that the hunger she initiated within threw shadow over the need for the nectar of life. . . of death.
Before everything was done, no part of them would be absent of the crimson liquid life that was the bane of them both. But it was no matter to him. Only one thing drove him at the time. . . to care for her, as she had for him so many times before.
He owed her that at the very least, after so many misgivings and unresolved quandaries. Now was the time to set them right, no matter what path his actions or words led him along.
Her eyes took him in, tracing over the lines of his face, the way that accursed hair of the deepest ebony fell into his vision, always prompting her to clear it from his sight with a tender hand. Only this man. . . no other had ever completed her so.
Nor would they ever, she'd realized bitterly, for he indeed was her second half, her completion. Alike in life and haunted by death, she knew that she could not turn away, not as his eyes stared her through, searching for any answer at all as silence descended upon them.
So it was that the golden seraph allowed him to lift her in his arms, her body lying almost lifelessly in his grip as he made his way to the bathroom, not bothering with the lights. His vision, after all, was better suited to the realm of darkness.
With a patience he'd never known himself to possess, the immortal sat her down, his hands moving gently over her, until she stood naked before him, the sight of her was enough to steal his breath despite the gore that covered her form. So long it had been, since he'd been blessed to witness such a sight, his eyes starved and hungrily drinking her in.
He then went about the task of removing his own clothing, her eyes not leaving his the entire while until he too stood presented in his natural glory. So long. Gods, so very long that he wondered if it was all some elaborate, malicious dream intent on taking his mind.
Soon, steam rolled in clouds from the shower behind them, and the immortal drew her in slowly after him, his patient hands guiding her until they both stood, being pelted by the steaming water that fell steadily from above.
His gentleness was unparalleled as he washed the blood from her face, whispering soothing words as she winced from the nagging sting. Still, she tried to hide her pain, biting her lip hard as the ache in her heart did naught to aid in her struggle. He could not help but to admire her courage, his hands taking care not to bring her anymore discomfort than necessary. She was surely in great pain, though he knew it would only upset her further if she allowed it to show.
Their eyes locked once more, flames dancing between them as he read the thoughts swimming through her mind. Serena felt her insides churning, as if her soul were being torn from her forcibly from her body. Never had anyone else ever been able to reduce her to this, and so simply at that. After a moment of being consumed by intense flame, she was able to find her voice.
"Ti penso sempre. Each night that passes is more bitter than the last. . . so empty. So quiet. My heart has not been my own since my eyes fell upon you," she said softly, her voice a bit broken as she spoke.
(I always think of you)
Her eyes were doing very wicked things to him and he was forced to look away for a moment, before his rapidly mounting lust got the better of him. He had made a vow to her after all, and he had every intention to keep it. The immortal would stick to his gentlemanly mannerisms until she gave him permission to do otherwise. The lady of his heart deserved nothing less than just that.
"The pain will vanish soon, fair one," he told her, tilting her chin up gently to meet his gaze, his eyes drawing her into what seemed to be an endless abyss. She would be so content to become lost in those eyes, should her blasted pride ever allow it. But it was an eternal struggle, heart against mind, with no clear winner ever named.
"Perhaps from my body. . . but what of my heart, dark angel? What of my heart?" she wondered, both wishing to flee from the presence of her companion and to allow her harsh thoughts to be eased by his embrace.
His lips ran over each finger as he kissed them one by one, not sparing even her finger tips as her eyes stared him through all the while. It disappointed her in a way, to be unable to find any malice within them.
She cursed his sincerity, as well as her own strong will, which seemed determined to keep her from bearing the contents of her heart. And yet, it was no matter, for she had long ago realized that the being before her was very adept at deciphering her emotions, without a single word passing between them.
"Bevanda da me," he requested, knowing that she would protest but unable to allow her strength to remain so drained from the attack that had been launched upon her.
(Drink from me)
The obstinate streak in her demanded that she push him away, keep him at bay and deny him the pleasure of granting her what he knew she needed most. However, it was a losing battle, attempting to keep herself from being caught up in the depths of his raging eyes. And as desperately as she struggled to mask the emotions flowing through her, he knew her heart. Gods be damned. . . he knew her.
The only sound Serena could hear was her own blood rushing through her veins, her heart beating loudly in her ears. His life force was already melding itself unto hers, and she could feel his power surging through her, like streaks of lightning coursing throughout her limbs. His amazingly dexterous fingers were slowly trailing along her naked skin, just along the column of her neck as she felt her last defenses failing her, the moments ticking slowly by.
There was no use. The man held her in his palm, as he always had, and even if she wished it, there wasn't a damn thing she could do to alter the fact. They were bound by too many unseen threads to be severed, destined to be bitter enemies. . . heart joined lovers through the brutal course of the ages.
No more coherent thoughts came to her, because soon he had offered his wrist, an act of love and selflessness that touched even her jaded soul. After her vicious words, her bitterness and animosity, he still offered all of himself in order to preserve her.
As expected, the obstinate blond pulled back, though his free arm had soon snagged her about the waist, holding her still as his eyes spoke his thoughts. He proffered his wrist once again, determined to see the shine return to the beautiful eyes that were quite capable of warming his heart.
"Lo amate?" he asked, fingers trailing lightly along the small of her back as he awaited a response to his rather bold question.
(Do you love me?)
"What are you trying to do to me? Have we not been through this enough? Do you enjoy my pain? Do enjoy the sound of my heart breaking because of you?" she demanded, unsure whether she would rather put a bullet through his skull or hold him close to what yet remained of her heart.
"How long will you uphold this façade, Serenity? How long? You would deny your own desires, shun your own happiness. . .just to prove a damned point. Let it die. For once in this eternity, I implore you. . . let this madness die. I do not beg, and yet I shall. Anything I must, I shall do," he vowed, his fangs extending against his lips just before he tore into his own flesh, blood rushing quickly from the broken skin and falling to the shower floor, staining the water scarlet as it disappeared down the drain.
"No one would understand! They never have, nor will they ever! And you. . . do you truly expect me to forget? To. . ."
"I expect nothing from you, Serenity. Nothing save for you to admit for once that things of the past cannot be changed. I have accepted myself for what I am. . . for what it is that I have become. But you cannot, you will not, and I know not the reason. I am here! Just before you now, and I shall never again be fool enough to part from you. Let it be enough! Be satisfied!" he nearly shouted, his own emotions exploding forth.
"I want to hate you, Endymion. I want to be the reason for your eternal unrest. I want to hear your screams in the night, when no comfort or peace will find you. . . but I cannot. And you know why. You fucking know," she said angrily, her small hands gripping his forearms tightly as the emotion only grew, begging to be unleashed unto the world.
"Why then? Tell me. . . I want to hear it from your own lips. Tell me why," he asked, his own blood still flowing unchecked, again staining her skin and his.
He saw her jaw clench, her eyes closing as the dam exploded, leaving her with no more rage to unleash. So it was, his eyes boring into her from above, that her voice granted him what he'd longed for lifetimes to hear once again.
"Ti amo," she whispered, hands sliding along his skin, coming to rest upon his cheeks. He turned, lips brushing against her palm as her soft words hit the resting place of his heart.
(I love you)
"Cara mia Endymion. . . ti voglio bene," she said, finally giving in to need and desire, one hand drawing his wrist to her lips. Her tongue lapped slowly at his self inflicted wound, as if in an attempt to mend the damage done on her account.
(My darling Endymion. . . I love you)
His taste was the same as she remembered, the rarest mix of coppery heat, the most delicious, bittersweet flavor in existence. Her body pressed closer, naked skin meshed against naked skin, a lustful haze descending upon her mind.
She shut everything out: the pain, the loss, the emptiness she' grown to know. The lies she'd told others and herself for so long, in a vain attempt to chase away the demons that refused to cease haunting her. All that registered then was the feeling of his body against hers, the beautiful taste of his own liquid life force as it slid hotly down her throat, healing her from within.
So many nights, cold death ever vigilant as she walked the realm of Earth alone, longing for the very being that had taken leave from her sight, carrying with him her heart and half of her soul. Years had run together since, days becoming months becoming centuries. And yet the feeling had yet to fade. The familiarity of his presence remained, one that she had long since realized that she would never be content to live without.
For theirs was a love so deep that it could only be driven by hatred, by an unintentional betrayal that would linger always in shadow. The madness was all consuming, raking across souls and leaving victims in limbo, wondering what atrocities they had committed to deserve such a penance.
Even so, it all melted away like snow under the rays of the garish sun, as her lips broke from tasting his gift of life, before pressing one last kiss to the opened vein, leaving the skin again smoothed over as if no wound had ever been present.
Her eyes lifted, focusing on his face and noting the small smile that graced his lips. The immortal's hand lifted, a delicate finger tracing along the curve of her jaw as he leaned forward, his tongue tasting the corner of her mouth as he removed the last trace of gore from her face.
"Perdonilo, mio angelo. I realize that words will never undo what has been done. But I cannot look into your eyes and speak falsely. We have lived through many a day shrouded in the haze of death. . . I wish to hold you again, Serenity. I wish to be comforted by the beating of your heart. Will you allow it? The future now rests with you," he told her, brushing back a few soaked golden tendrils away from her face.
(Forgive me, my angel)
Hands roamed desperately over randomly charted paths, longing to feel naked flesh beneath. She felt the heat, her skin positively on fire, longing for the achingly gentle caress of the one being alive that could truly satiate her.
Her senses were overwhelming, leaving her facing two totally opposite paths. There, standing wrapped in the arms of the object of her affections, her true strength throughout the ages, fear and doubt could find no place. She knew then that his words held no poisons, that perhaps this time they would indeed find a way.
So many tears, bitter goodbyes in the still of night, with only shadows as her comfort and no one to understand the ache that plagued her. Through all the years she had witnessed, no one had ever been told of the trials her soul had faced. The whisper upon her heart that visited her in dreams and waking nightmares alike.
"I will make no promises, for fear that I may not uphold them. But this night, Endymion. . . this night I will not spend alone. It may take longer than you like. . ."
"No. However long. . . it makes no difference, as long as I have you near, though I deserve it not," he noted softly, hand still stroking along her cheek with the utmost reverence.
"Importa non. Niente importa. Soltanto noi, qualunque possiamo essere. Endymion. . . posso rimanere stasera con voi?" she asked, the soft glow of her eyes drawing him in, erasing all baneful memories that lingered so painfully.
(It matters not. Nothing matters. Only us, whatever we may be. Endymion. . . may I stay with you tonight?)
His lips graced her forehead, like a whisper of the warm breath of a summer's breeze, and he felt her small body shiver in his grasp despite the apparent heat surrounding them.
"Fino a che il mio eternity non termini, il mio amore. La mia base e stata cosi fredda senza voi," he confessed, defying all the urges welling up within in order to draw her away from him a bit.
(Until my eternity comes to an end, my love. My bed has been so cold without you.)
~~~~~~~~~~
The room was still, nearly submerged in pitch blackness despite the sun having risen outside. And yet the two occupants were totally unaware of anything save the other, as they sat nearly motionless in the overstuffed chair in the corner.
Perched comfortably upon his lap was the angel, one of her companion's borrowed shirts now gracing her form, sleeves rolled halfway up her forearms and hem hanging to mid thigh, the garment nearly swallowing her in it's embrace.
Her eyes were closed, head resting upon the bare skin of his chest, his hand running absently through her still damp hair as he enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding her warm body close, the beautiful scent of her clouding any rational thoughts he may have been forming.
His gaze lingered, the immortal taking in the sight of her as she sat motionless against him, save for the occasional squeeze her hand gave his own. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to grant her peace, knowing full well that he would take no such care with any other being. No other he had ever known even caused a memory to form in his mind, for his every thought centered about her in some way.
Each passing day only drove him further towards madness, the ache in his heart at last becoming too much for him to bear. And then she had shown herself, an angel shining brightly against the backdrop of night, where he knew she was never meant to belong.
Perhaps she would always fight it, her place in this life, never allowing herself to taste the relief of peace. It would be so like her to do such a thing, for the sake of that blasted pride of hers. He had never known another so prideful, so stuck in their ways as his treasure, who shifted a bit as she reclined against him.
"Do you think me wicked? For turning away?" she asked suddenly, sadness still evident in her voice.
His hand cupped her chin, until she was again drowning in the depths of his eyes, infinite questions still lingering in her own.
"I hold no malice, il mio amore. Though we may be united by pain that we cannot erase, a new future awaits us yet. If you wish to embrace it," he pointed out, his fingers delicately tracing the shape of her lips as he watched the emotions play across her fair face.
(my love)
"That I cannot say. But I do know. . . I've missed this so. I've missed you," she told him, leaning in closer and allowing her lips the privilege of trailing along his neck, causing his bestial nature to call to him, from the chamber in which he kept it painfully locked away. So torturous was this maiden . . .and so worth the game in which he'd been a player for longer than even he could say.
She knew well what effects she had upon him, and thoroughly enjoyed the amusement of seeing him affected so by her actions. In due time, he thought, she would grow tired of her games. And he would be the one to hear her beg for what he knew she desired above all other things.
His wicked musings were interrupted by her voice, saccharine as cane, yet delivering a purely deadly statement.
"One thing, dark angel. If you deceive me. . . my response will not be merciful," she said simply, and he kissed the top of her head in response, despite the harsh simplicity of the words she'd spoken. His lady was complex, fickle to no end and yet absolutely addictive in every way. And he expected nothing less from her.
"Fair enough, seraph. Fair enough," he agreed, lips trailing softly along her cheek as her arms slid about his torso, her warmth engulfing him like a wild fire.
He silently reveled in the feeling of her warm body, as she pressed herself close him, leaving him wishing to the gods above that he could be granted the taste of her once again, if only for a moment. So long it had been since he had been granted such bliss, the feeling of her body writhing against his, being so lost within her that he renounced any grip he'd every had on reality.
The raven haired immortal could not keep himself from admiring her delicious form as she lay dozing against him, head bowed against his chest, breaths beating softly against his skin. The seraph possessed some very dangerous, very intoxicating curves, causing him to struggle torturously to keep his hands from exploring.
Soon. He forced himself to remain content by the mere act of holding her close, where he knew that the world could not lay eyes of hatred upon her. Where she would be cherished as she so deserved.
He contentedly nuzzled her hair, breathing in the sweet, rosy scent of her. Absently he wondered how many others had experienced the same pleasure in their ludicrous sabbatical from one another.
It mattered not, he mused, for he knew one thing to be true: no other man had ever possessed her heart, and that alone quelled the vicious possessiveness that roared to life, as he thought of her sharing herself with any other than himself.
No, it mattered not, in this world of uncertainty, for the past was finally facing a long awaited death. He would be sure that it would be swift, for it had been far too long that they had been engaged in this battle. This senseless conflict that had lost it's meaning after so long.
Now that he had found her, heard her precious lips speak the words he'd so longed to hear, he would make her see. He would damn the gods for the thousandth time, curse all others in existence and seal his own fate in order to keep her, this time for good. For eternity without her was a fate much worth than death, no matter the distraction he'd attempted to chase her from his thoughts.
She was too much a part of him. Nothing would change it. . . not even the seraph herself, who had denied everything swimming through the depths of her soul in a vain attempt to ease the suffering born from their past misery.
But no matter. Time was something that he did have, no matter how maddening things would become. And they would. They always did.
Gazing down at his precious consort, he felt the curious pang in his heart, the same that had been absent all the years they had been apart. It was comforting to know that she yet affected him so. . . as no other ever would.
He knew that the others would be at rest, his sister most likely dreaming of berating him. That woman was at times too damned impossible to handle, and he was quite aware of how bothersome it would be to convince her and the others to leave his lady be.
They had no idea of the reasons behind his madness. He had never mentioned such things to his blood relations, for even they would not understand. She was still an enemy in their eyes, after all.
The fact remained, however, that should they attempt to damage her, his vengeance would be ruthless. Gods help them, he thought, should they ignore him, for though they were his family, he would not allow anyone to bring her any harm. He had done enough of that himself to last several lifetimes.
His head bowed, cheek resting against the top of her head as sleep tugged at him, beckoning him towards it's peaceful realm. Hand running absently along her bared thigh, Endymion allowed his eyes to close, the incomparable scent of his companion enveloping him in a comforting cloud of familiarity.
Ordinarily, sleep was a bitter enemy, dreams relentless and cold darkness ruthless as it consumed him. But this. . . this was truly bliss, so that he was intent on not depreciating it with thoughts of regret. Though tomorrow was another dawn, he would face it, no matter the cost. For pain was inconsequential after living through so much.
"Come sei bella, mio angelo. Mio tesoro. Mio anima. Non posso vivere senza voi dal mio lato. Li amero per sempre. Per favore perdonilo," he whispered against her hair, just as the shadows consumed him. Though for once in longer than anyone could know, they held no power over him.
(How beautiful you are, my angel. My treasure. My soul. I cannot live without you by my side. I'll love you forever. Please forgive me.)
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Ok, that's it for now. I know this was kind of a COMPLETE mind trip, but I hoped you like it anyway! And remember. . . Chapter 1 went through a re- write so this would all make (some kind of) sense. Chapter 3 will lift the haze, I promise! I just got a new idea, and decided to fix it now before the story went too far to change it. Sorry for being fickle, but I like things better this way. . . oh, and let me know if the *Italian speak* made it better or just got on your nerves. . . I liked it. . .
And yeah, the translations may not be perfect. . .I got them from a translation sight, so if you're fluent in Italian and find them to be totally ridiculous, do forgive me, because I make no claim at being so myself. It's just a beautiful language. . . very *sensual*, so that's why I chose to use it. By the way. . . did it work or no? ^_^
Chapter 3 Under Edit. . . thanx to everyone for their suggestions!
*Cosmic Moon Baby*
AN: Jus' wanted to say thank you to those who dropped such awesome reviews on me for chapter 1. You made me so happy! Ok, so here's Chapter 2, and a note here: It's a TAD odd, but I wanted to try it out to see how you like it. Hope you enjoy. . .
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*TRANSLATIONS ARE IN PARENTHESIS BELOW THE PARAGRAPHS IN WHICH THEY APPEAR*.
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Seraphs of Shadow
Chapter 2: So Delicate the Thread that Binds
~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Where the hell is she?" Lita griped impatiently, pacing back and forth across the apartment that was presently minus its third occupant. Amy sat staring at her computer screen, running figures as usual and having an odd hunch as to where their friend might be.
"Sit down, Lita. You're making me nervous," she ordered, and the brunette plopped down upon the couch as she wished, staring blankly out the window as she tapped her fingers against the arm of the couch anxiously.
"It's him, isn't it, Ames?" she asked, stretching her long legs out in front of her with a sigh.
"Isn't that obvious? I don't know what's happening between them, but it's most definitely something. But you know our girl. . . she can't be cornered or she'll fly. All we can do is be here when she needs us, just as she's always been," the wise one noted, scribbling furiously at her notes as she adjusted another formula to her liking.
Lita rolled her eyes, not at all fond of the idea of waiting. Serena was quite the clever girl, never having any trouble taking care of herself in the least. That much was crystal clear. But lately, she'd been so spaced out and intrigued by the immortal known as Darien that she had been doing anything but thinking clearly. And that, Lita knew, was an open invite for trouble to show.
"I just have a bad feeling about this. It isn't like her," Lita griped, causing Amy to chuckle at her overprotective reaction.
"Stop worrying so much. She's a big half ling. She'll be fine. . . and just think. . . you can pester her for all the gory details when she gets back," she pointed out, causing laughter to erupt from them both.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the door opened, the occupants of the apartment did naught but stare as Darien entered, with none other than the notorious day walker under his arm, so dazed that her eyes refused to even remain open.
Raye was the first to find her voice, the shock turning quickly to rage as she shot up from her comfortable perch upon Jedite's lap, prepared to crucify her brother for his foul judgment.
"Are you out of your fucking mind? What are you thinking bringing her here?" she shouted, though Darien seemed unfazed by her angry barrage.
"She's been hurt and I've taken it upon myself to aid her," he replied simply, half leading, half carrying the diminutive blond towards his bedroom door. Raye, ever obstinate, soon stood in his way, flanked by Jedite and Zoisite as her violet eyes burned with outrage.
"No, Darien. Now that she's come here, she may not leave. You know that," she stated factually, causing the ebony haired man to frown as he adjusted his grip upon his precious cargo.
"Raye, listen well, for I shall only say this once. No one is to lay an ill hand upon her, as she will uphold the same to all of you. She is no threat to you, though you remain too blinded by your own misgivings to see that," he informed them all heatedly, nodding for his path to be cleared.
He soon found that she had no intentions of relenting, and it only served to anger him further. The half ling in his arms was still bleeding, still in need of his attentions, and they were doing nothing to aid in his cause.
"How can you say that, Darien? She lives to kill our kind!" Raye shouted, prompting Jadeite to drape a comforting arm about her. Gods knew they were all in for it now. Once angered, his lover tended to blaze like a wild fire through a forest.
"She is as we are, though you cannot seem to understand that, Raye. Now please. . . move. She requires care," he said, his voice lacking any emotion, though his eyes burned with a steady flame. When it came to such matters, brother and sister were quite fairly matched, though the look in Darien's eyes told the others that perhaps Raye would regret this encounter very soon.
"After all we've been through. . . all we've overcome, you bring her here. Her! The day walker! What enchantment has she cast upon you, to cause you to abandon you wits? Have you no care for you family, Darien? We. . . WE are your family! Not her! She is nothing! Nothing!" she raged, starting towards the girl with intent to destroy what she perceived as a threat to those she held dear.
Before she could take a step, she was met by the fierce gaze of her brother, his eyes alone stopping her in mid step. Raye saw him pull the girl closer, shielding her from any violence she had intended to inflict upon her.
"And I find it hard to swallow, dear sister," he began, his words dripping malice even as he attempted to keep his composure, "that after I have kept the world at bay, provided everything we have ever had need of. . . that you would dare to stand before me and utter such idiocy. Have you forgotten who I am? What I am?" he demanded, feeling the small body in his embrace shift as the fury built steadily within him.
"You are a fool, Darien, if you think that she will pass over the chance to kill you. Perhaps she is like you. . . but she is nothing like the rest of us! We know our place, accept our fates. And she hates us for that! She hates us, brother! Will you not see that until your blood is spilled by her hands?" she questioned angrily, only then noticing how badly injured the girl in his arms truly appeared.
Blood trailed steadily down her face, crimson standing out boldly against her porcelain skin. Her golden hair was stained cherry in patches, her body now unable to stand on its own. Raye saw her hands, moving slowly up her brothers chest, gripping desperately at the fabric of his shirt as moments ticked by.
Something struck her then, like lightning traveling through her limbs, the sight before her enough to force her rage to die. This girl. . . was indeed in desperate need. Though her hatred ran hotly through her veins, the look in her brother's eyes, darkened to cobalt in anger, told a tale that had yet to be spoken.
Never had he allowed harm to befall them, in all the years they had walked the Earth. They had always trusted his judgment, relying on him to show them the way past all the perils that life tended to lay before them. And now, as he stood before her, she understood why he was behaving so recklessly. That fire. . . it would only glow so brightly for one in any eternity. And she. . . gods, the girl by his side was just that.
Though her mind still protested, her heart ultimately forced her to step aside, violet eyes shining with crimson tears that would never fall. Even she would never dare to interfere with this, for she understood well the feeling of insanity that swept across the soul when confronted with such things as intrigue, possession, lust. . .love.
Raye had been fortunate enough to unite with one of her own race, an immortal that had been able to soothe her battered soul and wash away the guilt upon her heart. She knew how it felt to be made witless by barrage after barrage of emotional onslaught. . . and that knowledge granted her the ability to see what was just before her. Though it was unheard of, perhaps even perilous, she could do nothing but allow her brother to pass, hands clenched at her sides the entire while.
He lifted the nearly unconscious blond fully in his arms, cradling her like a child, her fingers still clinging weakly to the front of his shirt.
"Have it your own way. When she's tearing your throat out, don't expect us to stop her," she muttered coldly, watching as the two disappeared into her brother's room.
"Raye. . . love, do not. . ." Jadeite tried, only to be silenced as she held up a hand.
"I'll hear none of it. If he so wishes this, it shall be, though I will not be forced to approve. I believe that now is the time for rest at any rate. I'll not be caused to lose sleep over the day walker," she proclaimed, emotion still thick in her voice.
Zoisite, who had silently witnessed the entire fiasco, understood that her rage had stemmed from nothing more than her love for her brother, who had indeed been their pillar of strength throughout many trying times. It was to be expected that she would react so.
But, as he took in the sight of his blood brother, the possession he felt for the girl held close to his heart more than obvious, he knew that nothing born of any world would dare to change his mind about her.
He wasn't a man to act without reason, and he had made it apparent without uttering a syllable that her life was now in his hands. Zoisite, being the most sensible of them all, smiled to himself, an all knowing smile. Perhaps this held more gracious possibilities than even he could imagine.
~~~~~~~~~~
Darien sat her down gently upon the dark sheets of his bed, hands guiding her shoulders down until she was stretched out across the mattress, her eyes still closed and each breath too shallow for his liking.
In truth, she looked like hell, blood flowing from the many cuts and lacerations upon her beautiful face. He pitied her then, for the vicious assumptions everyone made about her. . . for the beautiful soul no one dared to see.
"Such a waste," he muttered, leaving her for a moment to retrieve a few items from the adjoining bathroom. He soon returned with a wet wash cloth in hand, only to find her crystal eyes gazing up at him, full of hurt and confusion.
She looked so helpless lying there, forcing him to fight his body's overwhelming urge to forget his promise and descend upon her like a night predator. So beautiful. . .yet so deadly. Like some poisonous flower awaiting a being foolish enough to attempt to pluck it from it's home.
"So perfect," he breathed, unaware of whether or not she'd heard him speak. She blinked a few times, trying to decipher her whereabouts as his hand stretched towards her.
"Lie still," he instructed gently, and straight away her body shot up from her reclining position upon his bed. In an instant she was crouched upon her feet, though still a bit unsteadily, her hands finding her guns by sheer force of habit.
Darien smiled slightly, his hands upon hers before she was even able to draw the silver demons from their holsters. She was nowhere near her natural capacity, and he was made well aware by the look in her eyes that he would have to convince her to allow him to assist her.
"Tu. . . che cosa vuoi adesso?" she demanded, her eyes wild with a fear he'd not seen in them until that very moment. He could feel her small hands shaking beneath his own, and it disturbed him to think that he would ever cause fear to grace her heart.
(You. . . what do you want now?)
He was touched to hear her speak to him in their native tongue, one he'd gone far too long without hearing. The words still rolled as sweetly off her lips, delicately spoken and yet still laced with the heat than only she could wield.
"I dare not speak of my desires. . . but for the time, all I wish is to help you, fair one. You are in need of my assistance, though you'd rather lie there and bleed to death than admit it," he answered, leaning in closer as his hands closed about hers, drawing them slowly away from her weapons of destruction.
Her body shied away from his touch, though internally protesting the entire action, her eyes locked onto his as she attempted to read what lie within them.
Whether subconscious or not, the longing for his touch upon her skin remained, though she dared not admit it aloud. Darien's eyes seemed to soften as he looked down upon her, attempting to reassure her of his benevolent intentions.
"Non temere, serafino. Non ti succedera nulla. . . lo guiro," he promised softly, his fingers stretching towards her. Habit forced her to draw back, but only a bit, allowing him to inch ever closer as she watched him. Her eyes grew wider as his fingers touched her cheek, caressing it softly, as if he feared harming her should he be any more forceful.
(Have no fear, seraph. You will come to no harm. . . I swear it.)
Her mouth hung open in shock as his hands drew her gun belt from about her waist, his fingers unbuckling each holster from her thighs with a collectiveness that was unparalleled.
"What are you doing?" the blond demanded, stretching for her guns only to have him dangle them just out of her reach.
"You have no need for these at the moment," he told her, managing to sling them under his bed as she gawked at him the entire while. Only then did she realize the ache that plagued her body, her strength having faded considerably due to the loss of blood she'd experienced. Not only that, it seemed, but her heart as well had begun to bleed.
"Be still, sweet half ling. You have many wounds to be tended," he told her. Yet, as he expected, as she had always done, she refused to allow herself any relief.
"Tu traditore," she said darkly, her teeth clenched as both physical and emotional pain struck her all at once, showing her no mercy. She was forced to look away as she saw the hurt appear in his own eyes, which still shown like navy storm clouds in the evening sky.
(You traitor)
"No, fair one. Never I. By now you should realize the reasons for my actions. Had I not taken them, you would have known the consequence," he told her, his hands taking gentle hold of her shoulders as he prepared himself for the hurt to come.
"Is that what happened?" she asked, fighting the damnable tears that were presently welling up in her eyes, anxious to flow but being held back.
"Is that why you abandoned me? To save me?" she nearly snarled, the pain stabbing through her body becoming almost too much to bear.
Memory invaded him, as he sat staring into the eyes that had haunted him for more lifetimes than he could dare to recall. Pain still lingered in their crystal depths. . . pain he had inadvertently caused while trying to do just the opposite.
To this day he was unsure of how or why he had allowed it to carry on for so long. Perhaps at one time it had been his pride that had kept him from seeking her out. Perhaps his own fear.
But now, the reality was so biting that he could not turn away. Not again. . . never again. So complex was the day walker and he wished to dedicate every waking moment to rediscovering each little quirk she possessed.
Though predestined to face one another on opposite sides of the field of battle, it seemed that fate had indeed been deceived. For no matter the obstacles that stood in their paths, twin stars could not be parted, by time. . . by space. . . by their own uncertainties. It was now time. . . far past it in fact, for all truths to come to light, no matter how dreadful they indeed were.
"E stato amore a prima vista, mi angelo," he whispered, pulling her small form against his chest, arms folding about her with a strength that would never fade. He felt the shock flow through her, dissipating quickly as she tried to push him away.
(It was love at first sight, my angel)
But he felt her sorrow, the pain within all too familiar, and he only held her closer, bowing his head over hers as his lips brushed against her golden hair. She trembled like a leaf in the bitter breeze of autumn, and regret for so many years of apathy gnawed away at all that was left of his soul.
"Forgive me, fair one. The gods alone know of the nights I have faced without you. So many years. . . lifetimes without feeling the beating of your heart next to mine. I have no need to lie to you, for I have nothing at all to gain from it, should it mean that I would but lose you again. That I shall not do. Vivo per voi," he told her, breathing in the delicious scent that was hers alone.
(I live for you)
"Non mi tocchi!" she cried, her finger nails digging hard into his back as her own pack of demons broke free, intent on destroying her. She knew that her memories would eventually catch up with her, no matter how far she fled, no matter how slowly time crept by.
(Don't touch me!)
So long she had been to cowardly to face this, and yet she now found herself with no other choice. For in her heart, a truth dwelt that she had not the strength to admit. Without him, she had not been whole. Never had she known loneliness until fate dealt the critical blow, leaving her bitterly contesting all points of sanity.
And she could not turn away, just the way she'd been unable to in so many moments before. He was with her now, his voice like velvet smoothing across her heart, attempting to ease the suffering that ran so deeply within.
She managed to pull back from him slightly, crystal blue eyes filled with crimson tears, a few falling down her already blood stained cheeks as she gazed up at the man who had owned her from the moment they had both been born unto the Earth, so many ages ago.
Looking through the windows of his soul, she saw her own pain reflected ten fold, her heart consumed with the fire that she had long ago thought extinguished. How could this be? She could not allow herself to become lost once again, knowing the severity of the outcome. It was always the same: unfathomable bliss, followed by such devastating heart break that she thought she would never again find any shard of sanity.
No matter what she attempted, it always ended in grief. He was always taken from her, leaving her alone to face the wrath of the world that seemed to have a grudge that would not die. But gods above, how enchanting it was, to have him so near once again. . . to feel the warmth that only he possessed, surrounding her in the only comfort she had ever known to exist. Yet doubt remained, forcing her to question the lunacy that had engulfed her.
"Perche lo avete lasciato. . . Endymion?" she asked, her eyes closing as his hand ran tenderly along her cheek, fingers brushing away the tears of red marring her perfect beauty. He thought he had known the full sting of pain, until witnessing her tears. The sight alone was enough to cause him to curse himself, for the many mistakes he had made in the past.
(Why did you leave me. . . Endymion?)
How could he have hurt her so? Such a perfect creature. . . so true and devoted. . . and he had done naught but drive her away, until he had gone mad because of it.
"Per conservarli dalla morte, mio Serenity. I will never allow it to take you. Siete mine, angelo. Then. . . now. . . forever more," he said clearly, wishing that he could shoulder the full burden of her torment, take away the hurt so wrongly granted her for so very long.
(To save you from death, my Serenity) (You are mine, angel)
Necessity soon stepped in, though there was yet much to be discussed after it had been dealt with.
"Hear me, mio tesoro," he asked, his eyes holding hers as she fought for her composure.
(my treasure)
"You are yet in need. Those wounds shall not clean themselves, nor the sting vanish on it's own. You must be still and allow me to see to them," he informed her gently, his hands now stained red as well from stroking along her cheeks.
It was that crimson demon that had done this. . . kept them apart for far too long. If not for the hunger that burned without mercy, never would he have turned from her, left her without explanation as to why.
But now, as he stood gazing down upon her, the only being ever able to move him to feel, realizing that the hunger she initiated within threw shadow over the need for the nectar of life. . . of death.
Before everything was done, no part of them would be absent of the crimson liquid life that was the bane of them both. But it was no matter to him. Only one thing drove him at the time. . . to care for her, as she had for him so many times before.
He owed her that at the very least, after so many misgivings and unresolved quandaries. Now was the time to set them right, no matter what path his actions or words led him along.
Her eyes took him in, tracing over the lines of his face, the way that accursed hair of the deepest ebony fell into his vision, always prompting her to clear it from his sight with a tender hand. Only this man. . . no other had ever completed her so.
Nor would they ever, she'd realized bitterly, for he indeed was her second half, her completion. Alike in life and haunted by death, she knew that she could not turn away, not as his eyes stared her through, searching for any answer at all as silence descended upon them.
So it was that the golden seraph allowed him to lift her in his arms, her body lying almost lifelessly in his grip as he made his way to the bathroom, not bothering with the lights. His vision, after all, was better suited to the realm of darkness.
With a patience he'd never known himself to possess, the immortal sat her down, his hands moving gently over her, until she stood naked before him, the sight of her was enough to steal his breath despite the gore that covered her form. So long it had been, since he'd been blessed to witness such a sight, his eyes starved and hungrily drinking her in.
He then went about the task of removing his own clothing, her eyes not leaving his the entire while until he too stood presented in his natural glory. So long. Gods, so very long that he wondered if it was all some elaborate, malicious dream intent on taking his mind.
Soon, steam rolled in clouds from the shower behind them, and the immortal drew her in slowly after him, his patient hands guiding her until they both stood, being pelted by the steaming water that fell steadily from above.
His gentleness was unparalleled as he washed the blood from her face, whispering soothing words as she winced from the nagging sting. Still, she tried to hide her pain, biting her lip hard as the ache in her heart did naught to aid in her struggle. He could not help but to admire her courage, his hands taking care not to bring her anymore discomfort than necessary. She was surely in great pain, though he knew it would only upset her further if she allowed it to show.
Their eyes locked once more, flames dancing between them as he read the thoughts swimming through her mind. Serena felt her insides churning, as if her soul were being torn from her forcibly from her body. Never had anyone else ever been able to reduce her to this, and so simply at that. After a moment of being consumed by intense flame, she was able to find her voice.
"Ti penso sempre. Each night that passes is more bitter than the last. . . so empty. So quiet. My heart has not been my own since my eyes fell upon you," she said softly, her voice a bit broken as she spoke.
(I always think of you)
Her eyes were doing very wicked things to him and he was forced to look away for a moment, before his rapidly mounting lust got the better of him. He had made a vow to her after all, and he had every intention to keep it. The immortal would stick to his gentlemanly mannerisms until she gave him permission to do otherwise. The lady of his heart deserved nothing less than just that.
"The pain will vanish soon, fair one," he told her, tilting her chin up gently to meet his gaze, his eyes drawing her into what seemed to be an endless abyss. She would be so content to become lost in those eyes, should her blasted pride ever allow it. But it was an eternal struggle, heart against mind, with no clear winner ever named.
"Perhaps from my body. . . but what of my heart, dark angel? What of my heart?" she wondered, both wishing to flee from the presence of her companion and to allow her harsh thoughts to be eased by his embrace.
His lips ran over each finger as he kissed them one by one, not sparing even her finger tips as her eyes stared him through all the while. It disappointed her in a way, to be unable to find any malice within them.
She cursed his sincerity, as well as her own strong will, which seemed determined to keep her from bearing the contents of her heart. And yet, it was no matter, for she had long ago realized that the being before her was very adept at deciphering her emotions, without a single word passing between them.
"Bevanda da me," he requested, knowing that she would protest but unable to allow her strength to remain so drained from the attack that had been launched upon her.
(Drink from me)
The obstinate streak in her demanded that she push him away, keep him at bay and deny him the pleasure of granting her what he knew she needed most. However, it was a losing battle, attempting to keep herself from being caught up in the depths of his raging eyes. And as desperately as she struggled to mask the emotions flowing through her, he knew her heart. Gods be damned. . . he knew her.
The only sound Serena could hear was her own blood rushing through her veins, her heart beating loudly in her ears. His life force was already melding itself unto hers, and she could feel his power surging through her, like streaks of lightning coursing throughout her limbs. His amazingly dexterous fingers were slowly trailing along her naked skin, just along the column of her neck as she felt her last defenses failing her, the moments ticking slowly by.
There was no use. The man held her in his palm, as he always had, and even if she wished it, there wasn't a damn thing she could do to alter the fact. They were bound by too many unseen threads to be severed, destined to be bitter enemies. . . heart joined lovers through the brutal course of the ages.
No more coherent thoughts came to her, because soon he had offered his wrist, an act of love and selflessness that touched even her jaded soul. After her vicious words, her bitterness and animosity, he still offered all of himself in order to preserve her.
As expected, the obstinate blond pulled back, though his free arm had soon snagged her about the waist, holding her still as his eyes spoke his thoughts. He proffered his wrist once again, determined to see the shine return to the beautiful eyes that were quite capable of warming his heart.
"Lo amate?" he asked, fingers trailing lightly along the small of her back as he awaited a response to his rather bold question.
(Do you love me?)
"What are you trying to do to me? Have we not been through this enough? Do you enjoy my pain? Do enjoy the sound of my heart breaking because of you?" she demanded, unsure whether she would rather put a bullet through his skull or hold him close to what yet remained of her heart.
"How long will you uphold this façade, Serenity? How long? You would deny your own desires, shun your own happiness. . .just to prove a damned point. Let it die. For once in this eternity, I implore you. . . let this madness die. I do not beg, and yet I shall. Anything I must, I shall do," he vowed, his fangs extending against his lips just before he tore into his own flesh, blood rushing quickly from the broken skin and falling to the shower floor, staining the water scarlet as it disappeared down the drain.
"No one would understand! They never have, nor will they ever! And you. . . do you truly expect me to forget? To. . ."
"I expect nothing from you, Serenity. Nothing save for you to admit for once that things of the past cannot be changed. I have accepted myself for what I am. . . for what it is that I have become. But you cannot, you will not, and I know not the reason. I am here! Just before you now, and I shall never again be fool enough to part from you. Let it be enough! Be satisfied!" he nearly shouted, his own emotions exploding forth.
"I want to hate you, Endymion. I want to be the reason for your eternal unrest. I want to hear your screams in the night, when no comfort or peace will find you. . . but I cannot. And you know why. You fucking know," she said angrily, her small hands gripping his forearms tightly as the emotion only grew, begging to be unleashed unto the world.
"Why then? Tell me. . . I want to hear it from your own lips. Tell me why," he asked, his own blood still flowing unchecked, again staining her skin and his.
He saw her jaw clench, her eyes closing as the dam exploded, leaving her with no more rage to unleash. So it was, his eyes boring into her from above, that her voice granted him what he'd longed for lifetimes to hear once again.
"Ti amo," she whispered, hands sliding along his skin, coming to rest upon his cheeks. He turned, lips brushing against her palm as her soft words hit the resting place of his heart.
(I love you)
"Cara mia Endymion. . . ti voglio bene," she said, finally giving in to need and desire, one hand drawing his wrist to her lips. Her tongue lapped slowly at his self inflicted wound, as if in an attempt to mend the damage done on her account.
(My darling Endymion. . . I love you)
His taste was the same as she remembered, the rarest mix of coppery heat, the most delicious, bittersweet flavor in existence. Her body pressed closer, naked skin meshed against naked skin, a lustful haze descending upon her mind.
She shut everything out: the pain, the loss, the emptiness she' grown to know. The lies she'd told others and herself for so long, in a vain attempt to chase away the demons that refused to cease haunting her. All that registered then was the feeling of his body against hers, the beautiful taste of his own liquid life force as it slid hotly down her throat, healing her from within.
So many nights, cold death ever vigilant as she walked the realm of Earth alone, longing for the very being that had taken leave from her sight, carrying with him her heart and half of her soul. Years had run together since, days becoming months becoming centuries. And yet the feeling had yet to fade. The familiarity of his presence remained, one that she had long since realized that she would never be content to live without.
For theirs was a love so deep that it could only be driven by hatred, by an unintentional betrayal that would linger always in shadow. The madness was all consuming, raking across souls and leaving victims in limbo, wondering what atrocities they had committed to deserve such a penance.
Even so, it all melted away like snow under the rays of the garish sun, as her lips broke from tasting his gift of life, before pressing one last kiss to the opened vein, leaving the skin again smoothed over as if no wound had ever been present.
Her eyes lifted, focusing on his face and noting the small smile that graced his lips. The immortal's hand lifted, a delicate finger tracing along the curve of her jaw as he leaned forward, his tongue tasting the corner of her mouth as he removed the last trace of gore from her face.
"Perdonilo, mio angelo. I realize that words will never undo what has been done. But I cannot look into your eyes and speak falsely. We have lived through many a day shrouded in the haze of death. . . I wish to hold you again, Serenity. I wish to be comforted by the beating of your heart. Will you allow it? The future now rests with you," he told her, brushing back a few soaked golden tendrils away from her face.
(Forgive me, my angel)
Hands roamed desperately over randomly charted paths, longing to feel naked flesh beneath. She felt the heat, her skin positively on fire, longing for the achingly gentle caress of the one being alive that could truly satiate her.
Her senses were overwhelming, leaving her facing two totally opposite paths. There, standing wrapped in the arms of the object of her affections, her true strength throughout the ages, fear and doubt could find no place. She knew then that his words held no poisons, that perhaps this time they would indeed find a way.
So many tears, bitter goodbyes in the still of night, with only shadows as her comfort and no one to understand the ache that plagued her. Through all the years she had witnessed, no one had ever been told of the trials her soul had faced. The whisper upon her heart that visited her in dreams and waking nightmares alike.
"I will make no promises, for fear that I may not uphold them. But this night, Endymion. . . this night I will not spend alone. It may take longer than you like. . ."
"No. However long. . . it makes no difference, as long as I have you near, though I deserve it not," he noted softly, hand still stroking along her cheek with the utmost reverence.
"Importa non. Niente importa. Soltanto noi, qualunque possiamo essere. Endymion. . . posso rimanere stasera con voi?" she asked, the soft glow of her eyes drawing him in, erasing all baneful memories that lingered so painfully.
(It matters not. Nothing matters. Only us, whatever we may be. Endymion. . . may I stay with you tonight?)
His lips graced her forehead, like a whisper of the warm breath of a summer's breeze, and he felt her small body shiver in his grasp despite the apparent heat surrounding them.
"Fino a che il mio eternity non termini, il mio amore. La mia base e stata cosi fredda senza voi," he confessed, defying all the urges welling up within in order to draw her away from him a bit.
(Until my eternity comes to an end, my love. My bed has been so cold without you.)
~~~~~~~~~~
The room was still, nearly submerged in pitch blackness despite the sun having risen outside. And yet the two occupants were totally unaware of anything save the other, as they sat nearly motionless in the overstuffed chair in the corner.
Perched comfortably upon his lap was the angel, one of her companion's borrowed shirts now gracing her form, sleeves rolled halfway up her forearms and hem hanging to mid thigh, the garment nearly swallowing her in it's embrace.
Her eyes were closed, head resting upon the bare skin of his chest, his hand running absently through her still damp hair as he enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding her warm body close, the beautiful scent of her clouding any rational thoughts he may have been forming.
His gaze lingered, the immortal taking in the sight of her as she sat motionless against him, save for the occasional squeeze her hand gave his own. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to grant her peace, knowing full well that he would take no such care with any other being. No other he had ever known even caused a memory to form in his mind, for his every thought centered about her in some way.
Each passing day only drove him further towards madness, the ache in his heart at last becoming too much for him to bear. And then she had shown herself, an angel shining brightly against the backdrop of night, where he knew she was never meant to belong.
Perhaps she would always fight it, her place in this life, never allowing herself to taste the relief of peace. It would be so like her to do such a thing, for the sake of that blasted pride of hers. He had never known another so prideful, so stuck in their ways as his treasure, who shifted a bit as she reclined against him.
"Do you think me wicked? For turning away?" she asked suddenly, sadness still evident in her voice.
His hand cupped her chin, until she was again drowning in the depths of his eyes, infinite questions still lingering in her own.
"I hold no malice, il mio amore. Though we may be united by pain that we cannot erase, a new future awaits us yet. If you wish to embrace it," he pointed out, his fingers delicately tracing the shape of her lips as he watched the emotions play across her fair face.
(my love)
"That I cannot say. But I do know. . . I've missed this so. I've missed you," she told him, leaning in closer and allowing her lips the privilege of trailing along his neck, causing his bestial nature to call to him, from the chamber in which he kept it painfully locked away. So torturous was this maiden . . .and so worth the game in which he'd been a player for longer than even he could say.
She knew well what effects she had upon him, and thoroughly enjoyed the amusement of seeing him affected so by her actions. In due time, he thought, she would grow tired of her games. And he would be the one to hear her beg for what he knew she desired above all other things.
His wicked musings were interrupted by her voice, saccharine as cane, yet delivering a purely deadly statement.
"One thing, dark angel. If you deceive me. . . my response will not be merciful," she said simply, and he kissed the top of her head in response, despite the harsh simplicity of the words she'd spoken. His lady was complex, fickle to no end and yet absolutely addictive in every way. And he expected nothing less from her.
"Fair enough, seraph. Fair enough," he agreed, lips trailing softly along her cheek as her arms slid about his torso, her warmth engulfing him like a wild fire.
He silently reveled in the feeling of her warm body, as she pressed herself close him, leaving him wishing to the gods above that he could be granted the taste of her once again, if only for a moment. So long it had been since he had been granted such bliss, the feeling of her body writhing against his, being so lost within her that he renounced any grip he'd every had on reality.
The raven haired immortal could not keep himself from admiring her delicious form as she lay dozing against him, head bowed against his chest, breaths beating softly against his skin. The seraph possessed some very dangerous, very intoxicating curves, causing him to struggle torturously to keep his hands from exploring.
Soon. He forced himself to remain content by the mere act of holding her close, where he knew that the world could not lay eyes of hatred upon her. Where she would be cherished as she so deserved.
He contentedly nuzzled her hair, breathing in the sweet, rosy scent of her. Absently he wondered how many others had experienced the same pleasure in their ludicrous sabbatical from one another.
It mattered not, he mused, for he knew one thing to be true: no other man had ever possessed her heart, and that alone quelled the vicious possessiveness that roared to life, as he thought of her sharing herself with any other than himself.
No, it mattered not, in this world of uncertainty, for the past was finally facing a long awaited death. He would be sure that it would be swift, for it had been far too long that they had been engaged in this battle. This senseless conflict that had lost it's meaning after so long.
Now that he had found her, heard her precious lips speak the words he'd so longed to hear, he would make her see. He would damn the gods for the thousandth time, curse all others in existence and seal his own fate in order to keep her, this time for good. For eternity without her was a fate much worth than death, no matter the distraction he'd attempted to chase her from his thoughts.
She was too much a part of him. Nothing would change it. . . not even the seraph herself, who had denied everything swimming through the depths of her soul in a vain attempt to ease the suffering born from their past misery.
But no matter. Time was something that he did have, no matter how maddening things would become. And they would. They always did.
Gazing down at his precious consort, he felt the curious pang in his heart, the same that had been absent all the years they had been apart. It was comforting to know that she yet affected him so. . . as no other ever would.
He knew that the others would be at rest, his sister most likely dreaming of berating him. That woman was at times too damned impossible to handle, and he was quite aware of how bothersome it would be to convince her and the others to leave his lady be.
They had no idea of the reasons behind his madness. He had never mentioned such things to his blood relations, for even they would not understand. She was still an enemy in their eyes, after all.
The fact remained, however, that should they attempt to damage her, his vengeance would be ruthless. Gods help them, he thought, should they ignore him, for though they were his family, he would not allow anyone to bring her any harm. He had done enough of that himself to last several lifetimes.
His head bowed, cheek resting against the top of her head as sleep tugged at him, beckoning him towards it's peaceful realm. Hand running absently along her bared thigh, Endymion allowed his eyes to close, the incomparable scent of his companion enveloping him in a comforting cloud of familiarity.
Ordinarily, sleep was a bitter enemy, dreams relentless and cold darkness ruthless as it consumed him. But this. . . this was truly bliss, so that he was intent on not depreciating it with thoughts of regret. Though tomorrow was another dawn, he would face it, no matter the cost. For pain was inconsequential after living through so much.
"Come sei bella, mio angelo. Mio tesoro. Mio anima. Non posso vivere senza voi dal mio lato. Li amero per sempre. Per favore perdonilo," he whispered against her hair, just as the shadows consumed him. Though for once in longer than anyone could know, they held no power over him.
(How beautiful you are, my angel. My treasure. My soul. I cannot live without you by my side. I'll love you forever. Please forgive me.)
**************************************************************************** ********************************************************************
Ok, that's it for now. I know this was kind of a COMPLETE mind trip, but I hoped you like it anyway! And remember. . . Chapter 1 went through a re- write so this would all make (some kind of) sense. Chapter 3 will lift the haze, I promise! I just got a new idea, and decided to fix it now before the story went too far to change it. Sorry for being fickle, but I like things better this way. . . oh, and let me know if the *Italian speak* made it better or just got on your nerves. . . I liked it. . .
And yeah, the translations may not be perfect. . .I got them from a translation sight, so if you're fluent in Italian and find them to be totally ridiculous, do forgive me, because I make no claim at being so myself. It's just a beautiful language. . . very *sensual*, so that's why I chose to use it. By the way. . . did it work or no? ^_^
Chapter 3 Under Edit. . . thanx to everyone for their suggestions!
*Cosmic Moon Baby*